I grew up in a large family of seven. My father instilled the library habit in me early and many of my fondest memories of him involve our monthly trips to the tiny branch library where he would select his Erle Stanley Gardners, his Zane Greys, and his nonfiction adventure stories while I devoured books of all kinds as fast as I could.

My oldest sister Janice was also a reader. She picked up Dad’s taste for fat James Michener historicals, but also had a good selection of literary fiction on hand. My brother John is also a reader, who at times has favored thrillers, has dabbled in science fiction, but most often these days has a book about current events.

Somehow, the reading bug never bit my mother or other four sisters as strongly. Mom had her religious books and Laurie, my nearest sister had short flings with Victoria Holt, but family obligations and craft projects always seemed to fill their time first. When a pulmonary embolism took Dad and breast cancer claimed my sister Janice too young, reading in the family seemed to be dwindling. Among my many nieces and nephews, the habit seemed even more scarce. All the gloomy reports about the death of reading seemed to be sadly demonstrated by my own family.

Don’t underestimate the lure of the book. Reading is making a comeback in my family.

I wish I could take credit. I’ve talked about books with my family over the years, sent a few largely random choices out as gifts, and always spoken highly of my love for library work. But I live on the other side of the country from my Utah home, and my promotion of reading has been far too half-hearted to revive them as readers on its own.

On a recent trip home, I was pleased to hear about new favorites from many of my sisters. Lynette has become a voracious reader of authors like Maeve Binchy, Rosamunde Pilcher, and a slew of suspense and thriller writers. She visits our hometown library a couple of times a month. Shauna and Pat told me about newly discovered favorites like Jeanette Walls’ The Glass Castle or Jennifer Chiaverini’s Elm Creek Quilter series. Laurie had her nose stuck in Beverly Lewis’s latest Amish romance. Shauna even spoke highly of her first foray into my beloved fantasy genre, a successful encounter with The Goose Girl and The Book of a Thousand Days by Shannon Hale. Mom has gotten into the act too: as she turns 80, she seems to be reading more fiction than ever before.

Now my sisters are beginning to pass books around, and curiosity is driving the new family habit to ever higher levels.  The younger generation is noticing: slowly, my nieces and nephews are beginning to pick up more books. I nearly swooned when two of my sisters talked about how they would like to find book groups to join.

I honestly can’t explain why reading has revived in my family. I never thought it would happen, but it has taught me on a very personal level that people can find a love for books at any point in life. 

For those of you in book groups, keep promoting what you are doing. Talk about good books with your friends, even if they don’t read. Invite them to attend a meeting and see what it is like. Children aren’t the only ones who are more likely to read if they are surrounded by a culture of reading. It may take years, but you never know when someone you care about will come around to the joys and comforts of reading.

As I mentioned in my last post, one of my group members found an excellent interview with Yates that was very informative to the group.  I found a lengthy article by Stewart O’Nan about Yates’ work that also helped me prepare for discussion.

I did not, however, get a chance to comb over the book a second time to prepare notes, examine the full arc of the story chapter by chapter, as I often do.  For one, I have just returned to my work as a Readers’ Advisory Librarian after 6 months as an interim Branch Manager for two library branches.  So while I know I have been distracted, I thought I had prepared enough.  But I left feeling like I had left the group down a bit.

The discussion went really well.  My book group is a funny, smart bunch, and they all brought different insights and questions to our discussion.  But I left somehow feeling disappointed–in myself. 

Usually, I am good at steering the conversation gently, tabling issues and scenes that occur towards the end, guiding us to relive the book through its story arc and themes.  I don’t necessarily go in with a map in mind of how I think a discussion should go.  I believe that book discussion should flow organically, that one comment or question should lead to another.  But I know, and I think the group can feel, when we have gotten off track, or are backtracking or not transitioning smoothly from point to point.  As a book group facilitator, I feel it is my job to help smooth transitions.  It is my job to make the group feel that we have discussed a book fully in our hour allotment. 

We definitely covered a lot of territory in Revolutionary Road in our discussion.  But we ended by talking about the violent tragedy that ends the book in our final minutes without really tying it all together.  And somehow I walked away feeling I had failed.

Maybe I am just being hard on myself here, but I am wondering how other book group facilitators deal with this.  How do you examine your own performance at the end of each discussion?  Does anyone else feel the way I felt this week, and how do you move on?  Is this kind of assessment even constructive?  Maybe I just need some “book group therapy” of a different kind…

Thanks for listening.

  Today I received three sample reading guides from Grove/Atlantic to give me an idea of what they wanted.   Two of the books – Turpentine and Up High in the Trees – I’m not familiar with. I certainly know the third title, Sherman Alexie’s The Indian Killer, and stock it in our campus bookstore, but I haven’t read it. Let’s see if these samples can give some definition to this nebulous thing called a reading guide. 

To my surprise, all three samples are short and quite simple – a numbered list of a couple dozen “thought questions.” In a real sense, these aren’t study guides or reading guides, either. They’re discussion guides. Their goal is to highlight the ambiguous or debatable elements of the novel, the controversial or provocative moments that might spark an insight or difference of opinion. The questions are designed to elicit the feelings and opinions of the reader.

This is a relief to me, because an actual study guide would have had to include more. There is apparently no historical background section, so I won’t be expected to explain the war in Bosnia, thank goodness, or what happened to the real village on which the novel is based. That spares me a hefty chunk of very depressing research. None of the reading guides had interviews with the author or a biographical sketch. All they really consist of is 21-24 questions about character motivations, reader reactions, and literary techniques.

These are more facilitator aids and conversation-starters. The purpose is not to dispense enriching supplementary information. It’s goal is to trigger discussion, the questions designed to deepen the reader’s appreciation of the novel’s complexities and subtext.

In Nick’s Notes, my own private study guides that I create for University Book Store, I have veered to the opposite extreme – dispensing with topics of discussion altogether, Nick’s Notes are simply a tool to induce memory recall and provide the vocabulary of the book. To do that, I create an outline of chapter-by-chapter plot summaries, followed by the name of each character where they first appear and notable quotations from the text. Just the facts. The characters and places and page numbers you need at your fingertips to be able to talk about the book.

As for the topics to discuss, I generate them through a technique used in recovery support groups – it’s called a check-in. The evening’s conversation begins as each member “checks in” with a short two-minute “stand” on the book, how they feel about their experience with it, what they liked, what they didn’t like. As each member does this, themes of interest quickly become apparent. That’s where I, as facilitator, guide the discussion. In addition, I’ll admit, I usually come loaded with one or two questions of my own, ones often without answers. These aren’t hard to dream up. If you’re a thoughtful reader, questions pop into your head all the time. What made her go there? Why did she believe him? Who’s telling the truth?

But now I need to provide a kind of conversation ladder, a step-by-step stimulation for a book group meeting on this sometimes difficult, always thoughtful, frequently hilarious book. I need to come up with twenty-four challenging questions that will spark a thoughtful evening of conversation. A template of questions to examine how the novel is put together and what’s on the author’s mind. Actually, with a book as rich and delightful as this one, creating a reading guide is going to be fun.

For decades of my life, study guides meant only one thing: a zebra-striped, yellow-and-black series of pamphlets called Cliffs Notes that were generally used for cheating. The Cliffs Notes version became a way of disparaging any condensation or expurgated version of a story, a kind of cheapening by shortening. Teachers hated them. Sleepy students smelling like last night’s party were the ones who bought them.

  Then when book clubs became sighted by the publishing industry as a potent new customer base, the study guide had a rebirth. Suddenly every new trade paperback was defaced with a little announcement that questions were waiting for you at the end of the novel. No longer did the hostess have to fuss over what to discuss; she could concentrate on the hors d’heurves and have her list of questions readymade. As a bookseller, I’m used to pooh-poohing the study guide craze.

But their usefulness is genuine. I’m a great user of notes – my own. I always take notes when reading a stimulating book. And I offer these notes – usually a chapter-by-chapter outline of the plot, with all the characters listed by their first appearance and identifying traits – called Nick’s Notes in my monthly email for University Book Store. I encourage my readers to just kick back and enjoy the story, and know that when they forget a character, they’ve got a handy reference sheet all set to go. When I launch the Gay Classics book club in six months, I’ll be creating study guides for each book. I’ll want them to be informative and useful. I’ve got to decide what they should include.

Just to push this discussion of study guides one step farther, two days ago I received an email from the marketing department of Grove/Atlantic. Because of my online review of their book, How the Soldier Repairs the Gramophone, in Shelf-Awareness, my article about the author, Sasa Stanisic, here on Book Group Buzz, and my choosing the book as the July Nick’s Pick for University Book Store, I was asked to create the Grove/Atlantic study guide for the book.

Exactly the kind of study guide I’ve always pooh-poohed.

  Time to re-think this, as I get ready to make one. What should a study guide really try to achieve? I’m thinking a study guide has three functions:

1. Memory refreshing. It includes a summary of the basic plot points and the names of the characters, to facilitate discussion.

2. Thought provoking. It includes provocative thought questions: why are there seven narrators? Why does the story start twice?

3. Background enrichment. When does the story take place in history? What factors of the Bosnian war affect the way the story unfolds? How is Sasa Stanisic’s personal history reflected in his novel?

Grove/Atlantic will be sending me some sample study guides, to show me what they’re looking for – and in the meantime, I’ll be considering different methods of organization, looking for the format that works best. I’m starting with the basic template that I use for Nick’s Notes. Rather than separating out the chapter plot summaries from the character names and the interesting quotations, I blend them all together in a chronological outline, so that each chapter summary is followed by the characters introduced there and the passages to remember. But we’ll see. There are many different methods of doing this, and I’m going to construct the most effective memory-stimulus package I can design.

The first discussion was on The Birth of Venus, Sarah Dunant’s absorbing tale of forbidden love in Renaissance Florence, and even though I came with plenty of thought-provoking questions to raise about the story, the group was interested in exploring contemporary parallels to the mistreatment of women described in the book.  We had a stimulating discussion nevertheless, and I made a mental note to add “contemporary parallels” to my list of potential discussion topics for future books.

But when I met with the library science group to discuss Raymond Chandler’s classic hardboiled detective story, The Big Sleep, a week later, the students didn’t want to talk about contemporary parallels — they were fascinated by the cinematic aspects of Chandler’s writing style.  One participant compared the book to film noir, and I hastened to explain that The Big Sleep, which was Chandler’s first novel, was published before the wave of film noir dramas that swept through 1940s cinema and actually may have contributed to the development of the style, in that it was later adapted into a famous Bogart-Bacall star vehicle.

The students weren’t particularly concerned with the rough treatment of women depicted in The Big Sleep — it was “sort of what you’d expect for that era” — which showed me once again that what especially intrigues one group may have minimal interest for another.  This element of unpredictability — it’s always there, no matter how hard one tries to figure out how the discussion will flow in advance — plays a major part in keeping book discussions interesting and challenging for the leader.  You learn something from every discussion experience, and you fervently hope you can apply the lessons later on.

Every month, one week prior to our meeting, I send out an e-mail reminder.  Because it is a Library book group, I find that this helps tremendously.  This way I hear from members if something has come up, if they have gone on vacation, or if they need an extra push to get through the book.

It is also my chance to provide some background materials for discussion.  When I hand books out the next month’s books, I generally provide discussion questions that I find online or that I create myself.  But when I send my one week reminder, I like to send articles or interviews that will enhance their reading experience.   Sometimes, too, group members will get inspired to do some searching themselves on an author or book, and take this as an opportunity to share with the group.

Next week we are discussing Richard Yates’ 1961 classic Revolutionary Road.  Since a film directed by Sam Mendes and starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet is slated to be released later this year, I found an article by a Yates biographer about Yates’ own tragic relationship with Hollywood during his lifetime.  I also shared an NPR “You Must Read This” spot and audiofile entitled “An Emotional Journey Down ‘Revolutionary Road.’”

One reader responded to me with a 1972 interview with the author in “Ploughshares” which I forwarded to the group.

So what do you do to enrich your group’s experience?  What do you do to prepare?  Do you share articles, interviews, biographical essays?  Do you compare the book and the movie? 

And if you have anything to share with me or my group about Richard Yates or Revolutionary Road in particular, you have one week.

  Today I’ll dive in, and I’m eager for the pleasures that lie ahead, but the experience won’t be quite the same. Reading and re-reading look similar, they’re achieved by the same process, your body is in the same position, the pages turn the same, but what happens is something else.

I re-read a book in the hope of recapturing some of the pleasures of my first experience. Sometimes, with the best literature, you discover new depths and levels. Re-reading Proust was a humbling experience, to see just how much my thick head had failed to perceive. Re-reading Joseph Conrad or Iris Murdoch provides that same sense of “how much I missed the first time.”

First-time reading provides a one-time-only addictive thrill that re-reading can never hope to equal, but that first reading doesn’t reveal the mechanics and geometry of the book, which only become apparent looking back from the other side of the book’s ending. If the set-ups were successful, they were invisible the first time – the second time they glow like fluorescent flags.

I remember how Balram tells me at the end of the first chapter that he will cut his master’s throat. I was tempted to put the book down – I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend a whole book in the company of a murderer – but it was too late. I liked Balram. I had to know what would bring him to do that. What would make a character I liked do something so dreadful – and do it to the only other likeable character, the only one to treat Balram kindly? Disturbingly enough, in reading The White Tiger, you learn just exactly that.

Re-reading has its limitations. It doesn’t work as well in buses, for instance. It isn’t as effective during the little breaks of the day. That’s when I need the “And then, and then” lure of new narrative. Bus rides and coffee breaks aren’t for thoughtful re-evaluation of technique. They’re for inducing reading hypnosis. They’re for escape from the present. The unknown works best.

The emotions in re-reading will be different than the first time. They will probably occur in new places. There will be an additional depth that wasn’t there before, the pre-knowledge of events, my emotional footprints from the first reading.

A thin layer of memory from now on will always be part of The White Tiger. I’ve recorded my personal set of emotional responses into the narrative. I won’t be caught by surprise. I know in advance what happens to Balram and his boss. But where the element of surprise is lost, the elements of form and pattern and technique will become a new part of my reading pleasure. I’m about to see how it all the parts of the novel fit together.

1) OPEN UP THE POSSIBILITIES

Instead of assigning a particular book, select a broad topic like mysteries, romances, or thrillers. When they have choices, your members may find it easier to squeeze a book into their schedule.

 2) LIGHTEN THE LOAD

By all means pick books that are easier in the summer months. That could mean shorter page counts or it could mean lighter subject matter. For a very light month, you could even allow your members to pick a short story.

3) PICK A SUMMER TOPIC

Beach books or travel stories make good choices in the summer when everyone’s mind turns toward a vacation, even if they can only take one on paper. Find out where some of your members will be traveling this summer, and pick a schedule of summer books set in the those locations.

 4) SPREAD A BIG BOOK OVER TWO MONTHS

Take a month off from meeting, but assign that big book that your group has always wanted to try. If you try this, send a few email tidbits about the book to your members a couple of times during the off month to encourage them to get the reading done. 

5) RE-READ A FAVORITE

Make your theme for the month the re-reading of a favorite novel or a return to a book that you read in your school days. Re-reading usually takes less time and if need be, you can always cheat a little by talking about an old favorite without re-reading it.

6) REVERT TO CHILDHOOD

Try reading a young adult novel or some children’s books for your summer meeting. While you’re at it, talk about the books that got you excited about reading as a kid.

7) CHANGE UP YOUR LOCATION

Take advantage of summer weather to meet at a restaurant with a patio or the backyard of one of your members. Pick a book that matches with your location.

8 ) TRY A FILM ADAPTATION

If a movie from a book is playing in the theaters, go see that one month. Go out for dessert afterwards and discuss the book. Or for an even easier approach, read the book one month, then watch the film the next month. If the movie isn’t in theaters, hold a screening at a member’s house or pass around DVD copies.

9) GET GRAPHIC

Graphic novels are usually quicker reading. Put together a small list of possibilities for different types of readers and have each member try one that looks good to them. Make sure you bring these books to the meeting to pass around, as looking at them is half the fun.

10) PUT THE BOOKS AWAY (gasp!)

If your group needs extra incentive to attend try putting the books aside for a month. Throw a party. Go out to dinner. Go out to a ball game. Share your vacation photos or plans with each other. If you want to stick to bookish topics, spend a meeting planning your schedule of books for the next six months.

These are a few of my ideas. Do any of your groups have summer meeting ideas that you’d like to share?

  I really need a committee. Sure, I can choose and assemble the titles on the reading list, and I can put together a few sample study guides, and facilitating the discussions is no problem. I can figure out how to write grants, I suppose, but it’s going to take time to learn how to do it right. And I can learn how to place ads in the local weeklies – that shouldn’t be too difficult, but it’s likely to be expensive. And I know how to write news releases, but figuring out who to mail them to can be time-consuming. I can do it, of course, but at the same time I’ve got to be reading a half dozen key books I haven’t read before, and re-reading twice as many that are fuzzy or forgotten. You would think there was enough time – our launch date is January 2009. But the Pride Foundation’s deadline for applications is August 29. So maybe not that much time.

I know how to do this stuff because I’ve created a group at University Book Store. It’s lasted five years. But I’m used to having a marketing team behind me. I’m used to turning in copy and having a poster appear. Now I’ve got to figure out how to market this club. I’m convinced that letting people know a reading group exists is the key act in forming one. The first step needs to be done right. Outreach is everything. Those readers who are longing to discuss books are out there, if I can just notify them. 

Our project, the “Gay Classics – Let’s Read Them Together” project at Dunshee House, has become a two-year plan. Coming up with the top 24 books was much easier than the top 12, and I’ve got a great list (see future blog). But the order of reading them needs to be left fluid. I’ve decided to only announce the first three titles with the launch, so that I can have some flexibility in matching book content to group dynamics. Those first three titles need to be easy access, big name, compelling experiences. My goal is to make this book club into a provocative new gay social event in Seattle. 

I’ve got a photographer who’s just about ready to commit to donating his services. We’ve discussed what I want – I need a poster and a postcard with an image no gay man can fail to notice. The image for “Gay Classics – Let’s Read Them Together” is two attractive naked young men in a yin-yang position suitable for mutual oral sex – except that they’ve each got an open book in front of the other’s equipment. They’re curled together reading. They’re more interested in their books.

Around them will be floating names – Thomas Mann, Virginia Woolf, E. M. Forster, Gore Vidal, Yukio Mishima, Jean Genet, Rita Mae Brown – the names of the most familiar and beloved of the selected authors. 

At the bottom will be the dates for the first three meetings to discuss the first three books. The compelling question now is: which ones? How do we start?

The more ambitious novels I’ll hold back till the group is more confidant – The Counterfeiters and Pale Fire and Orlando. But I’ll want three big guns to get this going. My instincts tell me one of these needs to be about women, and I think I’ve stumbled on the greatest lesbian novel ever written (see future blog). I would have thought Maurice would be perfect for younger gay men, until I heard a young male reader shrug it off as boring. Boring! When it was first released from its time vault and published in 1972, I took it home from the bookstore the day it arrived and read it in one sweat-and-tear-drenched night. But maybe not today. Maybe something younger, like Edmund White’s A Boy’s Own Story. And for older gay readers, maybe Christopher Isherwood’s A Single Man. Or Gore Vidal’s The City and the Pillar. 

Meanwhile, I’ve discovered that a volunteer who helps facilitate one of the support groups at Dunshee House knows about grant writing. I’ve emailed him about my project. A man who volunteers for one thing might volunteer for another. Maybe I’ll get one more person on my team, a desperately needed member. Then with Jacob the photographer and Brad the literary historian and David the future head of Dunshee House, maybe with these guys and one or two more, I’ll be able to get this dream project on its feet and give the Seattle gay community a thriving and vital book club.