One of my most treasured memories of elementary school started, as so many good stories do, with a knock at the door.
This particular knock announced the arrival of a boxed set of history books my mother had ordered in an attempt to get me excited about school. This luxury was itself a big deal — new books, in a beautiful case, filled with words no one had ever read before. What made it even more exciting was that afternoon, one of my friends was over, both of us lounging around until it was time for our afterschool club.
She looked at me, and I looked at her, and both of us grinned. There was no need for words. All of our previous afternoon plans, which included gallivanting around the backyard and pretending we were witches making potions, were summarily scrapped, and we each grabbed a book and settled in.
We spent the rest of that golden afternoon slumped on the couch, flipping our way through the brightly colored books, reading about English history. Every so often, we’d read aloud a particularly good fun fact or gasp and narrate an especially gruesome passage (it was English history, so there were quite a few).
That afternoon, I didn’t feel any pressure to perform, or talk, or even interact with my friend. Instead, we spent our time in our own little worlds, occasionally peeking out of our castles in the air to tap the other one on the shoulder. And isn’t that what real friendship is like? Wanting to talk to them even when you’re wrapped up in your own journey?
As I grew up, though, co- silent reading became a guilty pleasure. The world is built for loud networking events, constant socialization and conversation. The template of friendship that we’re meant to internalize is built on the kinds of interaction we’re used to seeing in the media and TV shows; shared hobbies, constant interaction, and generally exhausting behavior (at least for me).
But what if that’s just not how we all work?
The Introvert Revolution
Over the years, I got better at being an extrovert in certain situations; I can carry a conversation with the best of them, and my social battery has a much longer shelf life now. But my most treasured friendships are still ones that are essentially spent in silence.
My roommates and I can spend hours reading our own books and doing our own thing in companionable silence, comforted by being in the same space without feeling the pressure to make conversation. I’ve found that silent reading time spent together actually fulfills me instead of tiring me out; I feel tacitly supported without the burden of socializing. If you also desire a living situation that supports this kind of low-pressure companionship, sites like SpareRoom make it easier to find roommates whose lifestyles and energy match yours from the start.
It was incredibly gratifying to find out that I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. In 2012, Susan Cain’s book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking rocked my world. She was the first person I had ever heard voice the idea that introversion, the thing I had fought against for most of my life, might be more of a superpower than an obstacle.
Silent Book Clubs
The idea that introversion could be something that people worked with, rather than around, was big. It was that idea that animated Guinevere de la Mare and Laura Gluhanich to start reading in silence at their neighborhood bar, together.
That idea grew into the Silent Book Club, a global community of readers who get together just to pull out their own books and read quietly in the same space. Rather than the common pressures of finishing a book and trying to present your thoughts in an intelligent way to a group of people, Silent Book Clubs accept you, wherever you’re at.
Anyone can launch their own chapter of the Silent Book Club, and at last count, there were over 1,700 chapters in over 50 countries around the world. Clearly, I’m not the only one in love with the idea.
Silent reading time with a friend is sometimes the only way I can be around people without literally melting down — I want the comforting presence of one of my favorite people, but I’m simply too tired to muster up anything more than that. Thankfully, I have a beloved group of people who understand that about me and are more than willing to sit next to me on the couch, laughing whenever I read a particularly funny joke out loud, and just being there when I grow silent.
An informal silent book club, or silent reading time, is also a way to show up for friends and get to know them better, too. How else do you find out that your favorite coworker loves the same YA novels as you, or that your friend from down the hall is an endless source of nonfiction recommendations?
So the next time you feel tired, or bored, or just plain lazy, grab a friend (or two, or three!) and a sunny spot, and crack open a book. The words might just sound better if someone else is around to read them with you.
Want to read more about Silent Book Clubs? Click here.
Find your next book to read with your bestie here.
