I thoroughly enjoyed losing my nose in a book as a child and my teenage self was riveted by the ever-thickening world of literary analysis in high school lit class. My college days supplied hefty stacks of all things nursing field related books but left very little room for stacks of the classics for which I had previously developed a proclivity. Fast forward through college, working, early marriage…I found myself systematically sticking to my pile of spiritual, nutritional and child-rearing material. While those were necessary and serving their purpose I did miss the deep dive into a good novel. That flame for intellectually stimulating recreational reading, though very faint, was still just warm enough to beg for a proper rekindling.

That flame needed a book club. It just didn’t know it yet.

Philosophical genius and romanticism. The two book ends that sturdily sandwiched book clubs together in my mind. After all, there’s such a smart and romantic appeal to a little thing called book club. I mean, come on! Who wouldn’t want to take a sophisticated sip of iced coffee at a park playdate and casually drop “Oh, and I hosted book club last weekend” to a friend… probably after shouting “I’ll give you one push in a minute!” to the swings section, loaded with pairs of legs perfectly capable of pumping themselves?

But such a comment implies an already belonging to such a club. Ideally, it was all attractive; realistically, the required finding and joining aspect that naturally precedes the already belonging was quite intimidating. Not to mention the daunting effect of my misconceived thought that I would be expected to answer each and every discussion question with Dostoevsky-like capacity!! That certainly wouldn’t be happening. So, for years I just sipped coffee and gave underdogs.

Then a near and dear friend presented me with the real-life opportunity of joining her new book club. At first mention, my mind took wing in excitement.

“Here’s my chance!”

Easy enough to join a friend’s book club, especially when you’ll know the other members. Oh, yeah…those other members. That’s when my throat gulped a big lump. I knew these other members were far well better read than I. How could my brain, that had certainly fallen out of practice with digesting analogies and complex plots, remotely stand a chance against these up-to-date, well versed women?

“Nope, I’m not backing out. This is the nudge I need! If all else fails, I will volunteer to clean up the snacks. Oh, and maybe someone will want a gentle push on their porch swing.”

That was a bit over 4yrs ago.

Our little book club has been such a beautiful thing of continuing experience, cultivating knowledge and deepening friendships. Through this group of insightful, kindhearted women I have been introduced to marvelous authors I had never heard of. I have been challenged to push through books I initially found “difficult and boring” to find upon completion they are among my top favorites. I have fallen in love with stories I would have never picked up on my own.

And that lump in my throat? I laugh to think it was even there in the first place. No one is there to care about my nonexistent Dostoevsky-like capacity. And despite that nonexistent capacity, I am pleasantly surprised that I can contribute to book club discussions in many meaningful ways, even if I arrive having never finished the book.

We discuss, we snack, we chat, we discuss some more, we laugh.

My heart swells with gratitude at how much I have grown as a reader and as a person. It’s a truly wonderful thing to understand (or not!!) a novel in one way prior to a discussion and understand it in a revised, broader context afterwards. Everyone’s personal perspectives and proficiencies build the discussion, resulting in our own unique, lovely addendum to each book we read and offering so much more to appreciate about authors, literature, humanity and each other.

You may currently be an avid reader. You may be a bit rusty. You may not even enjoy reading. In any of these cases, a book club may be just what you need!

And I’m sorry you had to miss our discussion last weekend. (I did, in fact, host.)