You know the closest thing I’ve ever come to being in a book club? Being a Deb! All five of us read one another’s books, and get to talk about them both to each other and in our posts. I’ve loved it, and I never for one minute felt that “having” to read the other Debs’ books was a chore. It makes me think I’d adore a book club, even though I’ve never belonged to one.
At the same time, I worry that if I were in a book club, each book would become one more item with a due date on an already long to-do list, and that might take some of the joy out of reading them.
I’m curious — those of you in book clubs — does the book list ever become a source of pressure instead of joy? Or does the thrill of coming together with a group of people to dive into a common topic win out?
I can’t wait to hear your thoughts!