Yes No Maybe, directed and written by Mads Rosenkrantz Grage, has won the Fuengirola Web Fest Award, part of the Official Webseries Section at the 6th Fuengirola International Film Festival. Mads Rosenkrantz Grage himself also won an award for ‘Best Director of Webseries’ with Yes No Maybe.

It’s a late summer’s eve in 1990 and five childhood friends have set up camp by their secret bathing spot, a closed quarry on one of southern Sweden’s mountain ridges. The mood is effervescent, but under the surface tensions run deep. Though the evening is supposed to be a last farewell to their childhoods and each other, not everyone is ready to let go, or be left behind. When dawn breaks and the first fall rain has subsided, a body is floating in the dark waters of the quarry. The police label it a tragic accident, but not everyone is convinced.

For twenty-seven years, the accident remains an open wound in the community, a conflict waiting to catch fire. When the old chief of police is replaced by Anna Vesper, a newly arrived homicide detective from Stockholm, things start moving. Soon Anna is left with no choice but to ignore all warnings and reopen the case from that autumn in 1990. An autumn that few will admit to remembering, but nonetheless refuses to be forgotten.

Deeds of Fall is the second installment in Anders de la Motte’s series of stand-alone suspense novels set in southern Sweden.

An autumn night in 1891, Kristina Andersson drowns her two sleeping children in the Aura river. When their pale faces have faded from view she rows home. The next morning regret sets in, but it’s too late. Kristina is sent to the asylum on Själö, an island in the Åbo archipelago. It’s a place few ever leave.

Forty years later, it’s seventeen-year-old Elli’s turn. The daughter of a bourgeois family, Elli wants something more than what the rigid structure of her family home can offer. She gets a summer job at an office, falls head over heels in love and runs away only to be embroiled in a Bonnie and Clyde-style set-up by a spurned lover. When she’s caught she too is brought to Själö, where time seems to have come to a standstill. The nurse Sigrid becomes the link between Kristina and Elli, the old and the new. But time is threatening to catch up with Själö and its inhabitants. War is brewing in Europe and will soon touch their shores too.

Johanna Holmström’s evocative and striking tale Island of Souls has its basis in reality and the tragic human fates that permeated the walls of the real-life asylum on Själö. Island of Souls is a novel about motherhood, the evil, the good, and the utterly ordinary. About the price that three women must pay for their weakness, longing, love, sorrow and friendship. But most of all perhaps, it is a book about madness, and how its definition has shifted as it has been used on women throughout time.

The restaurant The Hills stands at the center of Matias Faldbakken’s new novel, a story of waiters and regulars, chandeliers and cloakroom attendants, mezzanines and storage cellars, bar managers and in-house pianists. It’s a continental interior that greets the visitor as they enter the premises, a downtrodden mosaic of concentric circles on the floor and walls covered in portraits, drawings, paintings and stamps. The one who guides the reader through this landscape is a waiter at the establishment, a veteran of thirteen years. With utter discretion and a complete knowledge of all that goes on in his domain, he is the eyes and ears of the novel.

The ideas and ambience of old Europe are carefully guarded at the run-down restaurant. A well-established order wherein everything has its place rules, and little to nothing of the outside world intrudes. Until the threat of unrest and change comes anyway, in the innocuous form of a young woman quietly taking a seat among the regulars.

The Hills is an unexpected, smart and entertaining novel about collapsing structures and a world caught somewhere between diligence and decay. Matias Faldbakken possesses a rare talent for observation and an uncompromising eye for detail and humor as he pushes the performances of the novel to the point of absurdity, and does so in a manner that evokes a sense of unease as well as gravity.