National Network for Equitable Library Service

Shortly after completing his sixth novel, Ray Robertson suffered a depression of suicidal intensity. Central to his recovery was the decision to try and answer two of the biggest questions we can ask. What makes humans happy? And what makes a life worth living? His answers aren't what you might expect from a mental illness memoir, but they're exactly what you'd expect from Ray Robertson. With the vitality of Nick Hornby and a brashness all his own, Robertson runs his hands over life, death, intoxication and art. Unashamedly working-class and unabashedly literary, Why Not?

He had fifty-seven seconds of screen time in the most lavish POW film Hollywood ever produced. He was blond. A Gestapo agent. Sauntering down the aisles of a speeding train, he speaks in terse German to Richard Attenborough, Gordon Jackson, David McCallum. The film is The Great Escape (by John Sturges, starring Steve McQueen); the actor, though uncredited, is Michael Paryla. He was part Jewish. Shortly after filming he died.

John Metcalf's Shut Up He Explained defies expectations and strict definition. Part memoir, part travelogue, part criticism -- wholly Metcalf -- it is thoughtful, engaged, contentious and often very funny. It offers a full does of Metcalfian wisdom and wit, and provides ample evidence that neither age nor indifference nor attack have withered him: he remains as sharp, critical, constructive and insightful as ever. Indeed, this may just be his most important and engaged book. Certainly it will be among his most controversial.

In the world of The Reasonable Ogre, magic is nothing if not paradoxical. Ogres can indeed be reasonable, prisons may prove porous, gifts often come disguised as curses, and springs gone dry are only waiting to resurface. At once comic and moving, troubling and restorative, Mike Barnes's original stories are here to remind us that fairy tales aren't about the happily-ever-after: they're about the strange detours we take trying to get there. With seventy drawings from the striking brush of Segbingway.

In the twenty-first century, Canada has a reputation for being one of the most gay-friendly nations on earth, a pioneer in legalizing same-sex marriage, and home to enormously popular Pride parades. Yet Canada was not always so hospitable to its gay and lesbian citizens. Homosexuality was only decriminalized in Canada in 1969 and remained socially stigmatized for many years. 'Queers Were Here: Heroes & Icons of Queer Canada' will tell personal stories to illuminate the enormous social changes that have transformed sexuality in Canada.

Between his time with the Detroit Red Wings in the 1950s, the Toronto Maple Leafs in the 1960s, and his days as a scout with the New Jersey Devils, Marcel Pronovost has earned eight Stanley Cup rings and enjoyed one of the longest NHL careers of all time. Encounters with game greats and a 32-page photo spread punctuate this compelling life story.

Peter Bayle - heavy drinker, philosopher to-be, anemic lover - somehow finds himself in Kansas, writing a feature article on middle America's newfound love for hockey. There he meets, among others, a morphine-injecting Reverend, a reviled reporter, a teenage drug dealer, and an ex-crack-addicted figure-skating team mascot.

First published in 1972, Going Down Slow is an intense and very funny novel about one mans attempt to maintain his sanity, and his sense of humour, in the face of mounting odds. Metcalf's young hero, David Appleby, a young school teacher just over from Britain, is pitted against small-mindedness, prejudice, and temptations that are generations old. The writing is, as one would expect of anything by Metcalf, of the highest order. Going Down Slow is a sharp and biting satire, and an unforgettable novel.

Brian Busby's 'The Dusty Bookcase' explores the fascinating world of Canada's lesser-known literary history: works that suffered censorship, critical neglect, or brilliant yet fleeting notoriety. These rare and quirky totems of Canadiana, collected over the last three decades, form a travel diary of sorts through books instead of maps.

In the tradition of E.M. Forster, John Gardner, and James Wood, Douglas Glover has produced a book on writing at once erudite, anecdotal, instructive, and amusing. Attack of the Copula Spiders represents the accumulated wisdom of a remarkable literary career: novelist, short story writer, essayist, teacher and mentor, Glover has for decades been asking the vital questions. How does the way we read influence the way we write? What do craft books fail to teach aspiring writers about theme, about plot and subplot, about constructing point of view?