In 2013, journalist Ginger Gorman was trolled online. She received scores of hateful tweets, including a death threat. A picture of Ginger heavily pregnant alongside her husband and two-and-half year old daughter appeared on a fascist website. Understandably she was terrified, but once the attack subsided, she found herself curious. Who were these trolls? How and why did they coordinate such an attack? And how does someone fight back against a troll? Over the next five years Gorman spoke to psychologists, trolling victims, law enforcement, academics and, most importantly, the trolls themselves, embedding herself into their online communities and their psyches in ways she had never anticipated. What she discovered was both profoundly shocking and fascinating. Syndicates of highly organised predator trolls across the globe systematically set out to disrupt and disturb. Some want to highlight the media's alleged left-wing bias, some want to bring down capitalism, and some just want to have fun. Even if it means destroying someone's life ... An intense and compelling read, Troll Hunting is an important window into not just the mindset and motivation of trolls, but the history of this kind of aberrant behaviour. Ginger Gorman has gained unprecedented access to trolls, even formed strange and enduring relationships with them, and her comprehensive investigation into what makes them tick has given us a brilliant book that is impossible to put down.

Australian prime ministers since Harold Holt have all fostered close relationships with the United States, but John Howard has initiated economic and military policies that have bound the two countries even tighter. As a result, many Australians now believe that not only our sovereignty but also our very identity as a nation is under threat, and that we are fast becoming America's 51st state. If this view is correct, it should be reflected not only in our foreign policy but also in our domestic policies. Indeed, the weakening of social safety nets, the privatisation of areas long seen as government responsibilities, and the signing of the Free Trade Agreement all point to the triumph of US-style neo-liberalism. Yet, as Dennis Altman shows, the story is not so simple. Even as official rhetoric immerses us ever deeper into the US worldview, the resilience of the Australian social contract is imposing real limits on the application of neo-liberal principles. And, despite his enthusiastic membership of the coalition of the willing, Howard has assiduously cultivated economic and political ties within our region which, as the global balance of power shifts, will become increasingly relevant. In this elegant and sophisticated meditation on Australian identity, Altman suggests that the tendency to attribute malign American influence to everything we dislike about the contemporary world is the flipside of seeing the US as the only model worthy of emulation, and serves to conceal the deeper questions we face namely, how does Australia imagine its future?

Despite the opposition of Ancient Eric and Malcolm, Limpy goes on a quest to find a place where cane toads can be safe from humans and live in harmony.

Born in a displaced persons' camp two years after the end of the Holocaust, Michael Gawenda spent his childhood and teenage years in a left-wing non-Zionist Jewish youth group in Melbourne. This shaped the sort of Jew he became - a secular Jew who loved the Yiddish language and Yiddish culture. Gawenda went on to become a public figure during his 40 years as a journalist, including his role as editor-in-chief of The Age - the only Jewish editor-in-chief in the newspaper's history. Throughout this time, and since, he became dismayed and pained by the growing hostility of the left to Israel and to Jews like him who were not prepared to declare themselves as anti-Zionists. This has also forced him to examine his own Jewish identity and his relationships with his Jewish friends, and to forensically examine the basis of the critiques of Israel. At a time of rising anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism, My Life as a Jew is a controversial book. It is also a vital book. It should be read by activists for Israel and Zionism, as well as for the Palestinians. It should be read by readers of all political stripes. It should be read by journalists, as it is in part about journalism and its failings. And it should also be read by people interested in the remarkable life and career of its author, Michael Gawenda.