Are you in a book club? I really want to know — if you are, tell me about it, and if you aren’t, tell me why!

I’m in a book club and I love it so much. Although the true number of members is much larger, there are 6-10 people who reliably show up. There’s no reason we don’t have men in our group, we just don’t. The women are mostly young; if I’m not the oldest, I’m second oldest, and there’s one woman a bit younger than me. Otherwise, they’re mostly in their late 20s, early 30s. They’re smart and accomplished — lawyers, writers, media producers, they work in publishing, big pharma, all with fancy careers. (And then there’s me, sitting on my couch freelancing in my jammies.)

We meet once a month, on a weeknight, at a member’s apartment; hosting duties rotate among us, though some of us can’t host for one reason or another. The host usually provides food, which ranges from chips and veggies to all-out sumptuous spreads. Then we each bring a bottle of wine. The host gets to select the book we read, and we all try to finish the book but usually only a few of us actually finish. In months past, it didn’t matter if anyone finished, because we talked about the book for a total of 2-3 minutes, and that was my real disappointment because I wanted to talk about the book. But the women are so great, and I really enjoy their company, so it was ok.

Last night we talked about the book the entire meeting, after we talked about our book swap/holiday party we’re having next week. I LOVED IT. We read The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides. I didn’t like it; I haven’t been captured by any of Eugenides’ books yet, and this was no exception. I won’t go into it, since I’m not intending this post to be a book review. Some members liked it a lot, some asked questions none of us had thought about, some had insights, some just expressed their opinions, or asked questions, but all together it was a fun conversation.

Being with everyone definitely lifted me out of my blah, and made me realize anew just how important our connections are. I think in addition to feeling bad about not seeing my kids for Christmas, I was also feeling disconnected from friends, cast aside (not really) in some way (not really, but that kind of feeling), unimportant to anyone, etc. Sitting among those women last night, I got to feel the connections between us all, even though I don’t know them all to the same degree, a few I’m marginally comfortable with and others I adore.

I have so little time to read for fun, and I’m not always happy with the selected book, but I try to read it anyway. It’s usually the only book I read for fun, so the power of our monthly meeting is the real draw. I read an interesting story in the NYTimes this morning about a literary salon set up by a bunch of young literary kids — writers and editors and recent graduates  – and thought I’d love to be part of that too, but not at the expense of my monthly get-together with those great women. I almost always feel kind of high on my way home, and that’s something special.

IT’S DECEMBER, Y’ALL. It looks like this in my neighborhood now:

buying trees in Manhattan

trees decorated on the Columbia campus

How did this happen! Where did the year go……… Happy December! (And tell me about your book club, don’t forget. Also, p.s., don’t forget the giveaway in progress — see this post for details, and leave a comment there.)