I’ll say it: narratives can be over-rated.

I don’t think I’ve read a clearer book in message and execution before.

A painstakingly researched marvel, Grann uncovers another long lost piece of history.

I’m not sure how I made it though this beautifully strange book without sobbing, but I did.

A welcome addition to the time travel catalogue of love (and insanely attractive book covers).

Math has a funny of generally being right, and in this case, comforting.

Grief is a go-to emotion for a reason.

The best parts reflect our own reality, the constant footnotes reminding you this isn’t all that far across the fiction/nonfiction line.

It makes you want to hold someone close, to not take anything for granted. And that’s exactly the kind of stories I like.

I enjoy a nice love story when the mood is right, but this was one for the ages.

It was a staple in my day-to-day in those early months, and a reliable check-in the whole way through.

History can be mind-blowing, and I was mind-blown reading this book.

As it’s said somewhere in the book, you can tell a lot about a person by the games they like to play.

“It has been an astonishing decade. Everything and nothing has changed.”

Regardless of the outcome, there’s no author I get more excited for.

If I could recommend anything in a succinct and non-Area X way: stop after the first book.

The premise of the series is profound, but there’s something off in the execution.

I have an overwhelming urgency to tell you not to read this on an airplane, for many reasons.

There’s a lot of reassuring and pep talking and firsthand commiserating, all of which stuck with me as each month ticked by.

Saramago is Portugal’s patron saint of Literature, and now I know why.