How Starting a Book Club Turned Into Snacks, Stories, and the Friendships I Didn't Know I Needed
I’ve never had a big circle of friends — but I’ve always had a loyal one.
When it comes to friendship, I’ve always been a quality-over-quantity kind of person. My closest friends — Taylor, Katie, Sheena — are the kind of women I consider sisters. The kind who’ve seen me through the best and worst. The kind I can count on, without question.
Truthfully, that’s enough for me. I love having a small, close-knit crew. But back in 2013, I found myself wanting… more. Not more drama or obligation — just more connection. I wanted more people I could text, hang out with, laugh with. But there was one major hurdle: I had no idea how to actually make friends as a grown adult.
I’m shy, socially awkward, and definitely not the life of the party. Striking up conversations at random? Not my thing. And yet, I couldn’t shake the desire to expand my circle — even just a little.
So I decided to try something new.
How I Started My Book Club
I put out a call on Facebook and asked if anyone was interested in joining a book club. I’d attempted to start one before, but it never really took off. This time, though, something clicked. Several acquaintances and casual friends responded. They added their own friends, and soon we had a group. We held our first meeting in September 2013 at a local restaurant… and nearly 20 people showed up.
I left that meeting feeling both excited and overwhelmed. I mean — who were all these people? And how was I supposed to build real friendships in a crowd that big?
Turns out… I didn’t have to. Within a month or two, the group began to shrink — naturally, quietly. Some people realized it wasn’t for them. Others couldn’t make the schedule work. By the end of the year, we had five regulars, and that smaller group was exactly what I’d been hoping for. It gave us space to actually talk, laugh, and get to know each other. Eventually, we became more than just a book club.
We became friends.
What Book Club Looks Like Now
Over the years, our group has shifted slightly. One member dropped out. A new one joined. A few people popped in for a meeting or two and never came back. That’s totally fine — we’ve always kept things casual and open.
We started as a chapter of the Forever Young Adult book club, following their monthly reading schedule. But eventually, we ditched the structure and went our own way. We even asked to be removed from their official site because we were getting too many join requests, and honestly… our little club doesn’t run like a traditional book club anymore.
Every few months, we toss around ideas and pick books together. We rotate who hosts. Sometimes we go out to dinner and see a movie if one of our picks has been adapted. Most often, we gather in someone’s living room with snacks, drinks, and a healthy dose of laughter. We’re honestly terrible about reading the books these days — but that doesn’t matter. I’ve started jokingly calling us “Snack Club,” and honestly… it fits.
We have a private Facebook group where we coordinate who’s bringing what. We do a Secret Santa swap each year. We try to meet on the last Monday of the month, but real life gets in the way — and that’s okay. We’re flexible. Sometimes we cancel. Sometimes someone can’t make it. But when we do meet, it feels like a breath of fresh air.
What I Gained
This book club has changed my life in quiet, meaningful ways.
Angela — an old friend from my first job — became close again after years apart. Christine, who I’d never met before, became someone I now consider a real friend. Melissa and Toni, who I barely knew in high school, are now part of my regular life.
These women have shown up for me again and again. They’ve offered advice when I vent about work, my dogs, or my kid’s latest meltdown. They’ve invited me to showers and birthday parties. They make me laugh, listen when I need it, and remind me that adult friendships are still possible — even if you’re socially anxious, introverted, or busy with life.
Book club was never just about the books. It was about building something I didn’t think I could: a new kind of belonging. A chosen circle. A reminder that there’s always room for more love and laughter — even if you have to step outside your comfort zone to find it.
So to my book club girls — my friends — thank you.
Thank you for not bailing when Caleb’s whining again. Thank you for accepting me, quirks and all. Thank you for showing me that friendship can grow in unexpected places — over books, snacks, and years of showing up.
Here’s to the first four years — and hopefully, many more.
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