‘Hares my Heart’ 
Illustration by Sarah Reilly
Friday, 13 February 2026
The Secret History of Book Clubs No One Talks About
From Anne Hutchinson’s banishment to the Blue Stockings Society, explore how book clubs evolved from dangerous gatherings into a global literary movement.
Book clubs really did become a thing, but not many people stop to think about their origin. Friends gather in a living room or a cozy cafe, discussing their current reads or favorite books. The conversation starts with the plot, and before participants know it, they are diving into personal philosophies and finding out shared experiences.
Everyone enjoys the moment, laughing, and wishing the evening could continue for longer, because books and the discussions around them are a good break away from the busy modern world.
Now, while book clubs are ways in which modern people socialize and take breaks from work, it’s important to remember what led to the rise of book clubs. This isn’t to say there’s been a major shift in the spirit of book clubs.
No, humanity’s search for community and context remains the same, and this is the bedrock of book clubs. However, it’s time to look closer at the circumstances that birthed the idea of book clubs as we know them today.
The Radical Roots of Rebellion
Modern day is great because any gender can actually be intellectual, publicly, and privately. However, things were different in the early days. For instance, in the early 17th century, Anne Hutchinson in 1634 had to create book clubs where women gathered weekly in the Massachusetts Bay Colony to discuss the week’s sermons and theological texts.
Unlike modern day, these gatherings came with immense danger for the participants, because this meant that women could begin interpreting scriptures on their own. This ran against every traditional notion of those days that scripture interpretation was a role for men.
Expectedly, Anne Hutchinson was tried and banished for this. Her creation of a book club was a rebellion in the eyes of the authorities at the time. So, it’s safe to say that gathering to discuss books and bodies of texts wasn’t just a hobby.
The Blue Stockings Society
By the 18th century, book clubs began to gain rounds again, taking on a more polite, yet transformative form. The Blue Stockings Society was a social and educational movement where women and a few men gathered to discuss books and art. This was a substitution for gossiping, playing cards, or doing other fun activities considered normal in that era.
Thanks to this community of people, it was established that conversations are the most important part of the arts. A great work of art is one that drives discussion amongst those that consumed it. The name “Blue Stockings” was because one of the members wore a casual blue worsted stocking, which symbolized the fact that the quality of mind was more important than the formality of the dress. This was the foundation of modern book clubs.
A Path to Self-Improvement
Up until the 19th century, the early forms of book clubs were largely for the religious and secular elites who had access to books and all. However, thanks to the Industrial Revolution of the 19th century, it became important for people to become literate. Owing to these, groups that referred to themselves as ‘mutual improvement societies’ began to pop up amongst the working-class people. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know more. So, groups of laborers, for instance, began to pool money to purchase expensive books and divided them amongst themselves to read.
At the time, books were very costly. So, it only made sense for the clubs to have a collective library where people gathered for read-aloud sessions and had subsequent discussions. Thanks to these clubs, it became a common place for anyone seeking knowledge and context to gain it.
The Modern Spin of Book Clubs
It’s 2025, and it’s now easier than ever to find a book club or a reading tribe. Towards the end of the 20th century, Oprah Winfrey blessed the world with her Oprah Book Club, which led to books enjoying what we call the Oprah Effect. Simply, Oprah’s endorsement of a book always led to commercial success, as she leveraged her followership and community of fans to help great writers promote their books. And since the books were discussed briefly on her show, her recommendations sparked conversations around the world on the particular book she endorsed.
Following in the footsteps of Oprah, a lot of people with a large following and an interest in books have also gone ahead to create book clubs. These include Read with Jenna by Jenna Bush, the Service95 Book Club by Dua Lipa, and even a book club on Goodreads.
Beyond these book clubs, new systems of book recommendations and discussions have risen thanks to the popularity of “BookToks.” These digital forums make it easy to find great books just by scrolling on mobile devices, which is incredible considering the idea of book discussions was once a means to freedom.
Fortunately, it didn’t matter how many evolutions book clubs had to go through; the core tenets remained: to meet, connect, and learn. Now, no one has to worry about finding the next great book to read, because freedom of speech has birthed many awesome writers, and global information access makes these books easily accessible and recommended. Whip out a Kindle, or visit a bookshop, and the next great read is somewhere there on the shelf.
https://magazine.1000libraries.com/the-secret-history-of-book-clubs-no-one-talks-about/?fbclid=IwY2xjawP8b1hleHRuA2FlbQIxMABicmlkETFxVmNtbFJjTnZBTmVTZlVzc3J0YwZhcHBfaWQQMjIyMDM5MTc4ODIwMDg5MgABHthbzzr_6q665DQJKpIzRgNsf7S5_-QG0iS59IDV8YH2t01ldbKU8FKFHICV_aem_MnPcxZ0CrqUk5AWbeufmKQ
Blueberry Oat Dog Muffins
Blueberry Oat Dog Muffins for Dogs Baked as Soft Mini Treats with Whole Oats
Ingredients:
* 1 cup (90 g) rolled oats (plain, dry, finely pulsed but still textured)
* 1/2 cup (120 g) blueberries (fresh or frozen, gently mashed)
* 1/2 cup (120 g) unsweetened applesauce (plain, no sugar added)
* 1 large egg (beaten, room temperature)
* 1/4 cup (60 ml) water (as needed for batter consistency)
* 1 tsp (5 g) baking powder (aluminum-free)
Supplements:
* 1 tsp (5 ml) salmon oil (mixed into batter, supports skin and coat health)
* 1/4 tsp (0.5 g) ground eggshell powder (very finely ground, optional calcium support)
Instructions:
1. Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Line a standard muffin pan with paper liners.
2. In a mixing bowl, combine mashed blueberries, applesauce, beaten egg, salmon oil, and eggshell powder. Mix until well blended.
3. Add rolled oats and baking powder. Stir gently until evenly combined. Add water gradually to form a thick, spoonable batter.
4. Fill each muffin liner about 3/4 full, lightly leveling the tops.
5. Bake for 18–22 minutes until muffins are set and lightly golden. A toothpick should come out clean.
6. Remove from oven and allow muffins to cool completely before serving.
7. Optional: Press 2–3 fresh blueberries gently on top after baking for the look shown.
Storage:
Store muffins in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 4 days. Freeze for up to 3 months. Thaw overnight in the refrigerator before serving.
Benefits:
* Blueberries provide antioxidants and natural sweetness without added sugar.
* Rolled oats offer gentle fiber and sustained energy for digestion.
* Salmon oil supports healthy skin and coat, while eggshell powder contributes natural calcium.
Calorie Information:
Approx. 680 kcal per batch; approx. 55 kcal per muffin (based on 12 muffins). Calories are estimated using standard ingredient values and typical home-prepared portions.
Paulo Coelho
His parents locked him in a psychiatric hospital and gave him electroshock therapy because he refused to become a lawyer—so he walked 500 miles across Spain, wrote a book in two weeks, and it became one of the bestselling books in human history.
This is Paulo Coelho. And "The Alchemist" is his proof that the universe rewards those who refuse to surrender their dreams.
Paulo was born in 1947 in Rio de Janeiro to middle-class parents who had perfectly reasonable expectations: become a lawyer or engineer, get a respectable job, live a conventional life.
Paulo had other plans.
By his teens, he'd fallen in love with Brazil's counterculture—hippie philosophy, rock music, mysticism, poetry, rebellion against everything his parents' generation valued. He didn't want stability. He wanted meaning. He didn't want convention. He wanted freedom.
His parents were horrified. And in 1960s Brazil, they had a solution they believed was for his own good:
They had him institutionalized in a psychiatric hospital.
Between 1965 and 1967, Paulo's parents committed him three separate times. They believed his rebelliousness was mental illness that could be "cured" with treatment. He underwent electroshock therapy. Medication. Confinement. All because he refused to be who they wanted him to be.
The experience was traumatic, dehumanizing, devastating.
But when Paulo finally emerged from those institutions, he wasn't broken. He was more determined than ever to live life on his own terms.
Through the 1970s, Paulo pursued the bohemian existence his parents had tried to erase. He became a successful lyricist, writing songs for some of Brazil's biggest rock musicians. He worked as a journalist. He explored alternative spirituality, magic, mysticism—everything conventional society dismissed as foolish.
He tried writing fiction. His early novels went nowhere.
By his late thirties, Paulo had achieved a kind of success—but something was missing. He felt disconnected from purpose, from meaning, from whatever it was he was supposed to be doing with his life.
Then in 1986, at age 38, Paulo made a decision that would change everything:
He walked the Camino de Santiago.
The Camino is a 500-mile pilgrimage route across northern Spain to the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. For over a thousand years, people have walked it seeking transformation, penance, clarity, answers.
Paulo walked it seeking... something. He wasn't sure what.
The journey was brutal. Long days through heat and rain. Blisters. Exhaustion. Sleeping in pilgrim hostels. Carrying everything on his back. Physical pain testing his mental resolve.
But somewhere along those 500 miles, something shifted.
Paulo began experiencing moments of profound insight. Synchronicities. Signs that felt like the universe was speaking directly to him. He felt himself reconnecting with a spiritual dimension of life he'd lost.
By the time he reached Santiago de Compostela, Paulo felt transformed. He'd found what he'd been seeking: a sense of purpose, a spiritual awakening, a conviction that life had meaning beyond what could be touched or measured.
He wrote about the experience in "The Pilgrimage," published in 1987. It became a cult hit among spiritual seekers.
But the Camino had given him something even more valuable: an idea.
Paulo became obsessed with certain concepts that had crystallized during his walk: that everyone has a "Personal Legend"—a unique destiny they're meant to fulfill. That the universe sends signs to guide those who pursue their purpose. That the journey toward your dream is as important as achieving it.
Then he encountered a short story by Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges—a retelling of an ancient folk tale:
A man dreams of treasure buried in a distant land. He journeys far to find it. When he arrives, he meets another man who's dreamed of treasure buried back where the first man came from. They realize: the treasure was always at home, but they had to take the journey to understand its value.
This story electrified Paulo. It was everything he'd experienced on the Camino, distilled into pure narrative.
He sat down to write.
It was 1987. In approximately two weeks of intensive work, Paulo Coelho wrote "The Alchemist."
He later said the book was "already written in his soul"—he was just transcribing it. The story poured out: Santiago, the shepherd boy who dreams of treasure at the Egyptian pyramids. His journey across North Africa. The alchemist who teaches him to listen to his heart. The discovery that his treasure was home all along—but he had to complete the journey to find it.
The book was simple. A fable. A parable that read like ancient wisdom but was completely original.
Paulo gave the manuscript to his Brazilian publisher. They published it in 1988.
It flopped.
The first print run was small. Sales were disappointing. Critics were indifferent. The publisher, seeing no commercial potential, dropped "The Alchemist" entirely.
Paulo was devastated. He'd poured his spiritual awakening, his deepest beliefs about destiny and purpose, his soul into this book.
And it had failed.
But Paulo believed in "The Alchemist" with absolute, unshakeable conviction. He found another publisher willing to take a chance.
And then something magical happened.
One person read the book and told a friend. That friend told another. Slowly, organically, without marketing campaigns or publicity budgets, "The Alchemist" began spreading through pure word-of-mouth.
By the early 1990s, it was a phenomenon in Brazil. Then Portuguese-speaking countries. Then it was translated into Spanish and exploded across Latin America.
In 1993, HarperCollins published the English translation. It became an international bestseller.
By the late 1990s, "The Alchemist" was selling millions of copies annually, translated into dozens of languages, appearing on bestseller lists worldwide.
Today, over 150 million copies have been sold. It's been translated into 80+ languages. It's one of the most-translated, continuously-in-print books in publishing history.
Presidents quote it. Celebrities recommend it. Teachers assign it. People give it to graduates, friends going through transitions, anyone searching for meaning.
The message is deceptively simple: Follow your dreams. Listen to your heart. When you want something with your whole being, the entire universe conspires to help you achieve it.
Critics sometimes dismiss it as simplistic, as new-age platitudes. But millions of readers have found something profound in its pages—because Paulo Coelho wrote from lived experience.
He'd been institutionalized for refusing to conform.
He'd walked 500 miles seeking spiritual truth.
He'd experienced the synchronicities and signs he wrote about.
And he'd persisted with "The Alchemist" even after it was rejected—because he believed in it absolutely.
The story of "The Alchemist" mirrors its own message: Paulo had a dream (write a book that changes lives), faced seemingly impossible obstacles (institutionalization, rejection, failure), persisted anyway, and eventually the universe conspired to make his book a global phenomenon.
Whether you believe in Personal Legends or consider it metaphor doesn't matter.
The fact remains: Paulo Coelho was a failed novelist whose book was dropped by its first publisher.
Through persistence and belief, that book became one of history's bestsellers.
He was institutionalized for being different. He walked across Spain seeking answers. He wrote a book in two weeks about following your dreams. The first publisher dropped it.
Now, 150 million people have read it.
That's not just a publishing success story.
That's proof that sometimes—just sometimes—when you refuse to surrender what you believe in, when you keep walking even when the path seems impossible, when you trust that your Personal Legend is real—
Impossible things happen.
Paulo Coelho walked 500 miles across Spain seeking purpose.
He found it. Then he wrote it down.
And millions of people, walking their own journeys, have found his words waiting for them like signs along the path.
My Lady - The Mona Lisa
In 1503, a wealthy silk merchant in Florence wanted to celebrate the birth of his second son. He reached out to a local artist to commission a portrait of his young wife.
But the world doesn't know her by her real name. We call her the Mona Lisa, but that was never the title of the masterpiece.
Lisa del Giocondo was a real woman, a mother, and a wife living in the heart of the Renaissance. Her life was largely quiet until she sat before the genius of Leonardo da Vinci.
Leonardo began the work, but he never actually finished it for the merchant. He kept the painting for years, carrying it with him across Europe until his death in France.
For centuries, the identity of the woman in the frame was treated as a mystery. Some experts claimed she was a noble mistress, or even a secret self-portrait of Leonardo himself.
Critics looked closely at her features. They looked at the soft shadows. They looked at the lack of eyebrows and wondered if she was even a real person.
But in 2008, a discovery in a dusty archive at Heidelberg University changed everything. A library expert found a note scribbled in the margin of an old book from 1503.
That note was written by a contemporary of Leonardo. It confirmed that the artist was indeed working on a portrait of Lisa del Giocondo at that exact moment.
Even with this proof, the confusion remains because of the name itself. "Mona" is not a first name; it is actually a contraction of "Monna," the Italian word for "My Lady."
So when we say Mona Lisa, we are simply saying "Lady Lisa." In Italy, they call the painting La Gioconda, which is a play on her husband's last name.
Despite being the most famous face on earth, the woman herself never saw the global fame she would achieve. She lived a modest life while her image became immortal.
She saw the birth of her children. She saw the rise of the Medici. She saw the changing face of Florence.
Today, she sits behind bulletproof glass in the Louvre. Millions of people stare at her every year, yet most still don't know the name of the lady they are visiting.
It is a reminder that history often captures the image but forgets the person. Lisa was more than just a smile; she was a witness to the greatest era of art in human history.
She remains the world's most enduring enigma.
Sources: Louvre Museum Archives / Heidelberg University Records / History Channel
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