I don’t know if I have ever been a part of a cooler group than my sci-fi book club. Three hours of some of the most fascinating people having some of the most fascinating discussions ever. Only sometimes about literature. Other subjects of discussion include music, anthropology, who has the best small world story, apocalypse plans, faraway travels, April Fools jokes, and just about any other topic imaginable.
Sometimes I think we would be the perfect cast of a slightly weird sitcom. We’re all so different and somehow when we get together we form this perfect multi-perspective dynamic. Plus there’s really good food. And great books. Like this one:
I loved this book before I even started reading it, only because of how gorgeous and mysterious the cover is. It just got better from there.
For some reason being part of a sci-fi book club gets you a lot more stares than, say, a chick lit book club, and I’m not exactly sure why. Unless they know it’s more awesome, and they’re jealous. I mean, we’re The Mental Crenellations*, who wouldn’t be jealous?