Bryan

This is one of those books you can ... smell.

One of my favorite (and heaviest) books I own, showcasing some of the greatest conceptual art ever dreamed up. Legend.

Necessary reading to scratch that 90s FPS itch.

I've read a few versions of Meditations, but this translation is my favorite by a long shot.

I stumbled across this gem in a bookstore in Banff and am glad I grabbed it. If you're into design, you'll recognize Hay as one of the leaders in the Scandi style. This is a deep dive into their history, process, and products.

This book contains the most well-curated collection of design I've ever seen.

A quirky little book encouraging you to surround yourself with the unqiue, weird little objects out in the world.

I'm not sure if it was the translation, but I found the writing in this to be painful at parts. The story is very disjointed, the timeline can jump all over within a span of a page, and the entire story packed focus.

I didn't like the character illustrations at all, but the environments were nice.

Took a bit of reference in order to understand some of the writing, but enjoyable overall.

I recommend this resource - http://www.sparknotes.com/drama/prometheus/

This is probably best suited for beginners, as it was super basic. I wish he'd provide more examples that weren't just different aspects of Mailchimp.

I really liked this. It appealed to my gamer side, while showering me in that sweet 80s nostalgia. If you want to get sucked away into an interesting sci-fi world, you should give this a go.

A design classic from the '60s, this book introduces the simple concept of the relationship of a dot and a line and then provides a ton of examples of varying complexity. There isn't much to read beyond the first few pages, but it's timeless and fun to flip through.

This started off pretty strong, then slowly started unraveling into what felt like short-form tips by the end of the book. Overall it seemed to lack cohesiveness, and a lot of the end of the book felt like filler to take up space.

Absolute despair, from back to front. This WW1 story tells tales of French soldiers in the trenches, and does a masterful job of depicting the pure hell within.

An interesting perspective on morality, but after listening to Sams podcasts for so long, a lot of this wasn't really new to me. Not really a fault of the book as it came out for at earlier, but someone without any prior listening experience might enjoy this better.

Great insight into something I've always been curious to learn more about (art crime). The ending fell a little bit flat for my tastes, but I still recommend it.

This book had a lot of hype that I feel was a bit unwarranted. The short form style of writing should be kept to a blog format.

I'm a bit torn on this one. While I really enjoyed “don't make me think”, this follow up seemed to follow the same pattern too closely.

I often found myself noticing he was repeating himself not only from his previous book, but also repeating points throughout the chapters of this one.

The script was helpful, the maxims were nice, but he should have known focusing on specific software while writing this would badly age certain parts of it.

Since this is just a visual process, I'm not sure why he didn't reference a screen recording of the entire flow in his website, instead of the audio recording of the script.

It's short, but still too verbose. I listened to this one as an audiobook, and it was some of the worst quality I've ever heard.

While I don't care too much for Frank Millers illustration style, his eye for composition is just something else. It's nice to see so much of it carried forward to the film adaptation—as fictional as it is, you can't deny that it's dripping with style.

I went into this not knowing a single thing about tennis. That first chapter sucked me in more than any other book in recent past.

A nice reference guide for those looking to up their writing skills. It was written a while ago, but it doesn't show for the vast majority of the book.

Absolutely loved this. The dark watercolour art paired perfectly with the cruel upbringing of the poor author.

It made me appreciate my childhood just a little bit more.

I loved this just as much as I expected. Considering this book is 70 years old, it still reads like a modern book, while hitting a strange chord in our modern world.

I'm glad that's over. I heard about this book in a podcast saying it would be a perfect primer for jumping into “the classics”. I found Adler lacks a compelling writing style, often being verbose to the point where it started to become frustrating.

There were a few decent takeaways when it came to reading poetry and classic plays, but was lacking information where I was the most interested (philosophy). I just noticed the book is on blinkist—that might be a more approachable way to digest this thing.