Trying Too Hard

Another sad tale from experience

When my own lovely book group was just getting together -- call it the birth-pangs stage -- I kept fussing with the day it would fall on.  Everyone was being as eminently flexible as they could be, and no one had too too demanding a schedule, but it just seemed as if there was something wrong with every damned night of the week.  (We at least had that much down; since all of us were at-home mothers who homeschooled our children, it had to be an evening.  Otherwise it would just be prohibitively difficult to get away from our adoring little leeches.)

Anyway, I must have shifted things around half a dozen times, really testing the patience and loyalty of the people who were trying to spend their limited time and energy focusing on the book already, before I realized what an idiot I was being.  Two women I kept moving heaven and earth to accommodate turned out to be the most enthusiastic members in theory and the ones who never ended up actually reading the book or making it to meetings, no matter how "good" the date supposedly was for them.  I finally gave up and let the chips fall where they would.  I figured out what a good day was for the people who really wanted to come and had proved that given even half a chance they'd show up.  Everybody else has had to fend for themselves.  They're big girls.  They'll survive.

This goes for the selection of the month's title, too.  Don't try to pick something that will wow absolutely everyone.  Go by majority rule -- and not too big a majority, either -- rather than insisting on anything like unanimity.  I know that sounds evil and dictatorial and everything that's wrong with our country these days, but it's really for the best, as I've learned from experience, and for reasons I wouldn't have expected.

First, if you insist on everyone approving the title, you will end up with one of the following:  something everyone's already read; something off the best-seller list; something lame; or all of the above, especially the latter.  I remember discussing this issue with a really wonderful children's librarian who was once on a committee to decide which books received a certain award.  The best books pretty much went by the wayside, because really good work is usually also very original, and originality can be off-putting.  Everyone on the committee had some objection or other to the really outstanding works.  (Think about it:  Harriet the Spy is still one of the best, and best-known, and best-selling children's novels out there, and it never got the Newbury Award.)  So the book that won would end up being not the best book, but the most unobjectionable.  That's what you end up with when you try to make everyone happy -- something that won't make anyone unhappy.  In other words, pap.  Boring crowd-pleasing junk.  Life will throw enough of that at you; don't volunteer for it.

Second, even if there were any chance at all of finding a truly wonderful read that everyone enthusiastically agreed to, it would take years, and you don't have that kind of time.

Third, there is nothing wrong, and often something very right, with some members of the group not liking what's on the menu this month.  Maybe they'll give it the old college try and be surprised at how much they actually like the book.  And this might be the only way they'll ever have the chance to learn that, since they've admitted that it's a book they wouldn't have picked up of their own accord.  Maybe they'll at least learn something, especially if you do what we do and stick with the classics.  Or maybe they won't like it at all, and they'll have some wonderfully cutting things to say about it.  Nothing sparks a good, go-for-the-throat book conversation like a loather versus a lover.  The haters often have valid points to make, and may shine some light on points or problems that the adorers were willing to gloss over or had just never noticed.  Just make sure that the comments stay constructive, or at least very short.  "This book sucks" had better be either the end of the speaker's commentary or a prelude to a good, detailed explanation as to why.

(None of this is to be construed as meaning that I should ever, ever have to read anything by Steinbeck, even if every single member of our group wants to.  They can start a Steinbeck fan club if they feel that damned strongly about the dude.  I'm not going there.  We all have our limits.)

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