If ever there was a dystopian novel that aged like curdled milk, it’s Brave New World. Huxley’s vision of the future is less prophetic and more pretentious—it’s the literary equivalent of someone trying to predict the future by licking a Tesla and calling it “science.”

Where Good Ideas Come From is like a TED Talk on repeat—fascinating, inspiring, and just a touch over-eager to hammer home that, yes, two heads really are better than one.

Chip War turns the humble semiconductor into a ticking time bomb, showing how a sliver of silicon has become the ultimate pawn in a global power struggle.

In Berserker!, Adrian Edmondson blends riotous comedy with raw vulnerability, taking readers on a wild ride that hits as hard emotionally as it does hilariously.

Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act is less a guide to art than a gentle nudge toward living creatively, whether you’re crafting a masterpiece or just arranging your sock drawer with flair.

Mark Manson’s The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fck* is the literary equivalent of being hit repeatedly with a blunt object while someone yells, “It’s for your own good!” Spoiler: It’s not.

Atomic Habits serves up habit-building basics with a motivational punch, though you might feel like it’s telling you things you already know—just with a bit more polish and a lot more anecdotes.

Brainfluence is a crash course in mind manipulation for marketers, exposing the brain’s hidden levers that make us click, buy, and trust a little too easily.

Ready Player Two by Ernest Cline is a sequel that proves the age-old adage: lightning doesn’t strike twice, but disappointment sure can. If you were hoping for another nostalgic joyride through the pop culture wonderland of the ’80s, this book serves up a lukewarm rerun that makes you question why you ever cared in the first place.

The Fran Lebowitz Reader is a masterclass in deadpan wit, perfect for anyone who’d relish watching modern society get skewered with Fran’s unapologetic, razor-sharp prose.

Imagine being trapped at a party where the host won’t stop listing every single movie, video game, and cereal brand they loved in the ’80s. That’s Ready Player One in a nutshell—except the party lasts for 370 pages, and the nostalgia isn’t a casual mention; it’s the main course, dessert, and after-dinner drink.

Reading A Hero of Our Time is like being mesmerized by the world’s most magnetic, insufferable antihero—Pechorin will steal your attention, break your heart, and leave you wondering why you ever cared.