Read Something

I'm often asked by friends and colleagues for book suggestions. It's an ever-challenging task to speculate upon somebody's taste in literature, even when presented with options or a precedence of sorts for what another reader may fancy.

Different people enjoy different forms of literature, where the person's aesthetic presentation gives little insight to their preferences. As the old adage goes, you can't read a book by its cover.

My physical appearance would give an inquisitive passerby a sordid impression that I'm really into Niezstche and Sartre and critically acclaimed bandwagoneers the like, while simultaneoulsy bowing at the alter of the David Halberstam's and Dick Schaap's of the world. There was once a time when I read books I was told I would like because they were an influential artist's seminal work or some lavish and epic Tour De Force. These days I read because I want to be entertained, rather than the purpose of any form of enlightenment or to check one off the 'Must Read Before I Croak' list.

To come full-circle, if you want my advice, I'm going to suggest those books that I find entertaining. For every person who's fallen for a writer that was suggested to them or found on 'Must Read' lists, there is a person who adores the work of clandestine artists whose work is found on clearance racks masquerading as garbage heaps curbside.