How to have a successful book group
What To Do: A few tried-and-true suggestions
1. Have me run it.
2. Seriously, let me do it.
3. Okay, fine. I was busy that night anyway.
4. If you insist on doing this yourself, pick your crowd with care. Have a good mix of people. Look for real diversity -- not a bunch of people with different-colored skin and hair and all the same opinions, but a genuine blend of tastes and ideas, passions and preferences.
5. Once you've found some people you'd like to hang out with who are willing to hang out with you and talk books, put yourself out a bit for them. When picking out what night the group will meet, for example, stretch as much as you can, and show a genuine willingness to work with everyone else's schedule. Don't just pick the night that's best for you and leave these poor saps to follow or fall as they may. True, you can do too much of this, as I explain in painful detail elsewhere. But I know a woman who tried to start a group on a day that a lot of the very people she was trying to attract were busy with a local class that they didn't want to give up. The day was good for her, though, and she wouldn't budge, arguing that she was very busy and after all this was her group. Which it certainly was, since after a few attempts at negotiating other days and times were met with a relentless refusal to even entertain suggestions, the people who had been interested in joining the group chose to stay with their original commitment and the would-be leader was free to sit at home alone on "group" days and tell herself what she had or hadn't liked about the book.
6. Speaking of putting yourself out for your group, supply some good food and drink. And by supply, I mean offer with your own little hands. It doesn't have to be homemade, although you'd be surprised at how much more pleasant it is to be offered even the most mediocre home-baked cookie than to have a bag of whatever was on sale making the rounds. But whatever it is should be from you to your group, free of charge.
I say this because a friend of mine has a book group that she wants me to join. I'd kind of like to -- the people are nice, the books under discussion always turn out to be things that I've read about in the reviews and would love to have an excuse to sit down with, and the day they get together isn't too impossible. But they meet at a restaurant and have lunch while they discuss books, and these are people who make a lot more than I do and like to go to really good restaurants. I just can't afford to join, and though I'm not embarrassed about being broke (all the best people are, darling), I don't like to say that the money is an issue because then they might want to take me on as a scholarship student. I don't take charity well, and I'm sure eventually there would be some resentment among those paying my way. So I've passed on this group, which is a shame for them.
In my own group, I offer coffee and tea, baked goods and fresh fruit. (Do make a nice big pot of coffee, especially if you don't have much else homemade. It makes the place smell great, and if you use bottled water, almost any coffee you make will taste wonderful. Splurge for the really good beans if you can, though.) My brownies are always on the table, and then whatever else I feel like making that month, depending on what I have around the kitchen and if, say, I want to get back at the woman who didn't love the last book as much as I did by baking something luscious that I know she's allergic to.
You don't have to do anything really elaborate. Martha Stewart should not be your role model here (or anywhere else, for that matter). If you really don't know how to bake, make muffins. They're fast and easy and cheap and endlessly forgiving. They're almost impossible to eff up even in the hands of a baking moron such as yourself. The secret is not to overmix them before they go into the oven, and keep an eye on them after they do. Get the Williams-Sonoma book of muffin recipes to get yourself off to a good start, borrow my brownie recipe with impunity, and you're set.
7. If you lead the group, let the members chat a bit about non-book issues for a few minutes in the beginning, especially while waiting for late-comers, while still getting to know one another, and while waiting for the coffee to brew. (It's always best to have the rest of the refreshments ready and waiting, but hold off on making the coffee until the last second, so it has less time to get bitter.) Don't let the nattering go on all night, though. It's disappointing to have the book you've been reading and thinking about just sitting there like a bump on a log. Be gentle and humorous, but bring the conversation back on track as frequently as you need to.
8. If you're the leader, or if this is a book and author you've learned a lot about, have some stuff jotted down to talk about. You think you won't forget all the fascinating tidbits and deep insights you've gleaned, but trust me, they'll fly out of your mind as soon as everyone's sitting there looking expectantly at you and you want to say something brilliant and engaging. I always have an outline of major points I want to at least touch on, with quotes and other supporting texts. I do some research about the author of the book in question and have a brief biographical sketch ready -- not just boring dates and places, but good juicy stuff. A lot of the time, the personal is very important to the author's work. (Think about the Brontes' secret fantasy worlds, or Dickens' experiences in the blacking factory.) I give a context to put the book in. Not just when the work was written, but what was going on in the world at the time, especially the author's country. I have enough prepared that if the group has absolutely nothing to say for itself (be prepared for this to happen, especially in the earliest meetings), the rest will not be silence; but I don't sweat it if all my careful notes don't get shared. As long as the book is being discussed, that's what matters.
9. Though I have warned elsewhere against trashing a book for the personal failings of its author, do by all means bring up any dish you can find about the writer in question. It's fun, especially when you get to watch those still naïve enough to author-worship have a stroke when they find out that their favorite pen-pusher was rabidly anti-Semitic (T.S. Eliot), a family values worshiper on the outside and an adulterer on the sly (Dickens), a big fat sexist pig (Tolstoy), a big fat alcoholic commie slut (Dorothy Parker), a child-abuser (Colette), an atheist (Virginia Woolf), deeply religious (Evelyn Waugh), or just plain odd (all of the above plus pretty much every writer you can think of, with the possible exception of Austen and maybe Chekhov). Learning to read an author with pleasure and passion but without illusions is worth the work and occasional pain.
10. Don't let any wallflowers get away with it. Most of them are aching to say something and don't know how to start. I am always shocked at the people who turn out to be genuinely, debilitatingly shy, especially in group situations. Keep a careful eye on the quiet ones, and ask their opinions. Well, ask everyone's opinion -- canvassing the room with a simple "Okay, everybody, one at a time -- did you like the book, and why or why not?" is corny, but a great ice-breaker. Make sure that everyone answers, even if you can only pry a monosyllable out of the shyest. Those who think they can't talk in front of several people may suffer for a moment when you insist they do just that, but they'll be proud of themselves after, and it'll be easier the next time. Don't torture them, but don't let them feel neglected and unwanted, since they're already massively insecure already.
11. Make book night fun. If it isn't, find out why. Figure out what you (and everyone else) can do differently so you can all enjoy yourselves. This isn't supposed to be a chore. Ask what people would really like from the book group, and don't get defensive if their answers aren't what you'd like to hear. Talk to people privately, apart from the group, especially if personality conflicts seem to be cropping up. Do your best to smooth them over. If one person consistently does something that drives everyone else nuts, don't single her out, but don't let her behavior drive away all the more desirable members. Make a general rule against the behavior if it's objectively objectionable (no spitting, no gossip about absent members, whatever); if it's just an annoying personal foible, do your best to give the unbearable one as few opportunities as possible to indulge in her habit, and do your best to be deaf and blind to it when nothing else will work.
12. Repeat as necessary.
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