There were plenty around, just none that suited me. Our local library ran several. I did, in fact, make an enquiry there. The librarian I spoke to suggested none would suit me. "Unless you like discussing Jodi Picoult novels for five minutes then sharing photos of your grandchildren for the next hour over tea, I don't think these groups would suit you," she laughed.
I don't have grandchildren. Nothing against Picoult, but her genre is not my kind of reading, And, as these book clubs ran weekday afternoons, I would have been at work anyway.
After I moved to the UK, I again looked for a book club. A couple of false starts, then finally I found one. I had high hopes for it. I attended for around 18 months. I never truly loved it, never really enjoyed most of the books chosen, and never really felt connected with any of the other members. (I might say, this is no reflection on the members)
It simply wasn't the club for me. Finally I decided to quit for a number of reasons. Sigh.
It simply wasn't the club for me. Finally I decided to quit for a number of reasons. Sigh.
Fast forward to this year and I have found a book club. I became aware of this club in a most peculiar way. I took a chance, and I'm so glad I did. I am absolutely loving it. I look forward to each meeting. I really enjoy every second, the people involved, and the way it is run.
Finally, the right club for me.
It arrived at exactly the right moment for me. Just the tonic I needed - along with a couple of other things in a similar vein.
Needs are being met but you have to give as well as receive. I'm making efforts there as well, and these efforts seem to finally be coming to fruition.
All good things come to those who wait? I'm not convinced by Violet Fane's maxim, but my patience appears to be paying off here.
