Review: Blood Fugue by Joseph D’Lacey

Alexander Mee was less than satisfied by Proxima’s latest offering, Blood Fugue. A sexed up vamp horror with all the subtlety of gravel. 

Eros and Thanatos, or Desire and Death. These are the drives that Freud believed acted within and amongst humans to motivate our heinous and holy intents as well as our internal conflicts. They are also key to understanding Horror as a genre, which plays on both at the same time. Dracula is a great example of this, the Count is a player but I’d want stake him for coming near my loved ones. Frankenstein’s monster is another, it seeks love but is doomed to destroy. Their journeys may be odysseys of furious savagery, but they are enthralling to read, and their downfalls bittersweet.

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Review: Veronica Britton: Chronic Detective – N.P. Boyce

It took me many years to learn patience. Despite my decidedly calm current demeanour, I definitely had a temper-dappled childhood. One such instance, or series of instances as I never learned, was my relationship with Where’s Wally. These densely packed and intricately drawn megapictures were a constant torment for my prepubescent self. What should have been a simple activity, that of locating the titular striped nomad, became an exercise in frustration. This was not because I couldn’t locate Wally, but because I would stumble upon so many other characters and situations that were infinitely more interesting. Why should I bother with a bobble-hatted tourist when there’s a wizard bouncing on a trampoline – oh wait what’s that? An alien with a – and that – and that – and that!?

My childhood self was dissatisfied with the task given to him when there countless other astonishing stories I would rather follow. I realise now that I was probably overstimulated and overtired. Regardless, it was an issue I felt strongly about. This is the very same hang-up I have with Veronica Britton: Chronic Detective. There is just so much going on!