A Book Club

I have joined a book club and it is great.

I am an avid reader. My Goodreads challenge is for 100 books this year (and I’m currently only eight books behind schedule.) When I was a kid, my parents would punish me by refusing to take me to the library.

Since moving to the Netherlands, I’ve read plenty but I’ve lacked anyone to really talk about books with. Some of my friends aren’t readers but many are. But they read in Dutch or Spanish or German or Farsi. And even if they are reading in English, their reading history is drastically different than mine. Steinbeck and Dickens weren’t required reading every where in the world, it turns out.

That isn’t to say it’s not fun to talk books with someone who can recommend things you’ve never heard of. But it’s also nice to be able to compare titles with someone who has the same knowledge base that you do.

I’m reading books I wouldn’t have otherwise read, I’m getting recommendations for books I probably wouldn’t have otherwise heard of and I have a captive audience to listen to me whine about books I hate.

This month we read The Road. It was not good. And I’ll get to tell them all about it in a few weeks.

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