Black Buck, written by Mateo Askaripour, feels so alive that it makes you think it’s a memoir.

I am not quite sure how to articulate how or why this is the case. There are little pieces of detail, subtle moments of self destruction, messy corners of every room that make the book feel so lived in that you find yourself thinking…this has to have actually happened. This has to be real. This is too specific to make up.

However, it is one hundred percent the imagination of Askaripour poured onto the page. 

His characters feel real and fallible and full of the messy stuff that makes humans human. 

Darren, later nicknamed Buck, carries us through an epic adventure of coming to terms with oneself. He starts as a barista at Starbucks and with one clever and ballsy moment, grabs the attention of the CEO of a startup called Sumwun, and “a star is born.”

The cult-like atmosphere of the startup sweeps Buck into its seductive arms of ego-driven life. Buck is always teetering between the best of himself, his ego, and the wake of decisions made when he was mourning his mother’s death. 

Maybe what feels so real is that he is never entirely one thing. He is wonderful in some ways and terrible in other ways. He is wise, and…let us just call it unwise…in back-to-back moments. 

All while threading the life of this fascinating protagonist throughout the novel, Askaripour also challenges the way we look at institutions, traditions, norms in business, and how people of color feel in the best and worst of the push to find balance and diversity in the workplace. 

No matter what your race is, it feels like you can read this book and walk away inspired to consider your actions carefully, and never settle for a life you do not desire. 

Buck teaches you how to sell, and in doing so, teaches you how to listen to the inner voice that leads us to what we actually want—not what we think we want or what others think we want.


This book is alive in every way. It sticks with you. It turns over in your mind days after finishing— months after finishing. I feel like Buck is a guy I used to know. He feels so real that I think I knew him, or maybe I just took Askaripour’s advice from the prologue when he asks the reader to project themselves into the book and into Buck’s shoes.

It’s a tough move. It’s a bold ask, because Buck goes through a lot. For every great decision, he makes an opposite and equally terrible decision. That cuts pretty close to real life no matter which way you slice it.