Letter 149: On the Page
When we start book clubs!
I just love today’s letter so much. It perfectly encapsulates my dear friend (and previous co-editor of this newsletter!), Emily. Her heart for teaching, her love of literature, her pure joyful nature and her desire to share all this goodness with others are woven throughout her entire piece. Emily’s letter will make you wish you lived in Fort Worth and visited her very own shop around the corner. IYKYK —Molly
Books and Bottles, my new(-ish) wine + book pairing book club, began as a simple idea. I missed the kinds of conversations I used to have when I was teaching—when a student would point out something in a text I’d never noticed, or when a discussion took a turn into something deeper, more vulnerable. There’s a particular intimacy that only books allow: not small talk, but the kind of talk where someone suddenly shares what they love, what they fear, what they’ve been through—because something on the page reminded them.
I also really enjoy wine. Not in a collector’s or connoisseur’s way, but in the way it invites you to slow down, taste, and share something real. Natural wine, especially, speaks to me. It’s alive and often a little wild. It tells a story of a place, a process, and even a person’s choices. Like a book, it asks you to pay attention.
As I thought about starting a book club, a wine and book pairing was an idea I just couldn’t ignore. So I pitched the idea of a monthly gathering at The Holly, a natural wine shop in Fort Worth, and thankfully, the owner, Liz, thought it would be a great idea! And Books and Bottles was born: we would read a book and drink a wine that we’ve paired with it. The setting is beautiful and unpretentious. Some people finish the book, others come just to listen and sip. There’s no shame in showing up halfway through the novel; the point is to be present and enjoy each other’s company.
The pairings aren’t just thematic, they’re emotional. Liz and I read with an ear for tone, structure, and feeling. Then we look for wines that speak that same language. A crisp, nervy white might echo a book’s sharp, fragmented voice. A moody red might mirror themes of desire or loss. Sometimes Liz will pair based on the winemaker—their process, their identity, their relationship to the land. If the book wrestles with (for example) queerness, I might find a wine made by someone doing the same. (We paired Miranda July’s last novel All Fours with a crisp and flirty orange from Emme Colombard, a queer California winemaker, aptly named “tell your sister I said ‘hi’”. hehe) In the case of Percival Everett’s James, a retelling of Huck Finn, our pairing was a Bordeaux from a winemaker whose family has been farming their grandparents’ vines since the 1800s.
The point isn’t to match the wine and book perfectly; rather, it’s to open up the connections that exist between text and taste, author and maker, reader and moment.
And it works.
Our conversations always begin with the pairing and the book, but it never stays there. We end up talking about ambition, sex, grief, power, loneliness, the things we carry. Someone might read a line that wrecked them. Someone else might describe the wine as “feral” or “like biting a tomato while crying.” We follow where it leads.
We’re not here to get it right. We’re here to think, feel, and be together.
What makes Books and Bottles different is that it doesn’t ask you to be an expert (in books or in wine). We just ask that you show up with curiosity and care. We’re not here to get it right. We’re here to think, feel, and be together.
The books are often experimental and a little strange in the best ways. The wines, too, can be unexpected. They’re farmed with integrity and minimal intervention. Sometimes they’re cloudy. Sometimes they’re bright and clean. Like a great story, they resist easy classification. They’re alive.
Over the last several months, we’ve talked about queerness, race, motherhood, shame, girlhood, artistic ambition, the weirdness of aging, the ache of nostalgia. We’ve read passages aloud. We’ve conversed with strangers and friends. We’ve disagreed. We’ve laughed a lot. We’ve stayed too long.
And that’s what I love most. Books and Bottles is never exactly the same twice. It’s a little literary, a little loose, always anchored in a desire to connect through ideas, flavors, and feeling.
One doesn’t have to be well-read or wine-savvy to belong here. You just have to want to talk about what matters—with a book in your hand, a glass of wine nearby, and a little bit of time carved out to sit still and listen.
Emily’s 5 Favorite Things
Gabriel Dawe’s Plexus no. 34 installation in the Amon Carter Museum of American Art in Fort Worth, Texas. This is my favorite artwork in Fort Worth, and it just so happens to be installed at my workplace! I get to walk under this gorgeous threaded prism every day. I cry.
Lysol Laundry Sanitizer. Yes, for real. We were hit hard this past winter with illness: walking pneumonia, Flu A, and countless sinus infections. With a little one at school every day, and since I work with children, I beefed up more than just our medicine cabinet! You just add this concoction to the fabric softener drawer in the washing machine and *poof* your clothes are sanitized from viruses that cause flu, strep, pneumonia, and more. Praise be.
Silkie chickens. We are crazy and have adopted two Silkie chicks. And they are weird, silly, and ADORABLE. Right now, they are named Elsa and Anna, but when a four-year-old is in charge of names, I’ve learned to accept change as the only constant. Hoping to get some eggs out of this arrangement someday, but that would be a bonus at this point!
The Pitt on Max. Obsessed with the show and (maybe moreso?) Noah Wyle. Chris and I binged The Pitt in a week, pacing ourselves because it’s just so good and so intense. It’s a medical drama, but set up so that each episode is an hour of one shift.
PBS. PBS Kids, PBS Passport, PBS in general. I am appalled at 47’s outrageous executive order to cut its funding. So let’s throw our support behind it in any way we can as they appeal. My book club @_books_and_bottles_ read Anthony Horowitz’s Magpie Murders in June, so I’ll be re-reading and re-watching the PBS Masterpiece adaptation alongside. Both are great!
In gratitude,
Emily
P.S. Don’t sleep on a few of Emily’s past, great letters. She has the best voice: On her winding career path (Letter 86) and learnings from friendships (Letter 32).
Okay I LOVED this!
I recently started a book club with some of my local Indiana gals focused on reading classics--it's been such a delight to encourage friends that great books are more accessible than they thought and to talk about what is good, true, and beautiful in so many old works. Our first discussion was on Anne of Green Gables last week :)
This sounds like so much fun. Love the idea of selecting the wine to pair with the book. I want to be a part of that committee!