Monthly Archives: June 2021

Dispatches from a silent book club outpost in the Far Eastern Reaches of Toronto

Our latest silent book club meeting report is introduced by the easternmost member of our east end Toronto group – Kathryn Eastman of Pontypridd, Wales. Moving “in real life” gatherings online has been challenging and fraught, whether for business, personal or pleasure – but it has not been without its wonderful opportunities. We’ve discovered that we can fling the doors of our gatherings wide open to welcome guests from, well, anywhere. That’s how we and many silent book club groups have enjoyed the connections with and insights from readers far outside our physical neighbourhoods.

Because we connected first with dear Kath via her vibrant and book voracious presence online, it’s perhaps apropos to riff off her Twitter bio to present her here. She’s a … Writer. Book Squirrel. Bookblogger. Tea drinker. Chocoholic. Rugby fan. Collects Pontypool RFC supporters’ stories. Nuts about squirrels h/t @squizzey. You can learn more about Kath and Squizzey, her bookish partner in crime, and relish her book previews and reviews via Nut Press.

Kathryn Eastman, silent book club member from Far Eastern Reaches of Toronto (aka Wales)

Kathryn Eastman, silent book club member from Far Eastern Reaches of Toronto (aka Wales)

When Bookgaga (as I then knew her) invited me to join a silent book club meeting back in November 2020, I confess I had little idea what one was. I mean, I knew what a book club was, and I’d seen photos from the socially-distanced meetings held in Toronto’s Stephenson Park but the silent aspect of it? Not so much. How did that work, I wondered, and why silent?

Was Silent Book Club founded by librarians (frustrated or real, aspirational or retired) who delight in shushing its members, while spending time reorganising their book stacks? Did members play suitably muted games of charades for everyone to guess what they were reading each month? Or was this a cover, no doubt gloriously embossed with gold foil and beautiful endpapers, for some strange bookish cult? And, even if it was, how odd could that be, given it involved books?! “Count me in,” I told her. “I’d love to come along.” And shortly afterwards, I received my invitation complete with secret codes and unique password. (If you read more non-fiction than I do, you might call this a Zoom meeting invite.)

Five minutes before the meeting started, I had a fleeting moment of panic, thinking, ‘What are you doing? You’re about to go into an online meeting with complete and utter strangers, apart from Bookgaga, who you ONLY know through Twitter, by the way. What if she’s late or doesn’t show up? How awkward is this going to be?’ But before I had time to gather any momentum from chanting “They’re book people, book people are good people,” I was in. I’d zoomed across the Atlantic Ocean to the East End of Toronto from my hillside home here in South Wales and landed in my first silent book club. All while being in lockdown with a global pandemic raging around us.

I’m not sure if the first rule of silent book club is not to talk about what goes on in silent book club but, given covid travel restrictions and the miles between us, what the heck, I’ll share this little nugget with you: silent book club meetings are not as silent as I initially thought. Gently nudged by Jo, who expertly facilitates the meetings together with Vicki (aka Bookgaga on Twitter), everyone shares what they’ve been reading since the last time they met. We have about 3 or 4 minutes each, and are on mute until we’re up. And here’s your little moment of zen … There’s no pressure to do that. You can simply log on and listen while everyone else shares, if that’s what you want to do.

Silent book club is as calm and relaxed as anything because you don’t have a set book to read before each meeting (as with other book groups), so you choose what to read and report back on. Canny members refer to a book list, while others have notes jotted down about their reading choices. I really need to start doing this because I get about as excited as a new puppy when I see everyone and (enthusiastically but probably pretty incoherently) babble on about the books I’ve read when it’s my turn. Speaking of pups, pets are warmly welcomed whenever they join meetings, whether they’re on time and there from the start, drop in or out, or crash them part-way through.

Once the meeting’s over – and here’s what makes it a silent book club – everyone’s invited to spend an hour reading. And I love this: the idea that I’m curled up on my sofa, reading the book I was just talking about, while the others are all settling down with theirs and doing the same over in Toronto warms my bookish heart. Reading is usually such a solitary occupation, how wonderful to know that you’re in good company instead? In pre-Covid times, I think the club met up in a coffee shop and would stay on to read there, or head over to Stephenson Park for an open-air session. As the Canadian Autumn (or do you say Fall?) turned into Winter, it was photos of those hardy souls meeting up OUTSIDE to share their love of books and reading that first captured my admiration.

Happily, the Saturday meetings niftily side-stepped any clashes with Wales rugby matches (crucial to securing my attendance at anything during International seasons) and being a night owl means that I am (usually – sorry about missing the last one, folks!) wide awake for the mid-week meetings scheduled for 7pm Toronto time which is midnight here in Wales.

Since that first meeting back in November, I’ve joined as many of the group’s meetings as I can while they continue to be held online. And, for the first time since the pandemic began, I’ve found myself wishing for lockdown restrictions to last a little longer, so that we can have the next meeting. And maybe the one after that …?

I have loved every single minute of my initiation into silent book clubs. It’s been fascinating to meet an entirely new group of people and get to know them through their books: the way they talk about the ones they’re reading; what they choose to start, finish, abandon or avoid; as well as how they find their way to this author or why they’re interested in reading about that particular subject matter, geographical area or time period. They’ve introduced me to new authors and fiction, particularly Indigenous authors and their work, and made me even more aware of what a wealth of reading there is out there, riches simply waiting for us to discover and mine.

Bookgaga and I joke that the East end Toronto silent book club extended beyond its borders to incorporate Wales, and have even dubbed it the Far Eastern Reaches in our emails. Thanks to the internet, a global pandemic forcing events and meetings online (one of the few positives to come out of this), as well as the wonderful woman who sent that first serendipitous invite, it really feels as if it has. I’m so grateful for the warmth, wit and enthusiasm with which I’ve been welcomed and to be a part of this friendly and relaxed book club means so much to me, in what’s been a tough year for all of us.

At some point, Bookgaga (the Twitter handle by which I knew her) became Vicki, and we went from being Twitter follows to bookish friends. This phenomenon is also manifesting itself among other silent book club members and I couldn’t be happier about that. I love the way in which books bring us together, whether we’re thousands of miles apart, separated by oceans, or living just a couple of city blocks away. They help us to travel, experience lives different from our own, meet new people and make friends, even with all the limitations imposed by a global pandemic. It’s where the true magic lies in joining a book club, silent or otherwise. Call it bookish alchemy, if you will.

Thank you to Vicki, Jo, and everyone at East end Toronto silent book club for sharing that with me.

Kath's books

Jess' books

Lyla's books

Vicki's books, plus Vicki on screen

As always, the books we share comprise a veritable cornucopia of subjects, formats, genres, styles and so much more. The titles featured in each of our reports combine print and digital versions of books, along with audiobooks (which are indicated separately, with narrator/performer information where possible).

Appleblossom the Possum by Holly Goldberg Sloan, illustrated by Gary Rosen

During a recent silent book club virtual gathering, our group moderator Jo, who was zooming in from her backyard, was paid a visit by a curious possum. (They aren’t as ubiquitous as raccoons in this east end Toronto neighbourhood, but there have been more and more sightings of these somewhat scary-looking but very gentle creatures in recent years.) That visit has inspired our first list, courtesy of Awesome Possum, of non-human reading recommendations. Humans and non-humans alike are invited to explore and enjoy …

* Awesome Possum refused to recommend, must less even read this title.

As always, we invite our fellow readers to boost their reading with fodder from our previous silent book club meeting reports (online and in-person incarnations) and book lists – find them all here. Perhaps you’ll come across the unexpected!

You can also check out links to articles, interviews and more here – some with San Francisco-based Silent Book Club founders Guinevere de La Mare and Laura Gluhanich, and some with us here in east end Toronto.

Learn more about silent book clubs via Guinevere and Laura’s Silent Book Club web site. You can find information on meetings happening around the world and close to where you live. Some clubs are currently on haitus, but many are running virtual meetings in different formats. Please feel free to contact me for more information about our club and its offerings.

Stay safe, stay well, stay hopeful … and, of course, immerse yourself in good reading as we all stay the course.

Welcoming the unexpected at silent book club

The mark of an accomplished meeting facilitator is how they handle with aplomb the arrival of unexpected attendees. Full marks to our east end Toronto silent book club co-founder and zoom maven Jo, who was taking advantage of warmer weather hereabouts and running our latest zoom meeting while ensconced under a tree in her backyard … and who didn’t miss a beat when a possum arrived unannounced.

Possum in Jo's backyard

Possum in Jo’s backyard – Photo by Jo Nelson

Sadly, the possum departed without reporting on its latest reading, so we’ll never know if it leans towards fiction or non-fiction, or would be open to a bit of poetry. But happily, we’re left with further proof of a few things, including:

  • There’s always room for one more whenever we gather.
  • Ours is a group – like many of our peer silent book club groups around the world – that relishes the surprising and unexpected, in our reading and in our meetings.

Vicki's books, getting ready for the zoom call

Perhaps you’ll encounter the enticingly unexpected with our combined reading lists. As always, the books we share run the gamut of subjects, formats, genres, styles and much more. The titles featured in each of our reports combine print and digital versions of books, along with audiobooks (which are indicated separately, with narrator/performer information where possible).

More book-related articles, resources, news, recommendations and more were offered by our members and/or came up during this meeting’s discussions and chat, including:

As always, we invite our fellow readers to boost their reading with fodder from our previous silent book club meeting reports (online and in-person incarnations) and book lists – find them all here. Perhaps you’ll come across the unexpected!

You can also check out links to articles, interviews and more here – some with San Francisco-based Silent Book Club founders Guinevere de La Mare and Laura Gluhanich, and some with us here in east end Toronto.

Learn more about silent book clubs via Guinevere and Laura’s Silent Book Club web site. You can find information on meetings happening around the world and close to where you live. Some clubs are currently on haitus, but many are running virtual meetings in different formats. Please feel free to contact me for more information about our club and its offerings.

Stay safe, stay well, stay hopeful … and, of course, do your best to keep reading!

More great additions to our young adult (YA) reading – the third of a series of review round-ups

Toronto silent book club member Sundus Butt returns again with another rich and varied installment in an ongoing series of mini-reviews and previews of young adult (YA) titles and recommendations. Enjoy all the YA installments here.

May 2021 young adult (YA) book selections

Measuring Up by Lily LaMotte, illustrated by Ann Xu (8–12)

[…] Cici, you are always ready to learn and …
… part of me will go with you.

Twelve-year-old Cici has just moved to Seattle from Taiwan and is finding it hard to fit in. She also desperately misses her grandmother, A-má, who is about to turn 70. Cici decides to enter a cooking contest in the hopes of winning some money that can help A-má visit so they can celebrate her special birthday together.

This graphic novel is a simple and gentle story that touches on a lot of different issues. The immigrant experience, microaggressions (such as Cici being referred to as Chinese or Thai when she is Taiwanese), familial pressures, acceptance, and finding your place are all explored, and the cooking contest was an interesting and fun element to help deliver the story.

Punching the Air by Ibi Zoboi and Yusef Salaam (14+)

Dead to the world
but somewhere in our souls
we are both scratching at the walls
yelling to the sky
punching the air
to let everyone and everything know
that we are in here
still alive

Written in verse, this book follows Amal Shahid, a Black Muslim boy who’s wrongly incarcerated.

Yusef Salaam is one of the exonerated Central Park Five, and though Amal is not a direct representation of him, Salaam’s experiences give the book insight that makes it feel that much more concrete. Combined with Zoboi’s lyrical writing, you feel the injustice of how Amal is made a “man,” not a “boy,” and how his humanity is stripped away so he’s a “monster” and it’s easier to convict him. This story is a short, but powerful read about how the colour of your skin often determines the justice you receive, and how Amal deals with life in prison.

The War That Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley (9–12)

I slipped my hand into hers. A strange and unfamiliar feeling ran through me. It felt like the ocean, like sunlight, like horses. Like love. I searched my mind and found the name for it. Joy.

Ada has never left her family’s one-room apartment. Born with a clubfoot, Ada’s mother treats her horrifically and forces her to stay inside so no one can see her “ugly foot.” But when World War II breaks out and Ada’s little brother Jamie is sent away from London, Ada takes her chance to escape and joins him. In the country, they are taken in (unwillingly) by Susan Smith. These vastly different people thrown together challenge and learn from each other as they try to adapt to their new life.

This book is skillfully put together. The pacing of the story and character development make the story arc believable. There is a hard edge to what Ada experiences externally and internally, and even the characters you root for are flawed at times. The story covers a variety of issues, but it presents a clear case for how a life can change when given love and support.

The Okay Witch written and illustrated by Emma Steinkellner (8–12)

“See, Mother? This! This is the human world. Fun and free and full of life. This is the world my daughter and I love.”
“It is frightfully ordinary. And loud. And vulgar. Yes these salt blossoms are sublime.”
“It’s called ‘popcorn.’ And yes, popcorn is one of the amazing things we have […].”

Moth Hush has always been different, but she realizes how different when she discovers she’s a half-witch. Chaos ensues as Moth tries to navigate her new powers, her mom’s aversion to magic (even though she’s a witch, too), an age-old feud with witch-hunters, and how she fits into the world.

This story is really fun and lively, and that’s largely due to the enjoyable characters. Combined with fantastic artwork, this is a good coming-of-age story.

Dear Martin by Nic Stone (14+)

“You can’t change how other people think and act, but you’re in full control of you. When it comes down to it, the only question that matters is this: If nothing in the world ever changes, what type of man are you gonna be?”

Justyce McAllister is a good kid all set for the Ivy League; but when he’s wrongly handcuffed, he’s rattled by how easily being Black can negatively override everything else about him. Justyce begins a journal, writing to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in the hopes that he can follow his teachings and find some answers.

There is a lot packed into this short book. It provides a brief, but wide look at the complex emotions a young Black man feels when he encounters injustice after injustice. The protagonist also feels the temptation of becoming what people expect of him because why resist a stereotype when that’s all people will ever see? You really feel for Justyce and share his frustration with events throughout the story. And although there are some unaddressed issues in the book (such as misogyny), it is a short and impactful read.

A Drop of Hope by Keith Calabrese (9–12)

Because Ryan realized that for every wish he knew about, there must have been dozens that he didn’t. Maybe that was the point, in the end. You can’t fix the world. But you do your best in your own little corner of it.
And you hope.

An old wishing well has been rediscovered in Cliffs Donnelly, Ohio, a small town down on its luck. But as students from the local school start to make wishes, remarkably, they come true by the inadvertent actions of three unlikely friends. Events start to snowball and lead to even bigger consequences for the town as a whole.

The characters in this book are endearing, and they are the heart of this story about small kindnesses. Told through multiple perspectives, you discover there’s more to each character than everyone realizes as they try to protect and care for each other. This is a warm and lovely read that lives up to its title.