This book is insufferable. Or, more accurately, the author is insufferable. Marley seems like an average dog that his self-absorbed owner couldn’t be bothered to properly mind or train.

Not only is John Grogan utterly unaware of the feelings of his four-legged family member, he doesn’t seem to be too connected to his two-legged family members, either. His lack of understanding or sympathy when his wife was obviously suffering post partum depression was horrible – Marley seemed eminently more sensitive and aware.

Russell Banks won readers’ hearts in 1991 with “The Sweet Hereafter”. He tackled painful subject matter and populated his story with a cast of damaged, thorny characters. He wrapped it all with a troubling conclusion that somehow had a perverse sense of redemption.

A reader might be predisposed on the basis of that fine accomplishment to assume that only Russell Banks could take on the towering figure of real-life abolitionist John Brown and take him beyond history textbook admirable, and make the firebrand radical both understandable and even sympathetic. Unfortunately, “Cloudsplitter” is told from the reluctant and spiritually browbeaten perspective of Brown’s son Owen, and the result is ponderous and lugubrious. The good that John Brown so determinedly strives for is powerfully overshadowed by his sanctimony, radicalism and religious fanaticism. The reader is left feeling as battered as the narrator, if the reader can even struggle to the end of this overly long tome.

“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.