My Book Club Genesis

In the summer of 1972, my then best friend Valerie Daly and I founded the Coocamonga Club. It was housed in Valerie’s garage.  We had a club crest (two “C”s that overlapped) and club rules and a secret knock. We couldn’t decide who should be president and who should be vice-president so we both became co-presidents. We were very exclusive. We only had 2 members: her and I.  We had solicited Nina Weissblum (who later changed her name to Naomi, but at that point was still Nina) to join. And while Nina wanted to be a member, since we were normal 12 year old girls, we decided to be mean and deny her application. We also debated long and hard about Jesse Weiner. Jesse lived next door to me. He would have been an asset to the Coocamonga Club, but since he was a boy, we ultimately decided that while we would allow him some privileges of being a member, he could never be an official member. Much the way our Country Club Cherry Valley will not allow me entrance to the Member’s grill or let me play golf on a Saturday morning.

In September of 2004 I founded our book club. It seemed that every woman I knew at that point in time belonged to one—even my mother. So I created ours. I chose each individual member precisely because each of them had some personally flaw congruous with my own. And hey, if I was going to put a group of people together why shouldn’t they all be a little bit like me? And I am comfortable admitting that part of the personal goal for me for creating the book club was exclusivity, ala the Coocamonga Club.  But I also enjoyed reading and needed the pressure of a deadline to get more reading accomplished.

My newly created book club did not have a crest or secret knock, but we did have rules. And as founder of the book club, I created the rules.  It was my group after all. So the rules were based on my personal needs as well as information I had gleaned from other friends who were already in book clubs.

The first rule was that the book couldn’t be too long (>400 pages) or too hard (no Shakespeare or Tolstoy). The second rule was that the members would be willing to buy the book if necessary (i.e. it didn’t have to be from the library.) Rule #3 was the meeting would rotate alphabetically, wine must be served (red and white), and the hostess would choose the book. But the best rule of all was rule #4: no one was obligated to actually read the book. Commitment was too stressful. Everyone would agree to try their best to get the reading accomplished (or started on some cases), but if it didn’t happen, no one would be judged, and members could still attend the meeting.

And it is precisely because of that last rule, that our book club is in reality, a wine drinking, talk about what’s going on in your life, club. Yes. We really do have the best of intentions every month of getting cerebral, but what’s that saying about the road and good intentions? Life just sometimes gets in the way. Best of all, we never judge each other for not meeting the reading deadline (other things maybe, but not the reading deadline) And, as the majority of us are the product of a guilt laden Catholic upbringing, the self-shamed individuals who did not read the book will make a good confession, followed by a group absolution(no Hail Marys required). We are a shame-free (and shameless) organization.

Last August I got a random phone call. It was from Jesse Weiner (I kid you not). I had not spoken to him since my family moved from Yonkers in September of 1972. He now lives in Mahopac or Yorktown or some such place in Putnam County with his wife and family. And Jesse’s wife is best friends with---are you ready? Valerie Daly. Go figure. And I thought to myself but was too embarassed to ask: Does your wife and Valerie belong to a book club?