I am part of a book club.
A group of us meet once a month to eat, drink, and discuss books. We’ve been getting together for several years now. Our group has grown, gotten smaller, almost stopped meeting, then sort-of re-vamped, and got bigger. As much as combining edibles, with read-ables and friend-ables is so much fun, sometimes there are bookclub nights that I just want to hang at home. The week has wore me down and I just want to hide out in my home. Occasionally my week has gotten the best of me and I do stay at home, but usually I end up going and I can say I am always, always glad that I went.
Last night was no exception. In fact, last night was great. For the most part, the book we were supposed to have read was kind of a disappointment. I didn’t get past chapter three. One of the girls had put book-darts by a few passages and even though she didn’t love the book, her marked passages sparked some great conversations, which led to some pretty funny tangent conversations. We were all laughing and just having such a good time. We were in a restaurant (we vary between our homes and restaurants) and I did notice a table or two around us, but really I was just enjoying our group as if we were the only ones there. We have our similarities and of course a love of books, but we also bring our differences as well. One of my favorite things related to our differences is the variety of book choices and recommendations. Since the formation of this club, I have read many books I otherwise would not have. Not because I would’ve turned my nose up, but simply because there are so many books out there. We vouch for books that we love, that make us laugh, or cry, or even scare us. We recognize the details that we know will also catch the eyes of each other. We remember the books our friends love and push them to the fronts of our lists that already have too many books on them.
I got home around ten last night and my house was silent. I slipped in to my pjs and though I was tired, stayed up a little longer to check out some of the books we had all talked about. After that, in the midst of a dark and quiet house I took a few minutes more and read before I also joined my family and went to sleep.
It’s nights like that that are among the good things in life.
“Ah, how good it is to be among people who are reading.”
– Rainer Maria Rilke