With very few exceptions, I find contemporary self-improvement books the perfect example of the “this book could have been a blog post could have been a tweet could have been left unsaid” chain.

A core of truth, but terribly written. Zero imagination, neither wisdom nor joy. What they lack in depth they make up for with contrived examples.

While authors like Hesse, Kafka, Tolkien, Goethe, Dickens, Fry, and Wilde have given me so much more.

Sometimes it’s a sentence. Sometimes the mood of a chapter. Maybe a casual observation made by a side character or a short poem that carries the weight of many a novel.

Never directly relating to my work, but deep insights in to humanity transcend everything.

And if there’s nothing you find applicable, at least you’re left with beautiful language that is worth indulging in for its own sake.

(A euro-centric list, antiquated maybe. But timeless. Naturally, every period and culture has gifted us with comparable works.)