Last night I came to the conclusion that the book club I've been in for the last 10 1/2 years just isn't doing it for me anymore.
When I joined, all those years ago, I was pregnant with Thing 2, and was dying for some thought-invoking discussion. I read some really interesting books, found a love of classics, and met with a great group of women once a month.
The last few years, however, have seen a steady decline of the quality of books, and of the discussion. For last night's discussion, only two of us read the book (The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Could be better translated, but there's some lovely imagery there). It's kind of hard to have a discussion when it's the presenter and one other person. You feel like every one else is left out. Which, of course, they are since they didn't read the book.
Anyway, it doesn't seem fair to the presenter, who has to go to all the work of creating discussion questions. No, it's really rather rude. Can you guess who the presenter was last night? It's not easy finding books that fit everyone's criteria. I tried doing books that I thought were good discussion books, although they weren't everyone's cup of tea. And I've just about gotten to the point where I'm choosing easy-to-read brainless books. And why? Why, when no-one reads them anyway? (Sorry, M. You always read the book.) I feel like I'm the one holding book club together, and it's just not worth it anymore.
So, I'm going to join a library book club. There are several in the area, so I could go to this one this month and that one the next, if I so desire. No worrying about people not showing up for dinner, or whining about how far it is to my place. No worrying about making dinner! Although that, too, has gone by the wayside; we usually eat at a restaurant now.
No, although it's been a part of my life for over ten years, I'm ready to let it go.
I just need to figure out how to break it to everyone.