There is something inherently cliche and cinematic about the mom’s books club in which the women of the cul de sac gather to chat briefly about a book focusing on the more sensual scenes while consuming copious amounts of wine. While this might be a trope and sometimes ring true, I think more focus ought to be placed on the novels that become classics among hordes of housewives entrusting their literary lists to the all-powerful Oprah. This past summer while recovering from the strain of spring semester I searched for an escape into fictive worlds that would not only entertain but help me keep my reading pace quick for the approaching semester. After consulting peers, relatives, librarians, and the internet I began a quest to read as many of the trending books from the past couple of years that were marketed in a particular way.
March 13, 2020. My last day of in person learning as a high-school student. After this date much of the world retreated into homes, into puzzles, into the spaces of the web where trends reside, into the dark corners of isolation. In searching for silver linings to the seemingly relentless onslaught of bad news I discovered how ideal, if ever a statement could be made, the timing was for a pandemic. The snow had begun to melt away and reveal a vibrant spring that shouted at those glued to Netflix that there was an alternative, a safe way to feel human. I believe we all found solace in the brief moments outside catching our breath and being reminded that there is normalcy, for the birds are still singing and the sun is still setting ever so peacefully over the Earth.