Late last night, I finished the twenty fifth book. I had taken a luxurious summer-vacation-only nap in the middle of the afternoon, and was still restless come ten, eleven o’clock. So I finished Do No Harm by Henry Marsh, on neurosurgery. He’s kind of an arse, Marsh, but it was an interesting book to read, especially compared to my main man, Atul Gawande. The twenty fifth book means I’m a quarter of the way through the year’s reading for 2015. When… Read more »