Danielle

I so enjoyed this lovely collection recommended to me by a friend (thanks, Alyssa!). Mojgani explores oceans of grief while remaining optimistic, which is not an easy balance to strike. There were so many delightful lines that made me smile on the subway, or that I pocketed behind my eyes just before sleep. This is one that I would revisit after a loss, because I think it would take on more emotional meaning for me.

This has the same Gladwellian tempo and somewhat tenuous conclusions as his other books; but as always, fantastic writing and superb storytelling, many showing different sides to quondam media controversies that are always interesting to consider, albeit with a critical eye.

I enjoyed this as a book experience more than I enjoyed book itself. I've never read a fantasy anything like it; it reads like an orated epic a la the Odyssey with the world-building of Tolkien and the brutal violence of Game of Thrones, but all in a very distinctly pseudo-African voice and cultural history. I was fascinated by the way sexuality is portrayed (and that there are ostensibly no white people), the elaborate cast of characters, the consistency of voice, themes of story-telling & truth, lineage, love... but ultimately, this book is a very tedious read. There's no way around that. (Another way it's like Tolkien, I suppose... though I really shouldn't be comparing it to other works because it is so uniquely it's own, I'm just trying to grasp it.) I had to reread some parts a few times and still didn't quite get what going on. I wouldn't read it again, the same way I wouldn't read the Odyssey again, but I really appreciate what the author is doing.

This collection explores contemporary female blackness, from family life to interracial dating, and is an ode to black women (especially in pop culture) who have come before. Parker is a talented poet; the poems were tough but playful with some of the better titles I've read.

This is an intense collection dealing with the status of Latinx immigrants/second gen immigrants in the current State, and how that is uncomfortably entangled with the poets identity. The beginning deals with their past; the titular middle section is raw and angry and frustrated layers of image and sound reflecting dealing with the current; the last section moves through present speculating to the future. It's super timely and emotional so I can see why it's received so much acclaim, but I had a hard time really connecting — probably my upper middle class whiteness speaking, more than anything.

I don't know why I thought this would be anything other than peak chick lit (not a term I love but it's all I can think of that perfectly sums up the book). There were some nice sentiments towards the end (which was rushed and horribly imbalanced compared to other parts of the book) but on the whole I'd deem this more or less mildly entertaining and a bit disappointing. Still love Liz Gilbert though.

I would give this 3.5 stars. It was entertaining enough (albeit in a very sad way — and potentially triggering for anyone who has encountered abuse) but the real interest was in learning about the cultural struggles of Palestinian women/women from ultra conservative Islamic cultures. I thought the dialog felt contrived and the plot was predicatable; but would still recommend for the human interest component.

Wow. Just wow. This book is so marvelously sad. Tragically, beautifully, wonderfully sad. It's that perfect confluence of art, emotion, and entertainment and I absolutely loved it.

I'm finding these days the mark of a good book means a few things for me: 1) I can't put it down, and when I have to, I spend a good portion of the day looking forward to getting back to it. 2) some sentences make me pause and reread to reflect on some sentiment that seems so absolutely true to me, yet so nuanced that I'm almost surprised someone else felt the same 3) I'm completely immersed in a different perspective and a different time — so much so that I feel, viscerally, the pains of that perspective/time... and get so engrossed that I find myself googling, say, “1980s AIDS crisis Chicago” because I need to know everything.

And this book did those things. It sounds corny but reading it, I felt among a group of friends. And the plot is consuming, besides. Great read!

I originally read this book almost exactly 2 years ago, when I started my first product management job in tech. I was still so new to all of these concepts that I didn't really internalize them. Since then, I've been to an intensive, two-day SVPG workshop, have worked with mentors and read related books, and have seen both good behaviors and anti-patterns (sadly, mostly the latter) in action. As I just started a new product management role, I decided to brush up and I'm glad I did because I'm so much better able to understand (and apply!) these concepts. I see why this is the product management bible now! It's chunked in a way that is easily digestible and the writing is clear and concise. Definitely recommend for any PMs.

A devastating, but exquisitely written account of grief in the wake of illness and death. Didion is a master at her craft and this work is a testament to that, and to her love and devotion to her late husband and daughter.

Just as amazing and awfully, beautifully sad as I remember.

Honestly I only read half then skimmed the rest. It was about as cheesy/goofy as you would imagine looking at the author photo. There were some interesting vignettes of the genesis of game-changing ideas, and a bunch of fun quotes but other than that this book was only nominally interesting/helpful.

Super high overview, more focused on project management than product management. There were quite a few distracting grammatical errors. Otherwise a fine quick read for context and basic understanding.

“They existed before, and they exist again, in the city of New Orleans and the United States of America. And Abdulrahman Zeitoun existed before, and exists again, in the city of New Orleans and the United States of America. He can only have faith that will never again be forgotten, denied, called by a name other than his own. He must trust, and he must have faith. And so he builds, because what is building, and rebuilding and rebuilding again, but an act of faith?”

A couple weeks out from my first trip to New Orleans, I thought I would read this book to learn more about Hurricane Katrina from a more personal perspective. It happened when I was in middle school. I remember hearing a lot about it on the news, but as with most distant tragedies, the details have since faded from my memory. This book details the journey of a man named Abdulrahman Zeitoun before, during, and in the aftermath of Katrina. Zeitoun, originally from Syria, is a successful contractor, business & property owner. He is also a caring father, dutiful husband, and devout Muslim. While his family evacuated to stay safe from the storm, Zeitoun stayed behind hoping the warnings were overblown and to watch over his various properties. When the city flooded, roofs of homes barely peaking out over the expanses of increasingly putrid water, Zeitoun did not mourn his luck but rather pulled up his canoe and took this as an opportunity to help those who had been even less fortunate than him. In an unfortunate twist, he is assumed to be a looter/possible terrorist and is detained at a make-shift mega prison, and it only gets more disgusting from there.

Paced beautifully, this reads like a fiction and is an absolutely riveting read. It exposes not only the devastation of the storm, but how the botched response exposed incredible injustices in our justice system. Yet, as in the quote above, both Zeitoun and the book end with a glimmer of hope about what it is to be American, and what it is to be resilient. Wonderful book.

I enjoyed this book as a feminist twist on the traditional Sherlock stories. The exploration of how different Sherlock's stories would be as a woman in a time when gender inequality was so pronounced is provocative and allows for different plot vehicles. Some of those vehicles are questionable if not a little cutesy for an otherwise gritty story. Other than that tone mismatch, I liked the concept, was engaged in the mystery, and found the characters likable, though not terribly well-developed. I did get frustrated that a romantic plot-line was introduced, wary of it wading into the dollar romance category... but then again, the little tweenie part of my heart kind of enjoyed that, too.

From what I've read, the later books in the series are better and this just lays the groundwork. So I may continue on with it.

Listened to the audiobook. I appreciated the varied audio experience (perhaps expected of a famous DJ/musician to incorporate some innovative audio techniques), but can't say I gleamed much by way of creative advice or inspiration. I'm not a fan of “try these tips” books on creativity. I prefer to be inspired by someone speaking through their passion, process, and encouragement. That, and most of the examples he uses are from the music world – which is great, but mostly over my head. This book would be better for an audiophile.

I got this book for free through my Amazon library and can't say I expected much beyond a quick read. I was happily surprised at how much I enjoyed this book. Howard is a good writer, and a great food writer. She really brings tastes, textures, and food experiences alive on the page. And I found aspects of her struggles super relatable (as I suspect any woman growing up in American culture might). I didn't LOVE it, as it waxed a bit dramatic; but I enjoyed it as a pleasant quick read nonetheless.

Listened to the audiobook and LOVED it. May be the best audiobook memoir I've listened to thus far. Michelle Obama is an amazing, strong, intelligent, caring, sensitive, independent, ambitious, creative woman – plus a whole other suitcase of redeeming qualities I haven't unpacked here. All of this shines through in her book and all the more so in the lilt of her unwavering voice. I highly recommend listening to this to learn more about her childhood, the “backstage” of elections and the white house, what it's like to be married to the president and raise children in the white house, how to maintain sanity and grace on an international stage, and how to stay grounded and thankful through it all. Her story is incredible and she's an inspiration through and through. And a beautiful writer! Highly recommend.

This is the most powerful book I've read this year (and I've read some weighty stuff). The book weaves together narratives from different Natives in the Oakland area, from all perspectives – different ages, genders, and families – but also different literary perspectives, from the first person to second to third and in every tense imaginable. Orange is trying to get at this from every angle. He's making us look at every surface in every way; it's a true cubist manifesto, putting together these different pieces until the reader can see the full picture. And then see the picture shatter. (My heart is still reeling.)

Forget Hawthorne and Shakespeare and Orwell – this book should be required reading for all high school kids. Because rectifying what we teach elementary school kids about Thanksgiving and the Pilgrims with historical accounts of the Trail of Tears and various massacres in high school textbooks isn't nearly enough. That still allows us to be so distant from the tragedy of this people; textbook images are “a copy of a copy of a photograph” – so far from the real thing. Distant, cold, impersonal. We can understand the tragedy logically and never come close to feeling it. Read this book and you'll feel it.

It's not historical fiction; it's set in the modern day. But at the same time it is a historical fiction, because each of the characters in this story carries the weight of the past, and feel doomed to continue carrying that weight because we refuse to acknowledge those histories, right the wrongs, and refuse to let the Native people fade into an ethnically ambiguous urbanity. Please – start by reading this book.

Damn. I just finished this, and have that socked-in-the-gut feeling. I had a hard time getting into it at the start; the AABB rhyming felt too Suessian, almost silly, totally at odds with the subject, and kind of hard to follow. But once I got into a rhythm, I was wholly sucked in; the rhyming, though pronounced all the way through, faded into an tragic — nay, operatic — narrative that I was unable to put down. And also caused me to think/dream in sing-songy rhymes... a side effect well worth it for this gem. It's a quick read, and such an impressive piece of writing (seriously, how can someone rhyme that much AND write well AND be witty AND make me tear up?? Sheesh). Just read it, and stick with it. You won't be disappointed.

As of late I've become pretty obsessed with habits and habit change: it's fascinating to me, the concept of wrangling one's subconscious to serve continuous improvement through simple, proven steps inherent to our neurobiology.

I like this book on habit change because it's well-written and organized in a digestible, and actionable, way. The little vignettes are interesting and helpful to anchor concepts and prevent the book from feeling too much like a “how-to,” even though it absolutely is. It's a quick read so if you're interested in habit change I suggest picking it up!

Not the worst audiobook...in fact I quite enjoyed parts of it, in that unsubstantial/junk food kind of way that's driven by superficial plot. In the beginning, I was engrossed because I thought it was setting up for some wild thriller, but it ended up being a kind of flat love story. Good enough to entertain me for long drives and the Aussie narrator was fun, but I wouldn't recommend it.

Do you enjoy laughter? Ok cool, listen to this audiobook. I've never laughed so hard by myself in my car. A delight the whole way through.

Beautifully written, but pretty dang depressing. Basically everyone cheats on everyone, love is fleeting, race relations are incredibly tense, and life sucks... but Baldwin is a fantastic writer of one's consciousness, it's easy to get swept up in this sensuous writing.
Favorite quote that really resonated, exploring paradoxes of the intimacy you can feel with strangers and the strangeness you can feel with the one you love:
“But the face of a lover is unknown precisely because it is invested with so much of oneself. It is a mystery, containing like all mysteries, the possibility of torment.”

I downloaded this audiobook after it came up on one of my favorite podcasts, Malcom Gladwell's Revisionist History. Gladwell spoke to the concept of developing one's own “12 Rules for Life,” which apparently became highly popular as a result of Peterson's lectures/this book.

Being an unabashed lover of rules, self-help books, and academics lauded by Gladwell, I thought this would be right up my alley. And on the face of it, the rules are inviting – from “Stand up straight with your shoulders back” to “Be precise in your speech,” to the less conventional “Pet a cat when you encounter one on the street.” But I struggled from the outset: firstly, this book is all over the GD place. I had such a hard time following; if I stopped paying attention for a few moments (as I often do, typically because I'm listening while doing something else, like driving or cross-training) then I would get super confused. For example, how did we go from talking about taking care of yourself like you would a dear friend to how the cultural narrative of Adam and Eve explains our shame of nakedness? Where's the connection I missed?

This book is a pejorative and wholly overwrought polemic. Though some points of his made sense to me, they were completely lost in a mixture of his own personal experience, the work of other psychologists, scientific literature, summaries of books and historical figures, and long explanations of cultural narratives (often within the same sub-heading, and often fairly unrelated). But it REALLY lost me in Chapter 11 when he went on a neo-patriarchal rant, trying to get the reader to feel bad for poor privileged white boys now they they are underrepresented in college (among a slew of other stupid reasons)? Fuck that, dude.

I still like the idea of having 12 rules for life, but not in the way this book presents. I'd recommend listening to the episode of Revision History instead.