Book clubs have practically been around since the beginning of time. No, seriously, the earliest known book club came to fruition upon a boat on its way to the Bay Colonies in 1634. While Anne Hutchinson and her book club did not last, the idea did. In the past, book clubs were a sign of wealth. If you were in a book club, it silently told your standing in society. Nowadays, anyone can start one.
My mom recently came to town for a visit. We spent a whole week laughing, eating good food, and watching some of our favorite movies. The idea of starting a book club came about naturally. My mom was checking to see how clean my room was (as mothers do) and commented on the amount of books I have (which is a lot). Naturally, she asked me if I read them all, to which I replied, “Yeah, most of them.” The greatest lie I ever told. I then said, “We should read a book together,” and my mother, the poor woman, agreed.
After much deliberation, the book we decided on is The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides.
The Virgin Suicides is considered a modern classic, says the back of the book. What appealed to me was the nostalgia the synopsis gave. While reading the synopsis, I was instantly reminded of all those late 90s, early 2000s Lifetime movies.
Specifically, Prayers for Bobby and Hunger Point. The Virgin Suicides is not the usual genre I read, but something compelled me to make the purchase.
If you would like to read along, my mom and I have decided to read a chapter a week. I plan to post our weekly discussions and urge you to share your opinions as well.
Until next time,
Wynnie
Just Wynnie 
Leave a comment