Some months ago, a received an email from a lady at work asking me to come see her at my convenience. We’d had some nice chats but I still got that feeling like I’d been called to the principal’s office.
Over a stack of file folders on her desk, she whispered, “We have an opening in our book club. Would you be interested in joining?”
Does a bear sh- well, you know. See, I’ve never been in an honest-to-goodness book club until now. To be honest, I didn’t think they still existed except on sites like Goodreads. Turns out they do, and times are booming at local libraries.
Speaking of time, there’s hardly any left after work, Scouts, piano lessons, working out, eating and sleeping. I’m ashamed to admit that I hardly read at all anymore. A book here and there and lots of news browsing to keep up with the latest political shitstorm, but otherwise, not much pleasure reading. Joining a book club would guarantee that I read at least 10 books in a year! Plus, I’d get to meet some new people at work and build relationships in addition to expanding my literary palette.
The first month, we read I Am Malala. It was very interesting but I wasn’t able to finish it. I got tripped up in the backstory and trying to remember unfamiliar places and names. I’d like to go back and finish it one day.
The second month, we read The Dressmaker by Kate Alcott. Because it was fiction and history is one of my sweet spots, I did manage to finish this one. Not life-changing, but I learned a few things about the Titanic that weren’t in the movie.
The third month, we read Once Upon a Town: The Miracle of the North Platte Canteen by Bob Greene. This chronicles the efforts of a small town in Nebraska during WWII that met every troop train that came through town carrying soldiers from the west coast to their destinations on the east coast before being sent overseas. They supplied them with sandwiches and milk, magazines and candy to raise morale. Great story that brought back memories of my grandmother, who often talked about being a “Depression Baby.” She even had old ration books buried in an upstairs armoire.
However, I failed to finish this one, too. The tone was just a little too goody-goody for me considering the political climate these days. No generation is perfect, not even the Greatest Generation.
This month we’re reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery (translated from French) and it’s … interesting. Very high-brow and intellectual, which I like. There’s enough French still sprinkled throughout that those four years of high school French (and one horrid semester in college) are coming in handy. I seriously doubt that I’ll finish this one, either, as it’s quite dense, but I’d like to give it a shot. It’s not your standard fare, and I appreciate that.
Be sure to follow my progress on Goodreads (I could use
a kick in the ass some encouragement)!
What are you reading? Ever participated in a book club?