📚Haruki Murakami Books Ranked

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running is a memoir by Haruki Murakami where he talks about two things that define a big part of his life: running and writing. Murakami didn’t always plan on being a novelist. He was running a jazz bar in his twenties when, while watching a baseball game, he suddenly thought, “I could write a novel.” He gave it a shot, it worked out, and he eventually sold his bar to focus on writing full-time. But sitting at a desk all day, smoking and not moving much, wasn’t doing his health any good. That’s when he picked up running. For Murakami, running is more than just exercise—it’s part of his routine and, in a way, a metaphor for writing. Both take endurance. Both are long hauls where you push yourself day after day, even when you don’t feel like it. The book follows him as he trains for marathons, competes in triathlons, and grapples with the slow decline of his physical abilities as he ages. He talks a lot about acceptance—accepting getting older, accepting bad race times, and accepting that sometimes you just don’t do as well as you hoped. His attitude is basically: That’s life. You move on. The writing style is straightforward, like he’s just talking to you over a coffee. He doesn’t dress things up. Sometimes he rambles, mentioning things like cycling habits or going off on tangents about global warming. At one point, he describes running the original marathon route in Greece—sun blazing, salt stinging his eyes, everything uncomfortable. But through it all, there’s this calm acceptance. He’s not trying to convince anyone to run; he just shares what it means to him. By the end, what sticks isn’t just the running or the writing, but the way he embraces both the highs and the lows—the post-race blues, the joy of finishing, and the satisfaction of something as simple as a cold beer after a long run. It’s a book about effort, routine, and learning to keep going, no matter what.

An electronics salesman who has been deserted by his wife agrees to deliver an enigmatic package— and is rewarded with a glimpse of his true nature. A man who views himself as the son of God pursues a stranger who may be his human father. A mild-mannered collection agent receives a visit from a giant talking frog who enlists his help in saving Tokyo from destruction. The six stories in this collection come from the deep and mysterious place where the human meets the inhuman—and are further proof that Murakami is one of the most visionary writers at work today.

Toru, a serious young college student in Tokyo, is devoted to Naoko, a beautiful and introspective young woman, but their mutual passion is marked by the tragic death of their best friend years before. As Naoko retreats further into her own world, Toru finds himself drawn to a fiercely independent and sexually liberated young woman. Stunning and elegiac, Norwegian Wood first propelled Haruki Murakami into the forefront of the literary scene.

In a Tokyo suburb, a young man named Toru Okada searches for his wife’s missing cat—and then for his wife as well—in a netherworld beneath the city’s placid surface. As these searches intersect, he encounters a bizarre group of allies and antagonists. Gripping, prophetic, and suffused with comedy and menace, this is one of Haruki Murakami’s most acclaimed and beloved novels.

She has entered, she realizes, a parallel existence, which she calls 1Q84 —“Q is for ‘question mark.’ A world that bears a question.” Meanwhile, an aspiring writer named Tengo takes on a suspect ghostwriting project. He becomes so wrapped up with the work and its unusual author that, soon, his previously placid life begins to come unraveled. As Aomame’s and Tengo’s narratives converge over the course of this single year, we learn of the profound and tangled connections that bind them ever closer: a beautiful, dyslexic teenage girl with a unique vision; a mysterious religious cult that instigated a shoot-out with the metropolitan police; a reclusive, wealthy dowager who runs a shelter for abused women; a hideously ugly private investigator; a mild-mannered yet ruthlessly efficient bodyguard; and a peculiarly insistent television-fee collector.

"Antifragile: Things That Gain from Disorder" by Nassim Nicholas Taleb is a groundbreaking exploration of systems and entities that thrive and grow stronger in the face of stress, volatility, and chaos. Taleb introduces the concept of "antifragility," which goes beyond resilience or robustness. Through a mix of philosophy, practical wisdom, and real-world examples, Taleb illustrates how embracing uncertainty and leveraging disorder can lead to success and innovation. This book is essential for anyone interested in risk management, personal development, and understanding how to benefit from uncertainty and change.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running is a memoir by Haruki Murakami where he talks about two things that define a big part of his life: running and writing. Murakami didn’t always plan on being a novelist. He was running a jazz bar in his twenties when, while watching a baseball game, he suddenly thought, “I could write a novel.” He gave it a shot, it worked out, and he eventually sold his bar to focus on writing full-time. But sitting at a desk all day, smoking and not moving much, wasn’t doing his health any good. That’s when he picked up running. For Murakami, running is more than just exercise—it’s part of his routine and, in a way, a metaphor for writing. Both take endurance. Both are long hauls where you push yourself day after day, even when you don’t feel like it. The book follows him as he trains for marathons, competes in triathlons, and grapples with the slow decline of his physical abilities as he ages. He talks a lot about acceptance—accepting getting older, accepting bad race times, and accepting that sometimes you just don’t do as well as you hoped. His attitude is basically: That’s life. You move on. The writing style is straightforward, like he’s just talking to you over a coffee. He doesn’t dress things up. Sometimes he rambles, mentioning things like cycling habits or going off on tangents about global warming. At one point, he describes running the original marathon route in Greece—sun blazing, salt stinging his eyes, everything uncomfortable. But through it all, there’s this calm acceptance. He’s not trying to convince anyone to run; he just shares what it means to him. By the end, what sticks isn’t just the running or the writing, but the way he embraces both the highs and the lows—the post-race blues, the joy of finishing, and the satisfaction of something as simple as a cold beer after a long run. It’s a book about effort, routine, and learning to keep going, no matter what.

Skin in the Game may be nice but The Black Swan is the OG Nicholas Taleb. Read this book to learn how to think and avoid biases and reread at least once very couple of years.

The best book about the best director in the world. It was such a great book it was adapted into a movie. Bet the other books on this list can't say that!

“I set out to write a book about what to do to make a great work of art. Instead, it revealed itself to be a book on how to be.” —Rick Rubin

“I set out to write a book about what to do to make a great work of art. Instead, it revealed itself to be a book on how to be.” —Rick Rubin

There are few creative acts more mysterious and magical than writing a song. But what if the goal wasn't so mysterious and was actually achievable for anyone who wants to experience more magic and creativity in their life? That's something that anyone will be inspired to do after reading Jeff Tweedy's How to Write One Song. Why one song? Because the difference between one song and many songs isn't a cute semantic trick—it's an important distinction that can simplify a notoriously confusing art form. The idea of becoming a capital-S songwriter can seem daunting, but approached as a focused, self-contained event, the mystery and fear subsides, and songwriting becomes an exciting pursuit. And then there is the energizing, nourishing creativity that can open up. How to Write One Song brings readers into the intimate process of writing one song—lyrics, music, and putting it all together—and accesses the deep sense of wonder that remains at the heart of this curious, yet incredibly fulfilling, artistic act. But it’s equally about the importance of making creativity part of your life every day, and of experiencing the hope, inspiration, and joy available to anyone who’s willing to get started.

by George Orwell an expedition into who people are and what life is

In his journal, Nobel Prize winner John Steinbeck called East of Eden “the first book,” and indeed it has the primordial power and simplicity of myth. Set in the rich farmland of California’s Salinas Valley, this sprawling and often brutal novel follows the intertwined destinies of two families—the Trasks and the Hamiltons—whose generations helplessly reenact the fall of Adam and Eve and the poisonous rivalry of Cain and Abel.

"Antifragile: Things That Gain from Disorder" by Nassim Nicholas Taleb is a groundbreaking exploration of systems and entities that thrive and grow stronger in the face of stress, volatility, and chaos. Taleb introduces the concept of "antifragility," which goes beyond resilience or robustness. Through a mix of philosophy, practical wisdom, and real-world examples, Taleb illustrates how embracing uncertainty and leveraging disorder can lead to success and innovation. This book is essential for anyone interested in risk management, personal development, and understanding how to benefit from uncertainty and change.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running is a memoir by Haruki Murakami where he talks about two things that define a big part of his life: running and writing. Murakami didn’t always plan on being a novelist. He was running a jazz bar in his twenties when, while watching a baseball game, he suddenly thought, “I could write a novel.” He gave it a shot, it worked out, and he eventually sold his bar to focus on writing full-time. But sitting at a desk all day, smoking and not moving much, wasn’t doing his health any good. That’s when he picked up running. For Murakami, running is more than just exercise—it’s part of his routine and, in a way, a metaphor for writing. Both take endurance. Both are long hauls where you push yourself day after day, even when you don’t feel like it. The book follows him as he trains for marathons, competes in triathlons, and grapples with the slow decline of his physical abilities as he ages. He talks a lot about acceptance—accepting getting older, accepting bad race times, and accepting that sometimes you just don’t do as well as you hoped. His attitude is basically: That’s life. You move on. The writing style is straightforward, like he’s just talking to you over a coffee. He doesn’t dress things up. Sometimes he rambles, mentioning things like cycling habits or going off on tangents about global warming. At one point, he describes running the original marathon route in Greece—sun blazing, salt stinging his eyes, everything uncomfortable. But through it all, there’s this calm acceptance. He’s not trying to convince anyone to run; he just shares what it means to him. By the end, what sticks isn’t just the running or the writing, but the way he embraces both the highs and the lows—the post-race blues, the joy of finishing, and the satisfaction of something as simple as a cold beer after a long run. It’s a book about effort, routine, and learning to keep going, no matter what.

Skin in the Game may be nice but The Black Swan is the OG Nicholas Taleb. Read this book to learn how to think and avoid biases and reread at least once very couple of years.

By Mathew Walker - We sleep 1/3 of our life yet understand so little about it...

"Project Hail Mary" is a space adventure story written by Andy Weir, the same guy who wrote "The Martian." It's about a man named Ryland Grace who wakes up on a spaceship with no memory of who he is or why he's there. He figures out he's on a mission to save Earth from disaster. The story follows him as he tries to remember his past and complete his mission, which involves a lot of science and problem-solving. Along the way, he meets an alien, and they form an unlikely friendship. The book is full of cool science stuff, suspense, and humor. It's like a mix of a mystery and a space adventure, with a lot of heart. The narration by Ray Porter is superb, with sound effects and excellent voice work.

"Project Hail Mary" is a space adventure story written by Andy Weir, the same guy who wrote "The Martian." It's about a man named Ryland Grace who wakes up on a spaceship with no memory of who he is or why he's there. He figures out he's on a mission to save Earth from disaster. The story follows him as he tries to remember his past and complete his mission, which involves a lot of science and problem-solving. Along the way, he meets an alien, and they form an unlikely friendship. The book is full of cool science stuff, suspense, and humor. It's like a mix of a mystery and a space adventure, with a lot of heart. The narration by Ray Porter is superb, with sound effects and excellent voice work.

In his journal, Nobel Prize winner John Steinbeck called East of Eden “the first book,” and indeed it has the primordial power and simplicity of myth. Set in the rich farmland of California’s Salinas Valley, this sprawling and often brutal novel follows the intertwined destinies of two families—the Trasks and the Hamiltons—whose generations helplessly reenact the fall of Adam and Eve and the poisonous rivalry of Cain and Abel.

A Gentleman in Moscow is a historical fiction novel by Amor Towles. It follows Count Alexander Rostov, a Russian aristocrat who, after the Bolshevik Revolution, is sentenced to house arrest in the grand Hotel Metropol in Moscow. Instead of being imprisoned in a cell, he’s confined to the hotel, which becomes both his cage and his world. The story spans several decades, starting in the 1920s and running through key moments of Soviet history. Most of it unfolds inside the hotel, which is no ordinary place—it's a bustling, self-contained universe. Rostov, who begins the story living in a lavish suite, is forced to move into a tiny attic room. Despite this fall from grace, he navigates his new life with wit and charm, forming friendships with the hotel staff, guests, and unexpected visitors. The book isn’t just about the Count’s personal journey—it’s also about how time changes people and places, how history creeps in even when you’re standing still, and how small acts of kindness and loyalty can shape a lifetime. The setting, the Metropol, is richly described, from fine dining rooms to back corridors. There’s a good bit about food, music, and Russian culture, and plenty of philosophical musings, but it never gets too heavy. At its core, the novel is about making the best of what life throws at you. The Count is an old-world gentleman stuck in a new world that wants to forget people like him. How he handles that—sometimes with grace, sometimes with stubbornness—is what makes the book compelling. It's quietly dramatic, occasionally funny, and surprisingly heartwarming, all without needing big action scenes.

She has entered, she realizes, a parallel existence, which she calls 1Q84 —“Q is for ‘question mark.’ A world that bears a question.” Meanwhile, an aspiring writer named Tengo takes on a suspect ghostwriting project. He becomes so wrapped up with the work and its unusual author that, soon, his previously placid life begins to come unraveled. As Aomame’s and Tengo’s narratives converge over the course of this single year, we learn of the profound and tangled connections that bind them ever closer: a beautiful, dyslexic teenage girl with a unique vision; a mysterious religious cult that instigated a shoot-out with the metropolitan police; a reclusive, wealthy dowager who runs a shelter for abused women; a hideously ugly private investigator; a mild-mannered yet ruthlessly efficient bodyguard; and a peculiarly insistent television-fee collector.

In a Tokyo suburb, a young man named Toru Okada searches for his wife’s missing cat—and then for his wife as well—in a netherworld beneath the city’s placid surface. As these searches intersect, he encounters a bizarre group of allies and antagonists. Gripping, prophetic, and suffused with comedy and menace, this is one of Haruki Murakami’s most acclaimed and beloved novels.

In his journal, Nobel Prize winner John Steinbeck called East of Eden “the first book,” and indeed it has the primordial power and simplicity of myth. Set in the rich farmland of California’s Salinas Valley, this sprawling and often brutal novel follows the intertwined destinies of two families—the Trasks and the Hamiltons—whose generations helplessly reenact the fall of Adam and Eve and the poisonous rivalry of Cain and Abel.

Even the smartest among us can feel inept as we fail to figure out which light switch or oven burner to turn on, or whether to push, pull, or slide a door. The fault, argues this ingenious -- even liberating -- book, lies not in ourselves, but in product design that ignores the needs of users and the principles of cognitive psychology. The problems range from ambiguous and hidden controls to arbitrary relationships between controls and functions, coupled with a lack of feedback or other assistance and unreasonable demands on memorization. The Design of Everyday Things shows that good, usable design is possible. The rules are simple: make things visible, exploit natural relationships that couple function and control, and make intelligent use of constraints. The goal: guide the user effortlessly to the right action on the right control at the right time. The Design of Everyday Things is a powerful primer on how -- and why -- some products satisfy customers while others only frustrate them.

Even the smartest among us can feel inept as we fail to figure out which light switch or oven burner to turn on, or whether to push, pull, or slide a door. The fault, argues this ingenious -- even liberating -- book, lies not in ourselves, but in product design that ignores the needs of users and the principles of cognitive psychology. The problems range from ambiguous and hidden controls to arbitrary relationships between controls and functions, coupled with a lack of feedback or other assistance and unreasonable demands on memorization. The Design of Everyday Things shows that good, usable design is possible. The rules are simple: make things visible, exploit natural relationships that couple function and control, and make intelligent use of constraints. The goal: guide the user effortlessly to the right action on the right control at the right time. The Design of Everyday Things is a powerful primer on how -- and why -- some products satisfy customers while others only frustrate them.