I am 100% certain I won't be the only person who sees a pivotal scene in "Book Club: The Next Chapter," now in theaters, and audibly gasps.

It's when the book clubbers — played by Candice Bergen, Jane Fonda, Diane Keaton and Mary Steenburgen — gather for the first time after months of pandemic-enforced Zoom meetings. We've seen the women try to get conversations about books going when all they can see is each other's head on their computer screens, which reminded me how great it was to keep in touch during those months but also that it just wasn't the same as meeting at each other's house.

So that "Book Club" scene brought me right back to the exhilarating moment when my own — vaccinated! — club finally gathered in the same room, not on the same digital platform. I recalled exactly what the Keaton character meant when she hugged her friends and said, "This still feels illegal."

Long story short: I love my book club. We've been together, give or take some people leaving and others joining, ever since I moved to Minneapolis in 1991, heard about book clubs for the first time (they're bigger here than almost anywhere else) and immediately thought, "I need to start one of those."

It's the only book club I've been in, but I'm dimly aware that the way we do things is not the way everyone does. I've heard of clubs that serve full meals, possibly themed to the book (enjoy those ground apples to tie in with Cormac McCarthy's "The Road!"). We usually just do dessert and maybe some crackers or baby carrots.

We vote from among several titles selected by that month's host. We almost always choose fiction, usually something fairly recent. We have men and women, gay people and straight. We used to choose only paperbacks but we've slipped into hardcovers lately. It probably takes us longer to get around to discussing the book when nobody feels passionate about it. We loved Lydia MIllet's "Dinosaurs" a couple of months ago but still laugh about how terrible the great memoirist Ruth Reichl's novel "Delicious" is. We all wish we could meet on Rick Nelson's gorgeous back porch every single month.

But I'm curious about other clubs. How do you choose books? Do you concentrate on certain genres or themes? Who's in your group? What have been some of your favorite and least favorite books? Where do you meet? What's the food like? How long have you been together? How many of you are there? How did you weather the pandemic? Do your members have similar tastes? Are there kinds of books, or topics, you've found best to avoid? And the biggie: Do you actually talk about the book?

In some ways, I think of the Star Tribune's coverage as a big book club. We love hearing from readers, and I'd especially love to hear about your clubs, since I already know what I think about my own club (again: love).

We'd like to start a regular look at book clubs in Minnesota, with answers to those questions and maybe some others that you can help me think of.

Book clubs are such a huge part of our thriving literary scene that we'd like to include them in the Star Tribune's coverage. So, if you think we should include your club, please write me and tell me more at books@startribune.com.