George Saunders meets Blake Crouch. And if that isn't a good enough description for you, how's Andy Weir if he cared about prose (and politics)? I went into this collection mostly excited to read the story that birthed Arrival, and left quite excited to read further collections from Chiang. He tackles sci-fi concepts in depth without shying away from the math or theory, but also weaves that into the structure of his writing (unlike his aforementioned commercial counterparts).

Pretty forgettable, but I guess that's the point? This is a run-of-the-mill, slice-of-life literary fiction novel. It's written competently, but without a lot of oomph. You could argue that aligns with the central theme of the story—fearing mundanity while striving to embrace it—though, I think this could be achieved with much more oomph. And for a theme that's been beaten to death by the genre, that's definitely required. The one memorable takeaway from this book (because it

More about psychedelics and less about cults. I could see this being an interesting book for someone interested in the psychedelic landscape, both scientifically and historically/anthropologically. However, I entered this story under the impression that it centered a cult leader “guru” and would be much more of a criminal exploration than a moral one. Because of that, this wasn’t my exact cup of tea. I did still find certain sections interesting, and I certainly learned a lot

This was published in 2007 but feels like a tale as old as time. I remember the first fantasy book I ever read, Shadow & Bone, and how it consumed me so entirely I read it all in one sitting, completely transported to another world. The Name of the Wind consumed me in a similar manner, but instead of making me feel like I had fallen into a new world, it made me feel like I had returned home to one I've missed. ’I am a myth,’ Kote said easily, making an extravagant gesture. ‘A