I admit that I have gotten very little reading done over the last few months. Sometimes life just gets in my way. So, joining a book club probably isn't the smartest thing for me to do at this point. That's always part of the fun of doing something anyway really. Here I am trying again...
I have awful luck with book clubs in Connecticut. I have been a part of three. I tried to start my own. All of those were disasters.
I really do think it's my fault though. I am way, way, way too much of a nerd. I want to do things like read quality literature, examine the novel, and discuss issues raised in the book. What I've learned about the women (men rarely seem drawn to discussing literature in an group) I've met so far is that they want to read things that are "light" or "fun." They want to talk--just not necessarily about the book. And they like puppies. And kittens. The more puppies and kittens in a book, the more chance a book club will absolutely love it.
But, I am determined to be more easy going about it this time. I am going to read the next two books. No matter what. I am going to look at this as primarily a social group instead of primarily a book group, and see where it leads me. I'm just going to put the little nerd inside me on the shelf for a couple of months. She'll be there when I get back. She'll be reading Proust anyway and too busy to notice I've even been gone.
As an aside, last night I dreamed that I was distracted by a puppy while people robbed me of all the possessions I had left in the world. Weird, right?