It's Happening in New Da
Happy Valley, where I come from has writing groups. You can join a memoir writing group, or a mourning reflection writing group. Traditional fiction groups proliferate, and I've joined a lot of them, and I have really missed writing in my groups.
Today I found out that New Da, where I moved to, fosters reading groups. A flyer appeared in my house, no doubt brought in by me, announcing the Book Clubs of Davidson Fall Tea, this afternoon at St. Swithin's church. I dressed up for it in this gray-green suit I have. Put on lipstick and so forth. Because you never know.
I was glad I did, because when I toddled in, I saw every one of the 98 women there had on a beautiful outfit with perfect sweater or uniquely decorated vest, and all glowed lovely in their makeup. I was channeling my mother in a way, because this is how she spent her time, except her interests were stock syndicates and bridge and an antiques club. She raised me (or "reared," as she would insist) to fit in with yet another group of women (although I did see 2 old men in attendance besides the speaker).
What I was going to say, though: the program for the tea listed 32 neighborhood reading groups, and I was immediately pulled into the one called "New Neigh." The leader, Polly, will be e-mailing me the reading list. And this isn't even the reading group that has the whole town reading "The Bridge."
"That might be the library reading group," one of my new reading group member friends said when I asked her. Being in their group, I automatically had friends to sit with for the talk. "Or no wait, that 'Bridge' one could be the bookstore's reading group!"
There's even a reading group that you can't join unless someone moves away or dies--and you have to be SPONSORED to join it. "That's the one Pru wants to join," Leona said across me to Polly; they already know me so well.
"No, no, not unless I move down here permanently," I demurred. It seems I've stumbled into the happening scene here.
Today I found out that New Da, where I moved to, fosters reading groups. A flyer appeared in my house, no doubt brought in by me, announcing the Book Clubs of Davidson Fall Tea, this afternoon at St. Swithin's church. I dressed up for it in this gray-green suit I have. Put on lipstick and so forth. Because you never know.
I was glad I did, because when I toddled in, I saw every one of the 98 women there had on a beautiful outfit with perfect sweater or uniquely decorated vest, and all glowed lovely in their makeup. I was channeling my mother in a way, because this is how she spent her time, except her interests were stock syndicates and bridge and an antiques club. She raised me (or "reared," as she would insist) to fit in with yet another group of women (although I did see 2 old men in attendance besides the speaker).
What I was going to say, though: the program for the tea listed 32 neighborhood reading groups, and I was immediately pulled into the one called "New Neigh." The leader, Polly, will be e-mailing me the reading list. And this isn't even the reading group that has the whole town reading "The Bridge."
"That might be the library reading group," one of my new reading group member friends said when I asked her. Being in their group, I automatically had friends to sit with for the talk. "Or no wait, that 'Bridge' one could be the bookstore's reading group!"
There's even a reading group that you can't join unless someone moves away or dies--and you have to be SPONSORED to join it. "That's the one Pru wants to join," Leona said across me to Polly; they already know me so well.
"No, no, not unless I move down here permanently," I demurred. It seems I've stumbled into the happening scene here.
posted by Pat at 4:44 PM
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