It had been months since I read my last book. Maybe internet is killing my attention span. (Quite grave for someone like me, who used to read 100 books a year.)
But I could finish this book in two sit-downs. I finally got back on the bike. This little self help book seemed almost clinically sewn to cure my literary drought. Its chapters are short, the titles are click-bait (and often misleading), and there is so, so much clusterfuckery going on, I couldn't help but read more and more.
Because it is interesting to read about the life of someone who got rich and then lost everything. The author also dealt with depression, and by the looks of it, some mild social anxiety. He just doesn't feel ashamed about the numerous faults he did in his life, and even if some of the stories sound ludicrous, the author depreciates himself so much, it all just reeks honesty.
Sometimes the style is ranty and all over the place, and some chapters end with an articulation of abstract nouns that reads like an Instagram inspirational post. I skimmed those parts. Despite that, I enjoyed the foot-on-the-ground advice (eat well, sleep well, surround yourself with positive people, and write down your ideas daily.)
For someone who couldn't read a book in months, I'm glad I'm back on the marathon.