I am a book club junkie.
There. I’ve said it.
It’s an addiction – I belong to three. Each one has a different focus. In one we read only young adult fiction. In another we are a group of men and women, bringing our different perspectives to stories. The third is a large, social group of female friends. In each group we enjoy the fact that the book choices encourage us to read books we might otherwise have missed.
“Reading is the sole means by which we slip, involuntarily, often helplessly, into another’s skin, another’s voice, another’s soul.” — Joyce Carol Oates
Through book club discussions we learn more about ourselves and our book club friends. The themes of the books are springboards for conversation, but the dialogue become so much more as we chew away on the ideas that the books present. We reflect on different ways of living, on different circumstances, on different reactions to events. We are challenged to open our minds to other ways of being. Without a chance to discuss books, the ideas they present have much less impact. I usually like a book even more after the discussion as I learn how other people connected to it or why they felt it was so meaningful.
Book club evenings are the most stimulating ones of the month. They are also the most fun.