A while back, my friends and I started a book club. We meet roughly every other month and have for the last say year and a half. Normally it’s just two hours for us to sit down, drink wine, and hang out, and that’s awesome. In the meetings we’ve held so far, only once have we all actually read the book and that was Big Little Lies (side note, that made for a super fun meeting. We talked about the book for a full three hours and my poor boyfriend sat across the room playing video games while we all piled on just “men are the worst” I love him so much).
Which in a roundabout way brings me to Wild. There was some resistance when it was suggested at it’s being too book club-y but this person hadn’t gotten to pick one yet and let’s be real, Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows was SUPER book club-y too and we loved it. Wild was a short read, it flowed nicely, and I enjoyed it as I sat in the sun on a hot day with a cold bottle of water.
I haven’t talked about the book itself, though, because on my own I don’t know if I have a lot to say. With some prompting and in discussion I can see it being great but as I sit down to type I’m coming up empty. Even while I was reading it, I thought more about it’s use in the Gilmore Girls revival than I did about the story I was being told. It’s an interesting read, and not a half bad way to kill time, though.
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