The author Guðrún Eva Mínervudóttir narrates the theft of a state of the art sex-doll in The Creator, a story of alienation, loneliness and despair.

“As soon as the reader knows what to make of a book, it fails,” says the author Steinunn Sigurðardóttir in an interview with us. Her newest novel, The Good Lover, was published in German in early September.

“The story of Vigdís Finnbogadóttir is the story of Iceland in the 20th century,” says biographer Páll Valsson of his new book on the former president.

“I think that people in their twenties, guys as well as girls, can find parallels between themselves and the characters in the book,” says author Sólveig Jónsdóttir of her debut novel Quarter.

As a rule of thumb, mice aren't particularly welcome in concert halls. Not so with Maximus Musicus, arguably the most popular rodent in the history of Iceland. We had a word with Hallfríður Ólafsdóttir, creator of this murine musicophile.

“Even the brightest of days can turn out to be dark and gloomy once you look beneath the surface,” says crime author Ragnar Jónasson of his third novel, Dark Night.

Heaven and Hell, by Jón Kalman Stefánsson, has already been translated into numerous languages. Quercus publishers have recently acquired the English translation rights.

“For every woman who takes a seat in parliament, or as a managing director, or ‘shames’ men in other ways by gaining access to power, thousands of porn movies are produced which put women back in ‘their place,’ where they are powerless, submissive, and usually humiliated.”

“I believe that all lives can yield interesting stories. It isn't necessarily so important to remember school grades or calendar dates correctly, but much rather to  try, in some way, to mediate the truth of each life,” says author Oddný Eir Ævarsdóttir in an interview on her newest book, Plan of Ruins.

The story of the life of one of the most remarkable men in Icelandic history has been written for the first time as a comprehensive biographical work.  Ævisaga Snorra Sturlusonar/The Biography of Snorri Sturluson by Óskar Guðmundsson is an important contribution to medieval scholarship.

Bryndís Björgvinsdóttir nimbly navigates the precarious line between humour and gravity in The Fly that Ended the War, this year's winner of the Icelandic Children's Book Award.

“I am becoming more and more interested in what distinguishes the individual, the life that flutters within him, from the world at large; what influence the world in its totality has on our psyche, or whether we are just largely a bundle of nature and nurture, which takes its own course regardless of what happens outside this ‘outer canister', as Þórbergur Þórðarson put it,” says writer Gyrðir Elíasson.

“Turbulence is important, not tidiness,” says Auður Jónsdóttir of her novel Winter Sun. A German translation of the book was published by the major publishing house btb last spring, marking the first time Auður's work is published in Germany.

“Thanks, Nanna,” says Bryndís Loftsdóttir, picking out her favourite from the home's private book collection: a mammoth, bright-orange cookbook by food guru Nanna Rögnvaldardóttir.

Einar Kárason's historical novel Fury draws on a tumultuous period in Icelandic history. A German translation appeared in February.

What better cover for a murder than a royal visit? Helgi Ingólfsson's award-winning mystery is set against the backdrop of a spectacular point in Icelandic history: the height of the country's 19th century struggle for sovereignty.

"My grandfather earnestly believed that while he slept, he would be transported inside other people, and that his dreams were the experiences of the other person.” These nomadic dreamings inspired Þórdís Björnsdóttir to write her second novel.

“When I was a child, people spoke of the beauty and wisdom of old age. I  didn't really believe them,” says author Guðbergur Bergsson in an interview with Sagenhaftes Island. His new novella is dedicated to the “generation of eternal youth.”

“I lie in bed in a sanatorium, struggling to resist sleep, but then I recall that I'm allowed to fall asleep; I've got a sleep certificate, a stamp on my bum: Burnt Out." The opening paragraph to Heim til míns hjarta/Home to My Heart by Oddný Eir Ævarsdóttir.

How Iceland's flagship, the Goðafoss, was torpedoed by a German U-boat in WWII. The book provides a look into Icelandic way of life during WWII, it also contains secred documents and accounts from the U-boat crew.

A unique work in Icelandic writing – a stage of an author’s oeuvre which has consciously introduced ideas and approaches hitherto unknown in Icelandic fiction.

Twenty years ago Erró, one of Iceland’s leading artists, made a huge donation of his works to the Reykjavík Art Museum. The anniversary of the gift is marked by the publication of a magnificent book focussing on Erró’s portraits.