Ahhh, October… the most magical month of the year. The air is crisp, the foliage is bright, the pumpkin spice lattes are hot and best of all … it’s National Book Month! Break out your bookmarks and your library cards because we’ve got some celebrating to do!
Ever since I can remember, I have been a proud bookworm. From Bernstein Bears and Little Critter tales to American Girl and Sweet Valley High, I read most of the late ’80s and early ’90s childhood staples. However, there was always one book series that truly had my heart: The Baby-Sitters Club by Ann M. Martin.
I received a box set of four Baby-Sitters Club books for Christmas when I was in first grade. Though they were labeled to be at a fourth-grade reading level, I welcomed the challenge (after all, how cool was I for reading the same books as a 10-year-old?) and quickly devoured the books. The Baby-Sitters Club (or BSC, as we enthusiasts called it) books were so much more than just words on a page. Rather, the fictional Stoneybrook, Connecticut became real to me. Suddenly, I had seven new friends: Kristy, Mary Anne, Claudia, Stacey, Dawn, Mallory, and Jessi. (Sorry, I’m a BSC purist and don’t count later addition, Abby.)
Naturally, one would assume Mallory would be my favorite, as we share the same uncommon name, but I so wanted to be like fashionable and creative Claudia or Californian granola girl, Dawn. Even as a child, I was disheartened that Mallory was portrayed as slightly awkward, complete with glasses and braces! (Ironically enough, I did fall victim to both glasses and braces as well, so perhaps I should have empathized a bit more with Mallory.) The truth is, I am probably most similar to sensitive, introverted Mary-Anne.
The girls in these books weren’t written to be perfect. Some of them came from blended families, which as a child of divorce, I really appreciated. They had disagreements with each other and didn’t always get along. They struggled with self-confidence and weren’t necessarily the “cool” girls. Although each of the girls was different, it was easy to see a little bit of myself in each of them.
Reading the BSC made the fictional town of Stoneybrook, Connecticut come alive. My mind was a constant map of the illusory town. I imagined laughing over sizzling slices at Pizza Express with boisterous Kristy. I went shopping for trendy clothes at the oh-so-chic Merry Go Round with sophisticated New York girl Stacey. I shared huge ice cream sundaes with junk-food crazed Claudia at the Rosebud Café. In a word, I was obsessed.
These girls were my childhood icons. And, you know what? They were great ones! The BSC promoted strong female friendships and entrepreneurship. The girls cared about their relationships with one another, wanted to make a difference in their community, and loved their families, despite the fact that few came from the typical “nuclear” family.
While most fads fade, I never fully outgrew The Baby-Sitters Club. Though I shelved the series in my basement, I still made the trek down the stairs occasionally when I wanted to relive a sliver of my childhood. Proving myself as a faithful fan, I have saved many of my old books in the hopes that my daughter will one day fall in love with them just as much as I did. (I may have to explain to her some of the dated references, like answering machines and video stores.) Netflix will soon be breathing new life into the franchise, as they will be releasing their own series in 2020, and you had better believe I’ll be watching.
Whenever I see a BSC book at the library or a used bookstore, I am instantly transported back in time to another world. That is the power of a good book; it is so much more than just words on a page. Rather, a good book evokes a memory or a feeling. And, nearly 27 years later, the BSC is still giving me all the feels.
