I have a confession. I’m a cheater.
It doesn’t make me a bad person. Does it?
Maybe I should explain…
As a writer, I wanted to better understand what other women enjoyed reading, gain their perspective on different genres, and delve into emotional responses. I wanted to talk about books. So, a few years ago, I asked a friend if I could join her book club. It was perfect timing, she said. They just lost a member and a spot opened up. Kismet.
Everything went smoothly for some time. I read a bunch of books I never would have considered on my own, enjoyed debates and discussions on plots, protagonists, themes. It was heavenly. Summer rolled around and meetings were postponed or canceled due to end of school activities, vacation conflicts, whatever. I became restless. There were rumors of another club forming…I started to wander…
I knew what I was doing was wrong. I never considered myself a two-timer but something drew me to the others. How do I put this tactfully…my book club wasn’t giving me enough “book” to keep me satisfied.
I strayed and wiggled my way into book club no. 2.
I tried to keep both groups separate, never discussing the goings-on of one to the other. I started to get sloppy. Got my books confused. I got caught. The confrontation was difficult. For a time, things were fragile with Book Club no. 1, but I promised they would always be my first. I explained as tactfully as possible, they weren’t giving me enough. I needed more. Over time, I proved my loyalty; never missed a meeting, always prepared with my discussion questions, hosted with appropriate snacks and libations.
That was a year ago. Since then, I have enjoyed two meetings a month, two books a month (I read others, but always the picks first) and everyone seems to have accepted the situation. And if one club skips a month, I have the other to keep me interested.
Book club no. 1 (now referred to as Lit Ladies) meets on Friday nights. Much vodka is consumed.
Wine Not Read (aka Book club no. 2) meets during the week. 90% of the group are teachers, so from Sept through June, the meetings end by 9:30. One bottle of wine is needed at best.
Two totally different experiences. Both satisfying in their own way. What one doesn’t give me, the other does. And, I believe it works for all involved. They understand I love them both in their own way.
Two relationships at once? I’m not saying its right. I’m just saying I understand.