“One Child at a Time” (subtitled “The Global Fight to Rescue Children from Online Predators”) provides an absorbing behind-the-scenes view of how law enforcement officers and organizations in North America, the UK and around the world are growing increasingly sophisticated at fighting back against the network of predators, abuse and materials in circulation online. Thankfully, the book does not get into overly explicit detail, but is sufficiently clear about the types of abusive situations law enforcement is contending with, and touches with moving tact on the suffering and damage done to victims.

Author Julian Sher focuses on examples of the daring and suspenseful rescues as crimes are being committed, and to the seizures of millions of dollars in the offshore bank accounts of the porn merchants. In some respects, de-emphasizing the gory details and focusing on the action-oriented aspects of this particular form of crime fighting probably makes this more accessible to a broader readership, which is a good thing.

Former Toronto police officer Paul Gillespie was instrumental in pushing for the development of the Child Exploitation Tracking System, described in the book and now being extensively deployed to law enforcement organizations worldwide. Gillespie went on to found the Kids’ Internet Safety Alliance (KINSA, at www.kinsa.net), a well-regarded not-for-profit group that advocates with government and industry on online protection initiatives, and also provides programs targeted to families, teachers and others to build awareness of Internet safety best practices.

Ian McEwan never fails to write beautifully and hauntingly, whatever the subject matter. That gift is particularly, perhaps perversely, stunning when he writes about horrifying things. However, he writes here about a type of horror, as experienced by one of the main protagonists, that is bewildering and unbelievable in its intensity. In turn, the outcomes and consequences of that horrified reaction do not seem believable, either. For such a slim set piece, I found this a tedious read.

This amiable book is made gently subversive by the fact that lady detective Mma Precious Ramotswe takes on what is considered a rather non-traditional role for a woman in Botswana. The book is an easy and charming read, and refreshingly non-formulaic for the detective/mystery genre. Maybe part of its gentle subversiveness is that the mysteries are not really the point, or maybe the real mystery is the human behaviour and nature behind each crime that Mms Ramotswe investigates.

“A Minor Planet for You” is Greentree’s first foray into the short story form after two accomplished collections of poetry. As it is in her poetry, witty, feisty dialogue is one of Greentree’s strengths. She zeroes in on relationships gone askew, and somehow manages to balance tenderly both the humour and the pain or embarrassment of people’s failures to connect and communicate.

This wistful snippet from the title story is a favourite:

When I get home from work, there’s a note on the table. Brian’s out looking for an asteroid belt tonight, and won’t be back until late. I throw my coat over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and phone my sister, Tanya. When I start complaining about the whole minor planet bullshit plan, she interrupts me.

“Maggie, I think that sounds so romantic. Don’t you think it’s a wonderful gesture, having your husband want to discover a planet for you?”

“I think it would be more romantic for him to stay home with me once in a while,” I say. “Maybe even talk to me.”

I would take this book and concept with a grain or two of salt, because not everything it espouses is for everyone, and I found not all of it completely rang true with me. That said, the very first book in the series by Julia Cameron has something to offer just about anyone who is looking to cultivate their creativity, not just in writing per se, but using writing as largely the outlet and mode of expression. Even if you only take one practice or exercise away from it (the daily writing routine is a good one, and one I’ve personally kept up for close to 12 years now), it’s worth it.

This is the 63rd of a series of titles selected by writer Yann Martel to provide to Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper, to encourage an appreciation of the arts and literature in particular in the PM, and to also help him (Harper, that is) with his stillness and thoughtfulness. Martel has regularly sent books from a wide range of literary traditions to Harper. Martel has devoted a Web site to the reading list and his kind and considered covering letters with each volume. (All of his letters can be read at http://www.whatisstephenharperreading.ca/.) Martel’s thoughtful persistence in this quest, started in April 2007, is both heartwrenching and highly commendable. He has never received a direct acknowledgement from Harper, and only recently some fairly form-letter responses from Harper’s staff. He has, however, received a response (although not directly related to one of his book selections for Harper) from Industry Minister Tony Clement.

Will this quirky, challenging literary novel by the always intriguing and stylistically shape-shifting Barnes finally inspire Harper, to take up Martel’s recommendation, to read, to respond? We shall see.

Both lyrical and bleak, this story captures the protagonist’s hopeless choices in the harsh and divisive world of Northern Ireland. The narrative voice has the flat affect of a person who is both shell shocked and cannot believe he is really capable of or deserving of love or even respect. Yet even with that flatness, that voice is still very moving. When Cal does find love, it is complicated by layers of seemingly unsolvable circumstances that leave the reader wondering and hoping to the last sentence …

“Sometimes in her presence he felt like Quasimodo – as if the ugliness of what he had done showed in his face. The brand in the middle of his forehead would never disappear and seemed to throb when she was near. Alone, now, he relaxed into his ugliness. To hell, why not? If he could not take her like Sleeping Beauty then he could ravish the things which surrounded her. His impotence was something he could smell and touch.”

Stephen McCauley crafts a sweet and impossible pas de deux between two characters, George and Nina, with sufficient warts and foibles to be believable. He surrounds them with a wry and witty cast of supporting characters and melds it all with charming, infectious, Friends-like dialogue (predating Friends by about 10 years). It’s interesting that Jennifer Aniston went on to portray Nina in the movie version of the book.