In Minihorror, ordinary nightmares come true – humorous, surreally imaginative and always aware of the fragility of our existence.

In Minihorror, Barbi Marković tells the story of Mini and Miki and their everyday adventures in the city. Mini and Miki aren’t from around here, but they do their best to fit in and do everything right. Despite – or rather because – of this, they are constantly pursued by dangers and monsters, by catastrophes and troubles. This is a book about the nightmares of the middle class, great and small, about the horror of the perfect family breakfast, about workplace bullying and holiday disasters, about the yawning, ever-present emptiness of everyday life. In Minihorror, Barbi Marković has created a perfidious, compassionate monument to the agents of fear in our society – to read it is to feel at once caught-out and understood.

Affectionate and accurate: Cornelia Hülmbauer‘s debut novel is a book to which we should listen closely and from which we cannot get enough.

Cornelia Hülmbauer describes childhood and teenage years in the country side using snapshots and images created from memory. A car workshop and a four-person family are providing the setting for this story of growing up; intimate experiences are mixed with poignant, witty scenes. Her text is so tightly intertwined and her descriptions so accurate that one is almost able to experience taste, smell, sensations and desires physically. In front of our eyes the “image of the author as a young girl” assumes shape. Seamlessly effortless, Cornelia Hülmbauer succeeds in revealing the past itself as well as the act of remembrance and the development of a literary sensitivity through short passages.

Radically feminist and humorous, Anna Katharina Laggner's notes of her twin pregnancy is a revelation.

A doctor gives the author some surprising news: she is creating life. She has one son already, and now she’s pregnant again. With twins. After much discussion, she decides against termination. She also discovers that being pregnant with twins seems to make her public property: doctors and relatives, complete strangers and friends, her yoga teacher and work colleagues – everybody wants to judge, offer advice, and touch her growing belly. Radically subjective and unshakeably good-humoured, Anna Katharina Laggner explores the mystery of being a trinity: she writes about her life with and among ‘Strangelings’, about erotic dry spells and unreasonable social demands, about her fears, and about the tremendous joy that remains a constant presence.