When Mary Ellen held up her suggestion for the book club’s next read, Janet ruled her eyes. Not another vampire story. How many of those books were there?
Every other month, she was forced to choke down another woeful (and poorly written) tale about a tormented vampire caught in the familiar throes of a Shakespeare romance. Cotton candy drama, Janet called it because a majority of the women in her group ate this stuff up with child-like delight. But when she tried to recommend the great-great-great grandfather of vampire tales – Bram Stoker’s Dracula – they all gagged as though she was serving them a platter of broccoli.
“We were supposed to read that in high school,” Mary Ellen shuddered. I tried to read the first page and was bored to tears. Literally, girls, I cried from boredom!”
Janet wondered if Mary Ellen could even read the first page, but she bit her tongue before the question could escape her lips. Janet blamed her husband for this inept group. If he hadn’t accepted the promotion which forced them to relocate to Midwest Suburbia, she’d be curled on a sofa in a New York City cafe and chatting with her best friends about Neil Gaiman’s latest book. Now she was surrounded by unhappy housewives, who self-medicated their droll lives with vampires and fifty shades of gray.
Why did this have to be the only book club in town? She posted ads, even begged the town librarian for a list of patrons who might want to form a new club. Every name the librarian offered was a member of this club – and some of the first women to jump up and down excitedly when a new vampire book was produced from a knock-off purse and offered to the group like free Mary Kay samples. The only new club they were keen on starting was a Team Edward Club.
Janet truly believed she had hit the rock bottom of life, and if she wasn’t so starved for social encounters and human interactions, she would have tried to claw her way from the club to escape their brainless drivel. In a town of no culture, to keep from falling six feet under, she stayed to feed upon the vapid chatter of its underwhelming book club….