I mean, it was fun. It always is. Of course I was tired, but still. We met at a newish member's bright spacious apartment in Hollywood, we barbecued, and we talked about the book. This month was A Dirty Job, by Christopher Moore, and despite the fact that it was about a guy who collects souls after their owners die, it was pretty light reading. And there was cornbread. Fun, right?
I'm hosting the next round. Is it wrong that I'm more concerned about the menu than about the next book (mind you it's not until October)? (Actually, that's not true. We're reading The Corrections, by Jonathan Franzen, it was my pick, and I'm really excited to read it.)