I (Kate) started a book club right after moving to Boston. I’d graduated from college, was looking for my future, and a book club seemed the right thing to do. I know that I liked that book club, but I really remember only two things about it. One of the members designed an ironic T-shirt that said, “Kate’s Book Club.” A few years into the club, my new brother-in-law—a college student with a good heart and a ton of testosterone—wore the small shirt stretched tightly across his chest. The image has stayed clear in my mind.