I rushed out of work late this afternoon to meet up with my book club at a local wine restaurant. I hadn't read the book. It wasn't for lack of trying, but I just could not find a reason to stay interested in this month's selection. To be clear, it wasn't the writing. I actually appreciated the way the author crafted her words, I just didn't care enough about the story.
I used to feel guilty if I showed up for book club without reading the chosen text. Fortunately, my group is very forgiving. Their forgiveness isn't all that surprising. You see the club is made up of former elementary school teachers. I started my teaching career with 6 of the core members of the group and they are just as cheerful and forgiving as any kind, jolly elementary school teacher you could conjure up in your imagination.
The discussion part of the evening doesn't usually last more than fifteen minutes. Once we each put our two cents in we downshift into dinner, wine, and a lot of laughter.
No matter the book, and how much I've read- I can always count on leaving with a smile on my face.
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