Three years after the onset of the pandemic, it dawned on Rachel Pisani that she hadn't finished a book the entire time.
She could hardly be blamed. More people are having trouble staying with a book to the end; life's busy, our focus frayed from scrolling. Still, the realization landed heavier for Ms. Pisani: she's a bookseller.
"Between COVID and life just getting busier, I found myself unable to focus on anything," said Ms. Pisani, a store manager at Queen Books in Toronto. "The days of free time are very much in my past. How do I meet people? How do I talk about the things I like, which are books?"
Ms. Pisani decided the only way would be to schedule uninterrupted reading time into her life, then extend that opportunity to others. Last year, she launched Slow Burn, a quiet book club she hosts at the shop, at bars and in parks. People show up with their own books, Ms. Pisani sets a timer, and everyone reads in silence for an hour.
"If I waited for the perfect opportunity to read, it would never come," said Ms. Pisani, who at this month's session was diving into a Danish novel about a woman trapped in a time loop.
Silent reading groups like hers are mushrooming across the country, from Prince Rupert to Grande Prairie to Winnipeg to Charlottetown. Run by volunteers, the clubs take over bookstores, libraries, parks, cafés, bars and distilleries, readers huddled over their books in silence together.
"Welcome to introvert happy hour," reads a tagline for Silent Book Club, which counts some 2,000 chapters around the world, including many in Canada. "BYOB (Bring Your Own Book)," the websites quip. The groups are low-pressure, with no assigned readings or organized discussion. Still, the idea is for people to hold each other accountable when a hand reaches distractedly for a phone.
In Toronto, after Ms. Pisani's timer goes off, the readers go out and discuss what they've read, or not. "I facilitate the conversation, but I try not to camp-counsellor it. That's why it's not a book club," she said.
On a recent Friday, readers gathered in a greenhouse filled with flowers in Beaverlodge, Alta., population 2,454. "I just thought, wouldn't it be wonderful to sit in a greenhouse where it smells amazing and read for an hour?" said Kirsten Clark, a 33-year-old college instructor who runs the town's monthly club. The group includes seniors, a father and daughter, and a woman who recently moved to town. "It's a low-stress way to start making connections," she said.
For some, silent book clubs are bringing back reading for pleasure after long spells of going without. Finishing an English literature degree – mountains of books to read and dissect on deadline – artist Kim Stevens felt "read out." "Reading for pleasure? What is that?" laughed Ms. Stevens, 58, who co-owns a creative community space in Toronto and now joins the Slow Burn nights at Queen Books. "Even though it's just an hour of reading, it's very restorative," she said.
The movement is also branching into reading retreats and offline meetups. Silent Book Club will host retreats in Italy and Iceland this year, promising time "surrounded by fellow readers who understand the need for both connection and solitude." Earlier this month, the Amsterdam chapter of The Offline Club brought 300 people together at a 17th-century church to read, paint, craft and play board games, with live piano accompaniment. "People join to slow down from the rush of life, get set hours for focused, undistracted reading and be in a calm space where they can meet like-minded people without any phones in sight," said Ilya Kneppelhout, co-founder of the club.
Research suggests there's value to these semi-solitary, social pursuits, with a 2024 study concluding they boost connection and restore energy. "It brings together people of different ages who share a common interest in putting their phones down and experiencing time together in real life, as opposed to separately," Ms. Stevens said.