Conversation With Myself by Nelson Mandela. I was excited to pull this from my stack of books. This book jacket is beautiful. The detail of the close-up picture of a smiling Mandela, with a face full of beauty and wisdom, is breathtaking.  I just knew it was going to be delightful. How could it not be? It’s Mandela, and the forward of the book was written by former president Barack Obama. Sadly, that is where the joy ended. Now, I understand that Nelson Mandela is a change manager, and I adore and respect him. However, this book did not make my 50-page mark, it left me feeling the same way I did when reading Lorraine Hansberry’s autobiography. The format does not flow. This is not your typical biography. There is no chronological order in Mandela’s archives, including excerpts of conversations, letters, speeches, and diary entries. You do get to see the influences and the struggle Mandela went through by some of the pieces written by the amazing man himself, or correspondence from friends, but it’s just too much to try to put together the rambling style that was presented in the book.