How I Accidentally Joined the Best Book Club of My Life

I’ve never really considered myself a book club person. I’ve been an avid reader my entire life—I read fast, and like most readers, I have my favorite genres. The idea of being assigned a book I might not be interested in, and then having to meet up with others to sit around and talk about it, didn’t exactly sound compelling.

Giving It a Shot—And Loving It

But when my oldest daughter started a book club and asked me to join, I gave it a shot. At the very least, it was a good excuse to see her once a month—even if only via Zoom.

The club, called Virago, is hosted on Goodreads and open to anyone. Each month, a different member can choose to be the moderator. That person recommends a selection of books, and the group votes on which one to read. We alternate between fiction and nonfiction to keep things fresh and avoid getting stuck in a single genre. Best of all, there’s no pressure—if you don’t want to read that month’s pick, that’s okay.

We meet at the end of each month to discuss the book. Most of our meetings happen over Zoom, though occasional in-person get-togethers exist. Since I don’t live in the same state as my daughter—or most of the group—I’m one of a few Zoom-only members.

To my surprise, I immediately enjoyed it. We’ve read some incredible books. I haven’t loved all of them—especially a few of the nonfiction picks—but I’ve read most, and many have broadened my horizons. A few nonfiction reads even turned out to be favorites, which shocked me. What I’ve come to love most is the camaraderie and the rich conversations. Everyone brings a different perspective, and that makes the discussions fascinating.

A Lifetime of Stories Together

Recently, as I started this month’s nonfiction book—which wasn’t my vote, by the way—I found myself wondering why I enjoy this book club so much. That thought sent me down memory lane, back to the many books I’ve read throughout my life, especially the years spent raising my daughters.

I started reading to my oldest daughter as soon as she was born. Of course, she couldn’t understand the stories yet, but she could hear my voice and the soothing rhythm of those early baby books. It became a nightly ritual.

As she grew, so did the books. First came the hardboard books, perfect for little hands eager to turn pages. Then came pointing, babbling, and eventually reciting her favorite parts. Before long, she was choosing the books herself.

When her younger sister was born five years later, she was already reading independently. She often joined me as I read to the baby and sometimes took over as the reader. We all had fun with it—doing voices, adding dramatic flair, and making the characters come alive. Books—or "stories," as we called them—were a huge part of our daily lives.

As my oldest grew, she never stopped reading. She started developing opinions about books, checking them out at school, and coming home eager to share. Sometimes she’d ask if I had read the same book and what I thought. Other times, she’d just launch into telling me about the story. The conversations were endless.

From The Giver to Harry Potter—And Beyond

One day, she came home with an assigned reading book and told me, “You have to read this.” She didn’t want to give anything away; she just promised I’d love it and that she couldn’t wait to talk about it. So I checked it out from the library and read it.

The book was The Giver, by Lois Lowry. I highly recommend it if you’ve never read it—regardless of your age. It’s now considered a classic, and for good reason. Its dystopian themes are deep, thoughtful, and haunting.

When I finished, she was practically bouncing, ready to sit down and talk. We dove into our reactions, thoughts on the characters, and questions raised by the story. We kept talking about it for days.

As the years went by, this pattern continued. She’d read something extraordinary and pass it along to me. We still remember the Harry Potter years fondly—midnight bookstore release parties, her racing through the new book, then it was my turn to read. I’d barely make it halfway through before she’d start asking, “Where are you? Are you almost done? Hurry up—I need to talk to you about it!”

And now, as adults, we’re still doing that—through her Virago book club and all the other books we read and recommend to each other outside of it. We still share, discuss, and connect through stories.

The Book Club That Was Always There

I used to think I joined my first book club as an adult, but looking back, I realize I’ve been in one all along. From the moment I began reading to my daughter, we formed a mother-daughter book club, turning pages together, asking questions, and letting stories shape the way we saw the world.

I’ve been in the best book club for most of my life, and I’m so happy it’s still with her.

- J.S. Whaldo