Went to a book club

This evening I went to Mesa for a book club. I found out about the event from the poetry workshop I went to a couple weeks ago. A nice woman named Molly said it would be a casual discussion, not around a specific book but about any book we had read and wanted to talk about. The theme for the night was novellas. It’s a far drive but I had already signed up and put in on my calendar, and I’ve committed to going places this year, so I put on a nice fit, my skull tights and my green sweater and my sparkly heart necklace and my leg warmers and headed out. I brought with me a little flyer with the two books I wanted to discuss, The Stranger by Albert Camus and Pond by Claire Louise Bennett. I also brought this book that I hadn’t read but I figured I could show people, Practice by Rosalind Brown.

The book club was at Mellow Mushroom pizza. I walked in and the waitress guided me to a room in the corner and there were quite a few people. I must have looked like a dear in headlights, my usual expression when I walk into a room where everybody is talking and I sort of know the people but I sort of don’t. Someone complimented my tights and I took a seat in the corner next to Molly. I ordered a diet coke and had a slice of this immaculate pizza with mushrooms and onions and mozzarella cheese, I’ll probably dream about it tonight.

Molly was there with her husband Mike and I immmediatley thought of that TV show Mike and Molly, although I didn’t mention it. We talked about some things, a little bit about the books I read and the books she read. She showed me this app called Fable, which is kind of like Goodreads except it’s not owned by evil villians. She mentioned the gargoyle erotica on her January reads list, and I must have made a confused face and she explained what it was all about (it’s exactly what you think). I guess I used to read some erotica when I was younger, like the fanfiction type (which is maybe not healthy for a middle/high schooler to be reading). I remember reading a ridiculous Vegeta x Bulma fic when I was young, like really really ridiculous (people have incredible ideas about how Saiyan’s engage in those proclivities). There was a time later in college that had a Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood phase, and I was obsessed with Riza x Roy although I didn’t just read straight erotica but fanfiction stories that had that sort of content intertwined, which I think is different but maybe it’s just erotica. Molly described it as a “palate cleanser” from reading more serious books, which I get. I don’t think I read enough books to need a palate cleanser. I think she’s read like 30 books this month which is the amount I’d hope to read in a year. Still, the discussion got me interested in exploring outside of my go to genre of literary fiction and poetry.

Molly explained to me that the reason she reads so many books is because she’s pretty offline. Some people consume TikToks all day but she’s either reading books or listening to audiobooks. I told her that’s “kinda goals,” which is true. I’ve been trying to cut back on my frivolous online time for a while, but I only really got serious about it last year when I deactivated my Instagram. After that I drifted to Reddit and Youtube. It’s the ragebait that draws me in. Sometimes I just scroll around looking for posts to piss me off. I’ve gotten better at finding other things to occupy my time. A lot of the time this still involves the screen and being online. But it’s more watching youtubers that talk about things I like, things that bring me joy. Or I’ll listen podcasts, or read the New York Times. I don’t know if I can get completely offline, but if I can be at a little more strategic with my time on the screen, I’d say that’s an improvement.

I drank a lot of diet coke and had to use the bathroom twice. In the bathroom I could hear the speakers more clearly and ended up Shazaming a song, Sleep by Citizen (For whatever reason, it’s incredibly embarrasing to Shazam a song in front of people). When I came back I saw a stack of books sitting by the window and I asked about it and I learned that Robin, a woman I’ve seen at the other poetry workshops, had gotten a story published. I ended up buying a copy for $10. Robin has published a bunch of her work and even has a book coming out. She talked about how she’s not afraid to get her work out there. She even self publishes little chapbooks for her friends. I can’t help but find this admirable. So often I write and write in my little notebooks, little tidbits that never see another person’s eyes, which I recognize is doing a disservice to myself. Again the phrase “consume and create” comes to mind - my goal of consuming and creating more art. But maybe I can add another “and” to that phrase: share. So this is my written committment to sharing more of my writings this year, whatever that may look like.

Another couple walked in, Damien and aw-fuck-i-forgot-her-name-just-now-but-i-promise-if-i-see-her-i’ll-remember. As it turns out Molly and Mike know them both from high school. They mentioned that their 20 year graduation anniversary was coming up and it occured to me that I had no idea how old these people were. They could say they were my age or they could say they were thirty something and I would believe them either way. I guess the thing about being an adult is that you hang out with other adults and once your an adult, like a real adult, like you pay taxes and can order your own drinks, nobody seems to care how old you are, which allows for a more diverse set of connections to be made. I’m getting used to this instead of naturally falling into a student-teacher mentor-mentee kind of role, expecting someone to talk down at me in the way an adult would to a child but no, we’re equals here, I mean some may have more life experience than others but I can share my thoughts too. Although it was a bit loud in the room which I hate because my voice is not very loud, which in turn has created a bad habit where I sort of give up if I’m in a room with a bunch of people, like a party or whatever, and I just keep to myself, but today I did try to contribute, or at least listen, and I’m glad I did, because I enjoyed what everyone had to say.

Mike talked to me about his love for horror which is a genre I unfortunately hate. I don’t like the visuals of people being stabbed and shot and dragged and gorged, it’s all really gross to me, I get quesy and feel all scratchy like I’ve the one getting tortured by demons or whatever. Well, I can handle all of that in a book because I can just read the words and not visualize it but the movies, the movies I hate. I think Mike got the vibe that I’m super wholesome, which I think I’m not, but I guess I am? Well, today I’ll claim it.

I left around 9 and I promised that I would go to the next poetry workshop with a poem in hand, so I guess I’ll be there. I drove home on the 101 North. I passed by at least three cars pulled over by the side of the road. I saw their hazard lights blinking in the corner of my eye and thought, “I hope there ok.” This album was playing, I bought it on Bandcamp recently, In the Future Your Body Will Be the Furthest Thing from Your Mind by the band Failure. The highway was mostly clear, I was cruising down the dark roads with the guitars swirling around me, digesting the night, thinking of the people I spoke to, the pizza I ate, the book I bought, a sort of souviner. I could feel the story coming to me, the people became characters in my little autofiction, this blog, the words were in my head and all around me. Another song played, Apocalypse Blooms, and the guitars are kind of atmospheric, like they’re surrounding you and swelling inside you, and I could feel the strings looping around me, and the words kept swooping, and the bass deepened like a pool, and I was racing, speeding to get home, to get the words on the page, and I realized like some people have a mind for numbers I have a mind for words, which is useless in my day job. It would have been nice to at least have a mind for communication, so I could maybe give a presentation without wanting to cry halfway through, but no, I have this mind for words, I see everything in words and characters and fiction, so I got home and pulled into my parking spot (and no, I didn’t hit the pole) and I wrote this post.

Book Recommedations I got Tonight Earthlings - Sayaka Murata Vanishing World - Sayaka Murata Such Small Hands - Adres Barba Nightbitch - Rachel Yoder The Librarian’s Gargoyle - Evelyn Shine