My neighborhood book club may keep our local winery in business, but we do a pretty good job on the reading front, too. This fine group of ladies even inspired me to write start a Mother-Daughter Book Club book (too bad, though I started writing eons ago, someone beat me to the finished product). I have several friends who started mother-daughter book clubs in real life, and I'm itching for the day my daughter is old enough for me (or, preferably, one of her friends' mom) to do the same.
What about boys, though? How come they always seem to be left out? I was standing at the starting line of my daughter's school's 5K this weekend, having an awesome conversation with a neighbor's son about Rick Riordan and 13 Reasons Why, which was our (grown-up) selection this month, but which he read and discussed with great insight.
At any rate, this post is really about my husband, who teaches reading at a middle school. Because of "specials" (band, etc.), the school has a one-period, no-credit class called CORE. For next year, the prinicpal decided that CORE should involve a school-wide book club. My husband is on the planning committe and was asking me for book recommendations with curricular tie-ins. He was especially interested in multicultural books and books that dealt with issues of social justice (hello, Yankee Girl). Because students rotate through the class, his school is thinking of buying kindles to increase interest and make it feel "cool" and different. I'm putting this out there to the whole teaching community and piggybacking on Mary Ann's fabulous Summer Reading post. What else would you do to make this experience a memorable one for the kids?
Fostering group reading obviously brings a whole new dimension to a process that is typically thought of as a solitary experience. As we look at social networking and sites like shelfari, interactive texts like the Amanda Project and yes, good old-fashioned book clubs... reading is more than what happens under the covers with a flashlight after bedtime.
The other night, I lay in bed beside my daughter, each of us reading a book -- hers, Marvin Redpost (thank you, Louis Sachar!) was the first book she ever decided she couldn't put down. Deeply moved by the parallel experience, I said to her, "I love you so much. Can you stay this age forever?" She said, "No. But I'll love you this much when I'm seventeen. Maybe more."
Isn't writing for kids the best?