Glad It's Dead

This being in my twenties business is just messed up. Cliches of searching for some path (or another) and being lost and making stupid choices and frittering away time (it seems) are all true for me and this book blog is no exception.

Yeah, I know. I haven't written in months and I'm not even sure Kara and Eileen are checking up on this site. (Oy! Eileen! Kara! Are you guys awake?)

Committing to writing often about something i love to do seemed a no-brainer; but somehow the blog always ended up being at the bottom of the priority list. So, I thought a book club was in order. More satisfying than writing to an audience of 0 to 3, a book club seemed like the perfect solution for the bored, book loving, hungry for discussion and book talk crowd.

But the club floundered, drowning to death today after a score of 1 and 1/2 books in 5 months. PAH-thetic.

The formula for a successful bookclub seemed simple. A+ B = success when A = reading the text and when B = a want to discuss the text. Simple. But somehow, in our group of casual readers other than a rare individual or two, few of the members seemed interested in actually talking about the books.

Truth be told my frustation with the club has been fairly transparent since day 2. Why couldn't we, readers in our individual right, come together as a group (commit to a single night once every 2 months even!) even when plied with wine and finger treats?

I still can't figure it out.

Long story short, the book club died today to a collective sigh of relief.