Today, I have Kate Kaynak, author of Minder (book #1 of the Ganzfield series) here to take over the blog. So without further ado, here's Kate!
The Perfect Book Club
"This is the year. This year we'll actually start that book club."
My neighbor raises a skeptical eyebrow. She's heard me say that before.
"I mean it this time!"
She's probably right to roll her eyes like that. Neither of us has much free time, and we need to work around my husband's business travel and her husband's late shifts at the hospital. Still, the dream refuses to die. I picture a gathering of interesting women sitting in my living room--glasses of wine in hand, since we're all over 21 and live in walking distance--having animated discussions about amazing books.
I step into my actual living room and the dream dribbles away. The kids have made a couch-cushion fort again. The now-abandoned battlements sink into foam-filled ruins. The cat has attacked another tassel on the footstool, leaving a bedraggled wad and little gold threads strewn in front of the fireplace. This will not do. Before I can have those interesting women here, I'll need to clean up.
Or maybe I could just give them more wine. We could hold the book club in the cushion fort—I want to be friends with people who'd be up for that.
The guest list runs through my head. I've even considered the foods I'd ever-so-casually have out on the decorative platters. My husband and I received eight decorative platters as wedding gifts--many of them are still in the boxes from the move. The move was two years ago, but I refuse to let the kids use them--they can eat their chicken-nuggets-shaped-like dinosaurs off of the everyday plates, thank you very much. The platters are for special occasions--like book club.
What should we read? I have a few things to suggest, particularly if they are as passionate about YA as I am. Hunger Games? Beautiful Creatures? Uglies? Wake? How about Jessica's Guide to Dating On the Dark Side? Ooh, and Linger! I also love paranormal stuff written for adults, and there's a bunch of great series, like Peeler's Tempest books, Harris' Sookie Stackhouse, Vaughn's Kitty stuff, Harper's Nice Girls, etc. I melt for anything by Nicholas Sparks. I could also be convinced to do something classic--Jane Austen? Charlotte Bronte? Hey--we could even compare the thematic similarities of Pride and Prejudice and Twilight--they're there, and they're amazing. Don't believe me? Here, have more wine. And next month we'll read Austen's Emma and watch the movie Clueless.
I won't let them pick one of my books for the club, though--I don't want to become the prima donna of book club. Actually, I want it too much, and that's part of the reason I will demurely and modestly say that I don't want it. I get too swept up in my own stories and might say something like, "The characters took over the second half of Adversary, and they wouldn't let me write the climactic scene the way I'd originally planned. I had to re-plot the ending after what Zack did."
People think I've had too much wine when I say things like that.
But wouldn't it be great? Why can’t I spend an evening each month with a bunch of friends, talking about books, drinking wine--and possibly building a cushion fort? Dare to dream.
Ah, it makes me wish I had a book club...