pseudo-celebrity sighting

I was at my local Barnes and Noble the other day on my lunch break (yes, on my lunch break I walked FROM the library TO a bookstore...) and I had a moment of pseudo-celebrity. I was waiting in line, looking at the book in my hand when I heard a loud, stage whisper "muffle shmuffle...from the library!" I look up and there are two women on either side of a large, friendly looking man, who is smiling widely and waving enthusiastically. The women just look dumbstruck. So, I smile and wave and they walk away, with the man loudly extolling my virtues to the waiting women.

By extolling my virtues, I mean something along the lines of "that lady helped me the other day, at the library, remember when I went to the library? Yeah, she was really nice..." Anyway, it gave me a nice feeling as I walked back down the street to the library. I was recognized in public! I'm a public figure! I may not have been popular in high school, but nowadays, people like me :)

So, why did this teeny, tiny little incidence of pseudo-celebrity waken me out of my blogging slumber? Possibly spelling an end to my blogger hiatus (but, then again, maybe not)? Well, I started thinking about how such a tiny little act of recognition gave me such a good feeling, boosting my self-worth and probably making me feel more attractive than I really am. Then I realized that is precisely the same brand of inflated self-importance I get from blogging - a sense of being recognized outside my usual sphere of relevance. This, my friends, must account for the viral nature of reality tv, youtube, social networking sites and blogging.

We all just want to feel special.

Small victories

Time to celebrate small victories. I've got a lot of them and since no one would notice them without my public declarations, it's time to let the trumpet blow:

1. Two books were taken off my thematic book display last month...that's right, not one but TWO!! That means that there are two teenagers out there who picked up a book to read-just for fun.
2. My reference stats went up this month. Last month I only got to help 44 people, this month I served the information needs of 52 patrons. WOOT WOOT!
3. Thanks to a teenage patron who lets me borrow his Nintendo DS on an almost daily basis, my "brain age" is down from 72 to 34 (20 is the ideal). I'm activating my prefrontal cortex!
4. Last, but definitely not least, one of my three regular patrons (the least endearing one, who flouts library rules and suffers from disastrous levels of bo) absolutely could not be convinced to read. Not books, not magazines, not comics, nothing. A few months ago he left for bootcamp in Georgia. Imagine my surprise when he was back in town for the holidays and was half way through listening to the Harry Potter series on his mp3 player! Why didn't I think of that?!?! Who cares-he found a gateway into the world of reading! Not only that, a few days later he handed me his DS and said I should try out this game-it's based on the Harry Potter series and he's already beaten it twice. I am the lamest rpg player ever, but as I played I realized how much reading and storytelling was involved in this game. Score!

Library groupies

I have groupies. Yes, groupies. One of my female fans has gotten in the habit of bringing me baked goods. For a goth/punk in Special Ed. she's a surprisingly good baker. She's also a voracious reader. I think the fantasy books she prefers provide her with an escape from reality. She's mentioned a few times that her mentor would like her to read some realism, but she can't be convinced. I'm just impressed that she read through the Maximum Ride series by James Patterson before I did.

My other teenage groupie has left candy bars on my desk, as well as an assortment of hysterical notes and haikus. I now have them taped up all over the YA area. They're about things like his feelings on chick lit ("girly books") and the essence of onomatopoeia.

Last, but not least there are the homeless male groupies. I wish to the heavens I did not have this innate desire to be polite and friendly to everyone, because it does make it hard to get homeless men to leave me alone. A homeless man actually offered me food today. At least, I hope it was food he was refering to. He left chocolate Hannukah coins on my desk yesterday and today he asked me if I wanted some more "treats." I hurridly declined. Shouldn't he save it for himself? I know I'm paranoid, but I threw the Hannukah coins away and I didn't want any more food going to waste.

I read my first Clique novel last week (Revenge of the Wannabes, Lisi Harrison) on a patrons reccommendation, so I have those crazy "IN" "OUT" lists in my head (don't read the book, it's not worth it).

IN = teenage groupies and homemade baked goods
OUT = creepy homeless men who want to hold my hand (that's a whole other blog) and give me "treats."

teenage boys in the library

The fun thing about teenage boys who read quite a bit of diverse literary material is that their vocabulary suggests an intellectual maturity far beyond their social skills and/or sense of humor. For instance, just the other day my likeable library groupie was telling me a funny story (of which I have no memory) when he mentioned someones "willy" and when I laughed at his choice of words he went on to explain that he had intentionally chosen the word "willy" to act as an unnecessary euphemism to add a touch of irony to his tale.

I think use of the word "willy" and "euphemism" in the same sentence is a great example of the teenage mind. :)

Book clubs and teenage boys

I have a confession to make - I've never been to a book club before. Not only that, I've never desired to go to a book club, much less organize and run one. That used to make me feel a little guilty (being a lover of books) and a little incompetent (shouldn't a Librarian love everything having to do with reading?).

That's why I found it a marvelous surprise when I accidentally started a book club and found that I really, really like it. A couple weeks ago a teenager latched onto me. You know how it is with that one patron who really doesn't have a question for you, but will stand at the desk and talk endlessly as though it were your job to listen? He does that every day, for hours at a time. He started off talking about books - so I was on the hook, but after awhile it just got tedious (he's a Sci Fi fan and I can only take so much). Day after day, he completely missed all my subtle get-away-from-me moves, yet was so entirely likable that I didn't have the heart to be blunt.

Then out of the blue I finally came up with the most obvious solution on the planet-reading. He had raved about all these books that he loved, so I flipped the script and started raving about a book that I loved. I made him take it out and told him it was so good he needed to start reading it IMMEDIATELY. It worked! He sat at the table next to my desk and read quietly for the next hour. He liked the book so much that the next day (turns out he's an incredibly fast reader) after we'd talked about all the things we liked about the book, symbolism we noticed and different insights we'd gleaned from it, we both decided to read the sequel.

Truth be told, I'd read the first book (The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier, by the way) for my YA class in grad. school last year and was far too bogged down with school work and work work to move on to the sequel. This was a great excuse to pick up a book I'd been wanting to read, without the guilt I feel whenever I pick up a non-school related book during the semester. I actually read most of it while it was slow on desk, because I could call it "work-related" (I love my job!)

My groupie and I raced to see who could finish it first (technically he won, because he said he finished it the same night, but I finished it before I saw him the next day, so it was effectively a tie) and we had a great time discussing that book too. There are several kids who come into the library every day, so we grabbed one of them and asked her to pick the next book (a spur-of-the-moment ploy to get her to join us instead of playing computer games all afternoon). Actually we had such a great time combing the stacks with her and grabbing suggestions, that we all picked a book we want the group to read, so now we have a cue.

I think I'm enjoying it so much in part because I didn't plan it. I didn't advertise a book club, analyze what books to choose or type out a list of discussion points. Actually, I feel like I'm just a member of the group, with the extra function of calling around and getting more copies when needed. I can't wait to talk to them about our next book-The Messenger by Lois Lowry, because honestly, I'm hoping they can explain some of it to me. I really feel like there were some parts of it I just didn't get and there were other times when I wondered if I was reading too much into the symbolism of certain scenes.

Now, I've run out of time to blog about the hysterical and paradoxical nature of teenage boys, so I'll have to save that topic for next time. Just a hint: the story it's based off of involves the words "willy" and "euphemism." :) Ta ta!

Love is...

There are so many things I love about my library. Yes, you have to be a true library nerd to use "love" and "library" in the same sentence. I admit it, I'm a little over the edge. I'm becoming one of those people who thinks their profession is the most crucial to the entire human race. You know, like the dentist who thinks oral health is THE SINGLE most important facet of daily life. Priority number 1 in the morning should be flossing and everything else comes later... Or the chiropractor who is convinced that the spine is the most important part of the body (without lungs or a heart we'd still have trouble walking around). Podiatrists obviously think their specialty is "foundational" to the rest of your life. I haven't quite gotten to the point where I think the library should be everyone's one true love (yet), but it may be a slippery slope from where I am right now.

Here's a partial list of all the things I love about it here:

On a bright sunny morning the light streams in our stained glass windows and creates prisms on the floors, tables and chairs (as I type this, I have prisms all over my desk, keyboard and hands - it makes working on a Saturday just a little bit nicer).

When the wind blows in the right direction I can smell the ocean as I leave at night. Ahhhh, walking to my car on a warm summer night with the smell of the ocean wafting gently in the air. It's a bliss that not many people understand.

During the holiday season there will be wreaths hung from the 2 balconies that overlook our large "front room" and a huge, lighted tree outside on the town green. This past holiday season was made a little more magical each night as I walked through the quiet front room, wrapping my scarf around my neck, and emerged out into the city where the fresh, cool air and a marvelous Christmas tree awaited me.

What are they here for?

The school year has begun and the library has been flooded with young adults-at least, it seems like a flood compared to the dearth of teenagers during the summer months. The Childrens room basically has a floor of the library to itself, which allows the kids that use it to be a little noisier than expected in a library, without distracting other patrons. The teenagers of our city are not so lucky. The Young Adult section of the library is located at one end of the Reference/Non-fiction area-close enough to the Reference desk for librarians to keep an eye (and ear) on them at all times. The eye part is great-teens can't get away with too much (i.e. wrestling each other to the ground until someone begs for mercy) and don't destroy all our materials. The ear part is obnoxious. The area between the Reference desk and the YA area is a "Quiet Area" with tables and chairs for quiet reading and studying. So if groups of 2-4 high school students come in to work on homework after school and end up socializing (inevitable) and end up getting a little too loud for the Ref. libs. liking (practically inevitable) a shushing war ensues. In an urban setting like ours, the teens can be very defiant and tensions can rise very quickly. The librarians quickly become disenchanted with teenagers at large and teens become more and more defiant when they realize they're being stereotyped in edition to being shushed. Without the option of putting a sound-proof, clear Plexiglas wall between the YA section and the rest of the library I'm at a loss to see how we can end this cycle. The whole thing made me think about what libraries are really for. If libraries are for reading, studying and other related (quiet) activities, then young adults should be made aware of our policies and asked to find other venues for socializing (i.e. we should kick them out when they are too loud). If, on the other hand, libraries are cultural centers for their communities-places to showcase art, have movies and discussions on political topics, where members of the community can come for educational support and encouragement, rather than just a DIY center---in that case, maybe it's the responsibility of the library to create a better facility for the young adults to have their needs met, without detriment to other patrons.

I think our Library Board and Administration would consider us something of a “Cultural Center.” Unfortunately, that concept either hasn’t trickled down to the front lines, or only lasts as long as the nerve endings of whichever librarian is at the desk.