Started reading this on a whim. Got a message on my Kindle that I could read it for free if I started in the next 24 hours. The first few pages grabbed me so I kept on. Turned out to be a solid, if unexceptional little mystery. Almost immediately there are a lot of balls in the air—multiple mystery threads to be followed. The author does a good job keeping the story lines moving along and me moving from short chapter to short chapter. While reading I kept having the thought—maybe one more rewrite would have helped shore up the characterizations, fix some dialogue and add in some scenes that seemed to be missing. Later I realized the author had written nine books in this series in three years. Kinda shows. This is a good set up for the other books, some angsty character territory to mine but the tone and tenor of this one does not tell me they will be mined very deeply. For a book about detective work, not nearly as much of the story is detected as it is exposition dumped by suspects or suicide notes. And how many hired killers weapon of choice is to blunt object their victims. Speaks to me of possible job dissatisfaction.

This edition is a slim interpretation of the classic Hindu text that results in kind of a summary of a summary. The Gita posits a talk with God (via Krishna) about the fundamentals of Hinduism. It did inspire me to read further, and it is not without some grace, but in retrospect not a whole lot better than CliffsNotes.

Dark, brutal and funny action adventure exploration of heaven and hell and their mutually dependent self serving natures and modestly put--the shortcomings of humanity. First heard of this from a Barnes & Noble bookseller who liked some unrelated t-shirt I was wearing and thought I might like Preacher. I don't know who sent you, but thank you mysterious stranger.

At once a puzzle, mystery, history, memoir, and fantasy. Multiple puzzles in fact. There are actually crossword puzzles built into the format of the book. There is also the out of order chapters to make sense of—working the way memories often do, random and disjointed—which can be read in different orders (up & down). And the central mystery, when you boil down a life or boil down the history of a place—what does it all mean. The author lets you know there is kind of a sliding scale of participation. It’s okay to forgo the crosswords and any attempt to put the story in linear order—it’s okay to just let it wash over you. . It’s not a real memoir and not a real history but that doesn’t matter. The main character is an architect near the end of his days, the book laid out like fragments of plans that show his life. There were times where I was lost or dumfounded but much of the time was sheer fascination moving through a world almost entirely new to me—Serbian history and religion are not my strong suits. History personal and global touched with magical realism is in my wheelhouse. Begs to be re-read which I rarely do (always want that next book). But I have read Sadegh Hedayat's THE BLIND OWL three times to get a handle on that. So maybe….I’ll revisit this Landscape. There were times when I thought two of my favorite authors were mashed up in this book--Vonnegut & Pynchon (who couldn’t be more different). A very good thing. I bought this at a library book sale knowing only that I liked the title and loved the cover. Sometimes there are forces at work who’s machinations have yet to reveal themselves.

Often fascinating look at an American tragedy. The very personal murders of dozens or hundreds of Osage tribe members by their greedy white neighbors and often family members aided by the law, the courts and the government was a slow motion genocide. Another shameful chapter of our history better brought to light than forgotten. Willful forgetting of our history seems to be on a lot of minds these days--think the Red Summer of 1919 or the Tulsa Massacre of 1921 or the Rosewood Massacre of 1923 (most civil war confederate statues were erected between 1890 & 1929). The Osage murders probably spanned from 1919 to 1931-difficult to know exactly how many murders there were thanks to the disinterest of white society. At turns illuminating and infuriating but definitely important. Impressively researched pulling together scant and scattered materials. This struggle to gather data leading to my only real knock on the work--portions of the middle of the book loses structure and just becomes throwing facts onto the page with out much structure. I know this is a result not having much background to put in-between facts and suppositions but still felt disjointed and a bit of a pill to swallow as a reader.

There is not a dramatic draw to this memoir. These are not the years when Sir Alex Guinness was breaking in as a young actor. These are not the years when he made his name in England’s Ealing Studio comedies--nor the years of his greatest triumphs working with David Lean. This is the memoir of the quiet years of a gentleman in repose. Day to day diary entries reveal how one comes to terms with one’s waning years with a gentle and amusing grace. There is a game of tag with memories but the present always wins. This memoir covers the window where the actor has come to terms with acting being too demanding upon his age. There is a kind of freedom in that. Something comfortable about cats and weather and koi fish being the arbiters of your day—friends and memories of friends something you pull on like old sweaters. An unassuming diary of dignity and connection and breathing in what remains of the day.

Fascinating unraveling of the scandalous rise and fall of the medical tech company Theranos and it's founder and immoral driving force Elizabeth Holmes. Reads like a thriller and doesn't require a science background to be enjoyed. As disheartening as all this rampant greed and hunger for fame is--was inspired by those who saw the red flags and tried to do the right thing often at great personal risk. If you don't read much nonfiction, this might bridge that gap for you.

THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING by Joan Didion and Gabriel: A Poem by Edward Hirsch are the two most profound and moving contemplations of personal loss that I have read. Where Gabriel is a raw scorching scream of anguish, MAGICAL THINKING is typical Didion, understated and seeping into your lungs like a low fog until you slowly feel the weight of it hindering your breath, pressing against your heart. It is not unrelenting, you will not be overwhelmed, but it is unforgettable and highly recommended.