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a home + living guide for the post-college, pre-parenthood, quasi-adult generation

08.16.2001

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by the book 
how to start a book club
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I'm not an Oprah watcher or a Sex in the City fanatic, and I dont have "girl friends" with whom I blather on the phone about nothing for hours on end. Ive never had a manicure and I can get ready to go out in 3 minutes flat, assuming Ive actually done my laundry, of course (I have an unfortunate tendency to let the dirty clothes pile up). Im not a good girly girl, at all, really, despite the fact that I do favor skirts as a fashion statement.

So I never expected to find myself in a book club, certainly not at 26 and still entertaining the possibly delusional image of myself as young, and reasonably hip. Book clubs, Id always imagined, were what my friendss moms did for fun. And while there was nothing wrong with that, for them anyway hey, Im a big fan of books! the notion of sitting around in a circle with a bunch of middle-aged women, all clad in seasonally-appropriate holiday-themed ugly sweaters no doubt, discussing the merits of yet another heart-rending, inspirational Oprah pick, sounded oh, about as exciting as watching my mother scrub the kitchen floor grout with a ratty old toothbrush.

Then, one day over our usual Friday morning coffee get-together, my friend Christy mentioned that shed been thinking of starting up a book club. Now, Christy is fun and quick-witted and extremely well-read, and she would never, in a million years, be caught dead in an orange acrylic cardigan embroidered with poorly-rendered grinning jack-o-lanterns at Halloween or anytime else. Half the time, what we do when we get together is to talk about books anyway. Her book club, I knew, wouldnt be anything like the dorky book club meetings that Id always assumed were the only sort that existed.

keep walking this way ...

 

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