I Hate Book Clubs But Love You. And Books. So Join Me, Please.
I was in 2nd grade when I discovered I was competitive.
By the tender age of 7, I’d already accepted truths about myself:
I wasn’t the fastest kid on the playground.
I was decent at piano but Jenny C was better because I never remembered to practice.
My little brother beat me at card games and board games and ax throwing.
My handwriting sucked.
So when competitions came up, I remember feeling like, eh, why bother?
Why bother … until Mrs. Moses, aka the best second grade teacher EVER, announced:
The Book Worm Contest !!!
It was simple:
Read a book.
Write a summary on construction paper “worm” segment.
Tape your worm segment to the wall.
The more books you read, the longer your worm.
(my inner 13-year-old boy child is giggling right now🐛🤣 sorry not sorry).
I am a sucker for a good visual.
Not my worm but similar concept
And. AND. Reading was my favorite.
It was the 80s. I grew up in a house with lots of books and no cable TV.
Reading was my sport.
I remember my entire body tensing with the news that not only could I read books, not only could I write about the books, not only could I see my book report taped to the WALL, well. There was a greater incentive to winning.
The BEST most wonderful thing an 80s kid could get:
A Pizza Party for You and Your Friends
Whaaaaaaaat?
Friends, this was the pinnacle of my young farm-bound life.
Mrs. Moses activated every competitive bone in my body with this content.
I went ALL in.
Every day, I obsessed over the length of my worm. John R was my closest competitor. Since he already had the nerve to share MY birthday AND be a whole year OLDER than me, I had no choice.
I would DESTROY him.
I read and reported on every age-appropriate book in our entire house. I read and reported on every age-inappropriate book in our house. My teacher would hug me with each one, saying things like, I bet your little brother likes reading that book! Or, my daughter didn’t read this book until she was a teenager. (She still let me hang them on the wall, God bless her.)
Friends, I can tell you this much: there is no one more prideful than a lonely, average farm kid staring at a worm wall and seeing hers as the longest.
John R. gave me a run for the money. Yet in the end, true obsession won out.
I won the Book Worm contest!
I’m literally picturing you as my reader cheering here—hurrah! Hurrah!
I tell you this story today because I have a confession:
My “Screen Time” score is embarrassing.
I’m looking for more reasons to put down my phone.
Recently when I was back home on the farm, I read a book I found in a Little Free Library near my place in Denver. I loved it. I left it for my mom. She loved it. Now my friend is reading it.
This is the kind of real life viral shit I love to be a part of.
I love to read. I read less than I could because of my addictive behavior with my device. Which doesn’t feel good in my body.
AND, books my friends recommend are always the best books.
So. My friends who are readers. Let’s start a MiddleAgedLadyShit book club.
But first, I want to be clear: there are only two rules for MiddleAgedLadyShit Book Club.
1. You read a book.
2. Repeat # 1.
Why only two rules?
Well, I’m tired of everyone telling me what to do and how to be and who to be and where to be and what to be.
You, too?
Also, I’m self-aware enough to know that I’m gonna rebel against any rule placed against me, even those that I set. It can be the best book in the entire world and if you tell me I have 30 days to read it so we can talk about it, it’s a big Hell No. I might -- out of guilt and shame -- Google what the book is about on Night 29. But I won’t read it and probably never will.
Besides, regular book clubs are like having plans. All the time.
I dislike having plans. But I do like reading. I like when my friends suggest books. I like talking to my friends about books, even if we’re just talking about the last book we read and sharing what we liked/didn’t like without the expectation that the person ALSO has to read that same book.
I will throw out some optional ideas, just in case you’d like to actively be part of this MiddleAgedLadyShit community.
Optional Idea #1: Share a book you read with me and/or share on social (tag @middleagedladyshit on IG/FB or @middleageshit on Twitter)
Optional Idea #2: Share with me or on social something you learned from reading your book. This doesn’t have to be anything monumental. My friend recently finished a beach read and said, this book reminded me that I used to love to sing and I’ve stopped singing.
I hope she’s singing now, because little things--small joys. They add up.
We all need more joy.
And less rules.
You in? Leave a comment below!
p.s., the more you read, the more I will read, so please, read more so I read more and stay off my damn phone more. Thank you. ;)
