On Sunday, I took a break from being a dad to spend a couple of hours at the apartment of a woman who read my debut novel and reached out to me on Instagram. She invited me to attend an in-person meeting of her book club in Miami. It’s a modest club of a dozen women who have long been friends, and who have met religiously, every six weeks, for more than 20 years, to discuss books. All of these women just so happen to be about the same age as my mother, and have children who are about my age.
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