Book Recommendations

May 16, 2024

The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin

This book isn’t about Rubin’s life as a music producer. It’s not about his catalogue of work ranging from Neil Young to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. This is a book about tapping into your creativity and it’s written for everyone. Each page contains a simple passage, much like Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations or the I Ching. Rubin’s book might not be as timeless as those ancient texts, but his clear and uncomplicated wisdom has a similar effect. You can pick this one up at any time to remind yourself about what it takes to be inspired, make art, to stay disciplined. I highly recommend this one to reignite your creative flames.

Enchanted: Awakening Wonder in an Anxious Age by Katherine May

May started this series of essays during the pandemic. She felt disjointed and dull during such a fearful time: “It is the forgotten seam in our geology, the elusive particle that binds our unstable matter: the ability to sense magic in the everyday, to channel it through our minds and bodies, to be sustained by it. Without it, I feel I am lacking some essential nutrient, some vitamin found only when you go digging in your own soil.” In each essay, she explores ways to become enchanted by even the smallest of things. May is an earthy beautiful writer. She makes her way from this elusive foggy state toward an awakened, awestruck one. From swimming in the ocean, to hugging her son, to smelling the damp woods, she captures those tiny moments that fill our bodies with wonder. Read this to find wonder in your body too.

Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman

I cannot recommend this book highly enough, as it’s the inspiration behind this month’s newsletter. Unlike many other books about time management, Burkeman doesn’t offer tips for “hacking” time or becoming more efficient. Instead, he philosophizes (with cheeky British humor that had me laughing aloud) about how we humans understand time as a concept and how that understanding screws us up. He then walks the reader through new ways to define time and how to befriend and accept our limitations as time-bound beings. It’s a delight to read, and you’ll walk away feeling at peace.

Dedicated: The Case for Commitment in an Age of Infinite Browsing by Pete Davis

Davis explores the ultimate millennial dilemma: endless options deter us from long term commitment. We are trapped in a hallway, always looking into different rooms but never fully walking into one. This captures the feeling I get when I spend 45 minutes looking for a movie to watch, only to wind up re-watching something I’ve seen before. Davis expands on this idea by arguing that if we are privileged enough to have a plethora of options in how we live life – from career choices to where we call home – we are actually missing out on the deep gratification that comes with committing to less. The inspiring case studies in this book captured my attention most.

Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr

Five different characters, all children, exist across time from ancient Constantinople to centuries later in 2146 AD. We meet Omeir and Anna in the past, Seymor and Zeno in the present, and Konstance in the future. A single book and its strange story acts as the thread that ties each character together. I loved the imagery in Doerr’s epic tale, and I was particularly hooked on Konstance’s character because her life on a spaceship felt eerily realistic. But it was the feeling of timelessness that kept me reading. Doerr exemplifies the universality of the human experience and reminds us that our lives are connected beyond time.

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

Imagine a library that exists between life and death with an infinite number of books that hold all the different possible lives you might have lived. Imagine being able to pull any book from any shelf and choose an alternate path, one you wish you could have taken. Imagine liberating yourself from regret. This book is brilliantly structured and so imaginative. It holds a message similar to the one in this letter: a simple life can be a beautiful life. I couldn’t put this down.

Vesper Flights by Helen Macdonald

Macdonald’s essays span the globe, from rural Ireland to the top of the Empire State building, following different species of birds. She writes with such care about our world and its creatures. She brings the natural world to life and immerses your senses.

Migrations by Charlotte McConaghy

McConaghy’s story follows Franny Stone, a scientist running away from a dark personal past in search of a better future for the planet. Franny boards a ship to Greenland to track the last migration of birds that leads her into torrential storms both literally and figuratively. Read this for the dark mystery, and the epic oceanic adventures.

Sing, Unburied Sing by Jesmyn Ward

This haunting story was my favorite of 2020. Set in the Mississippi bayou, a drug addled mother, Leonie takes her young son, Jojo on a road trip to pick up his father who has been released from prison. Through alternating perspectives, we learn that both Leonie and Jojo communicate with the other side. The ghosts who follow them hold stories about their family’s past and reveal dark layers of history within the South. The writing is gorgeous and lyrical. The characters are real and raw. The supernatural elements make this story read like a spiritual hymn. Highly recommend.

How to Murder Your Life by Cat Marnell

This book is the antithesis to self-help literature. It’s the antihero that somehow helps you be a better person by telling you exactly what NOT to do with your life. Marnell has the guts to reveal her most ugly, vulnerable self. She walks you through her drug use, her shallow days writing beauty columns, her careless brushes with death, her stints in rehab. She’s messy. And she’s so brutally honest that I almost envy her – not because I want her murdered life, but because in her writing, she’s free. She presents her guilt and shame and terrible mistakes to us without holding back. Read this if you want to vicariously experience total recklessness but then walk away unscathed.

Just Kids by Patti Smith

Walk the streets of New York City in 1972 alongside photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. Drink chartreuse in Andy Warhol’s paint covered Chelsea Hotel room. Listen to Bob Dylan sing drafts of his now famous songs. Through her lyrical stream of consciousness, Smith lures you into her dreamlike past. What makes Smith such a good writer is her ability to be the observer. She writes about all of the crazy characters around her with great detail and zero judgment. And what makes Smith an excellent observer is she was actually sober during one of the most decadent times in New York City’s history. While her friends were getting high and coming down, Smith was taking it all in and choosing to participate only in spirit. Read this if you want to escape into another era captured with poetic precision.

Born A Crime by Trevor Noah

Trevor Noah’s TV persona is charismatic. But like so many people, I stopped watching The Daily Show when Jon Stewart signed off. I loved getting to know Noah here. His life story is both comical and tragic. He was born during apartheid South Africa to a stubborn and fiery single mother: “My mother checked into Hillbrow Hospital for a scheduled C-section delivery. Estranged from her family, pregnant by a man she could not be seen with in public, she was alone. The doctors took her up to the delivery room, cut open her belly, and reached in and pulled out a half-white, half-black child who violated any number of laws, statutes, and regulations—I was born a crime.” He writes about his isolated childhood, adolescent years hustling in Soweto, and his ambitious move from South Africa to Hollywood. He shares his memories through belly-laughing humor and deep forgiveness. Humor is what so often heals us more than anything else can. Read this to remember that.

Educated by Tara Westover

What does it mean to be educated? We often think of school and degrees. Westover reframes what it means by exploring her childhood in a devout Mormon family with a conspiracy theorist father who believes in an upcoming doomsday. Westover was homeschooled as a kid, barely being taught basic curriculum. So, she decided to teach herself. She stole textbooks, snuck away to school, and made a secret life outside of her tumultuous family. Westover shares all of the trauma she experienced and how she escaped. This is a book about resilience and the schooling we receive from our families and culture. It’s also absolutely gripping. From Westover’s many near-death experiences to her eventual reconciliation with her family, I could not put this down.