Libraries by Sharon Dean

LUCY BURDETTE: Today we welcome Sharon Dean to the blog with a subject I bet we can all agree on--our love of libraries!

SHARON DEAN: When I was in elementary school, I devoured a series of biographies bound in orange. I read now that they were published by Bobbs-Merrill and that there were over two hundred of them. I could still lead anyone to the shelf where they sat waiting for me to select enough to keep me busy for the week. 

My first job was shelving books in that little library that I still associate with orange-bound biographies. When I was about thirteen, I'd walk the half mile to my job and walk home by myself in the dark. Those were days when we weren't as fearful. The biggest fear my parents had was that I'd go to my job and find the librarian dead. Her name was Bertha and I remember her as a shriveled old lady, though she probably wasn't much older than fifty. But she was ill with cancer. A strange smell often filled the library. I think that it was the smell of death. And, yes, she died while I still worked there, but thankfully not in the library.

I gave Bertha's name to the elderly, former librarian in my novel The Barn. I based that library not on the one of my childhood but on the one in the town where I raised my children. There's a wonderful story about that library. It had once been a church. When the church closed and joined the other Protestant church in town, there was a stipulation that the building had to be used for church purposes or income. My kids went to youth group there and they roller skated around the former, now pew-less, sanctuary. My daughter took her first dance classes there. 

When the town needed a new library, this old church seemed a perfect place. It would absolve the other church of the financial burden of its upkeep and provide the town the space it badly needed. But there was that clause in the will that related not to the building, but to the land the building was on. It took years, but two women eventually tracked down the heir, who was, I recall, a librarian himself. He gladly gave permission for the church to become a library. 

Bigger libraries are now available to me. The library at the college in the East where I taught, the library at the college in the West where I now live, the Carnegie town library in my town, the many libraries I researched in when I was an academic: the Beinecke at Yale, the Hay at Brown, the Houghton at Harvard, the Morgan Pierpont in New York City. But my heart is with the small libraries of my childhood and my young motherhood and of that little library that Charity Royall is in charge of in Edith Wharton's Summer. 

When I was researching for The Wicked Bible, my forthcoming novel featuring Deborah Strong, librarian and reluctant sleuth, I read two books on the history of libraries: Wayne A. Wiegand's, Part of Our Lives: A People's History of the American Public Library (Oxford UP, 2015) and Matthew Battles' Library: An Unquiet History (Norton, 2015). What an interesting history it is. Big or small, libraries deserve to be labeled "sacred spaces."

In this age of easy downloads, how important are libraries to you? What stories about a library would you like to share?

About the book: In 1990, Deborah Madison and Rachel Cummings, both seventeen, are enjoying a bicycle ride on a beautiful September day in New Hampshire. They stop at a local barn that no longer houses cows but still displays a wooden cow’s head that peeks out from a window in the rafters. Sliding open the door, they find Rachel’s boyfriend, Joseph Wheeler, dead on the barn’s floor.

The case lies as cold as Joseph for nearly thirty years until Rachel returns to New Hampshire to attend the funeral of Joseph’s mother. The girls, now women, reopen the cold case and uncover secrets that have festered, as they often do, in small towns. Against a backdrop of cold and snow and freezing rain, Deborah and Rachel rekindle their friendship and confess the guilt each of them has felt about things that happened in the past. The Barn is a story of friendship lost and recovered, secrets buried and unburied, and the power of forgiveness.

About Sharon Dean: Sharon L. Dean grew up in Massachusetts where she was immersed in the literature of New England. She earned undergraduate and graduate degrees at the University of New Hampshire, a state she lived and taught in before moving to Oregon. After giving up writing scholarly books that required footnotes, she reinvented herself as a fiction writer. She is the author of three Susan Warner mysteries and of a literary novel titled Leaving Freedom. The Barn, the first novel in a new mystery series, features librarian and reluctant sleuth Deborah Strong as she and her friend solve a thirty-year-old cold case. Set in the depth of New Hampshire’s January, The Barn is a story of friendship lost and recovered, secrets buried and unburied, and the power of forgiveness.

When Your Personal Life is Material for Your Work by Jenn McKinlay

Jenn McKinlay: In a different lifetime, I was a part-time librarian. It was a great job. I loved my coworkers, the books, the public, the books, the atmosphere, the books, well, you get the idea. The library was my happy place.

That was right up until a patron got the wrong idea about my smiling helpfulness. He was asking for books on how to care for his hamster and I gamely jumped in, making his mission my mission as I did with any and all reference questions. When he left the building, he had a stack of hamster books in his arms, and I felt as if my mission was accomplished. 

Sadly, this patron took my friendliness the wrong way. The next time he appeared at my desk, he had a stack of planning your wedding books for me. He pushed them towards me and said, "I think June 1st would be a lovely day to get married." ACK!!!

It got worse. He sat near my reference desk and stared at me for hours. He waited for me when I left the building. I started looking over my shoulder constantly and spent my days on edge. The administrators at the time (they've since retired) were hesitant to kick him out of the building for fear of violating his civil rights. Excuse me?! And we wonder why women don't feel heard.

Finally, a detective from the Phoenix PD came to see me, sent by a friend who was the head of the liquor commission at the time. He listened to my story and told me he'd never seen a case of stalking handled so poorly by the powers that be (library admin) in all his years on the force. He and a partner went to talk to my stalker and convinced him to stay clear of me and the building I worked in for at least a year. Turns out, the guy had a history of stalking and had done jail time before. 

September 2019

So, when it came time to write WORD TO THE WISE, I knew I wanted to settle some old scores, right some wrongs, and exorcise some demons. Here is a snippet as librarian Lindsey Norris struggles with how to handle a patron, who is overstepping:

     Lindsey was going over the agenda of the next library board meeting with the president, Milton Duffy, in the main part of the library when Mayor Hensen and his right hand man, Herb Gunderson, came into the building. The mayor was known for his politician’s thousand-watt smile but at the moment, there was no sign of it. Not even a twitch of his lips.

     “Good afternoon, Mayor, Herb,” Lindsey greeted them.

     “A word, Lindsey,” Mayor Henson said. He kept walking, not even slowing down, towards Lindsey’s office. She gave Milton a wide-eyed look and followed the mayor into the workroom to the back where her office was. She felt Ms. Cole watching, and she turned and shrugged with a bewildered expression. Ms. Cole, who was not a fan of the mayor, smiled.

     Once in the office, the mayor and Herb took the two seats across from her desk and Lindsey sat down behind it. 

     “Can I get you anything?” she offered. “Coffee, water, soda?”

     “No thank you,” Mayor Hensen said. Herb didn’t say anything and Lindsey knew that the nature of their relationship meant that the mayor was answering for Herb as well. 

     “We’re here to discuss a matter of concern brought to us by a resident of Briar Creek,” Herb said.

     Lindsey felt her heart sink. This was how they always began a discussion when someone wanted to ban a book. While the mayor and Herb tended to be more interested in placating the patron, Lindsey took a hard line on not banning books. Period.

     She straightened her back. If they tried to get rid of one of her paper bound babies, well, there was going to be a fight.

     “Mr. Aaron Grady stopped by my office and told us that he’d been banned from using the library by the chief of police,” Mayor Hensen said. “Is this true?”

     Lindsey felt her face get warm. She did not want to have to explain this situation to the mayor. It was awkward and embarrassing and in a town where most of the department heads were male, she was afraid this was going to make her look weak and ineffectual. Her resentment spiked. She decided to stick to the facts.

     “I believe Chief Plewicki spoke to him about his inappropriate behavior,” Lindsey said. “Last I saw, she followed him out of the building and I haven’t heard from her since. I expect she’ll be in touch to give me more details when she gets the chance. If she banned him from the building, that’s welcome news to me.”

     “What was inappropriate about his use of the library?” Herb asked.

     “At the time, he was sitting at a desk and staring at me,” she said. 

     The two men exchanged a look. 

     “For an hour,” Lindsey said. “Just staring. And when I came into my office after being out there, he dragged a desk and chair into the shelving so he could continue to do so.”

     She pointed out the office window at the stacks but the desk and chair had already been moved back to their original location.

     “Do you think you might be overreacting?” Herb asked. Lindsey glowered.

      “He brings me roses from his garden,” she said. They stared at her, clearly waiting for more. “He pops up in town, wherever I am.” They weren’t getting it. “He showed up at my house.”

     The men exchanged a look. Herb cleared his throat and said, “Lindsey, you’re an attractive woman, and I mean that as an unbiased observation of fact and not in any way inappropriately.”

     “Okay,” Lindsey said. She wasn’t sure what to make of this.

     “So, is it really unreasonable for a man to notice you?” Herb asked.

     The mayor nodded as if to say what he said.

    “I mean,” Herb continued. “Can’t you just take it as a compliment and not have him kicked out of the building?”

     Lindsey returned their gazes, studying the two men sitting in front of her. She liked them. They were both good, solid family men. The sort who went to church every Sunday, doted on their moms, coached little league and soccer in their spare time. They were solid, salt of the earth types of guys. They could never imagine what it felt like to be a victim of unwanted attention and Lindsey didn’t know how to explain it beyond the fact that it sucked. She went with the facts.

     “No, I can’t,” she said. “Because it’s not a compliment. It’s creepy and marginally threatening and if it was your wife, sister, mother, or daughter, I don’t think you’d want them to put up with it either.”

     “Oh, now, come on,” Mayor Hensen tried to cajole her. “I know I’d be delighted if a woman thought I was attractive enough to warrant a couple of longing looks and some roses. Surely, being complimented like that can’t be that bad.” He elbowed Herb. “Am I right?”

     “Absolutely,” Herb said. “We don’t want to punish a man for having a silly little crush, do we? You should be flattered, Lindsey.”

     “Flattered?” she asked. “Did you miss the part where the guy showed up at my house with flowers when I was home alone. I never gave him my address. I’m not even listed at that address. That’s crossing the line.”

     “Yes, he did admit that he might have overstepped,” Herb said.

     “Might have?” Lindsey asked. “There’s no “might have” here. Listen, there’s something wrong with him and I’m not willing to put my staff or myself in harm’s way if this guy decides to show up with a gun or a bomb or whatever. So, no, I’m not going to pretend that I find this flattering. I don’t. It’s wrong and it’s weird, and I expect your support on this.”

     The two men exchanged another look.

     “Here’s the problem,” Herb said. “Mr. Grady has threatened to sue the town for infringing upon his civil rights if he is kicked out of the library. Since he hasn’t threatened you in any way, we feel it is best to let him back into the building.”

     “You’re joking,” she

said.

     The two men simply looked at her and she knew that their fear of a lawsuit outweighed their concern that she and her staff could be at risk. In that moment, the disappointment she felt in these two men she considered colleagues and friends had no bottom.

     “I’m afraid not,” Mayor Hensen said. “Mr. Grady is allowed to use the library just like any other resident of Briar Creek and the Thumb Islands. I’ll be making my position on this clear to Chief Plewicki as well.”

     He rose from his seat and Herb followed. At the door, Herb looked back and said, “If you have any other information, if he does anything that warrants further consideration, let us know and we can discuss it again.”

     With that they left, and Lindsey felt betrayed on a level she had never before experienced. 

What about you, Reds and Readers, have you ever had anyone cross the line? How did you get rid of them?

Bother the Librarian!

INGRID THOFT

Let me introduce you to my favorite librarians (after our own Jenn McKinlay, of course), Andrea Gough and Linda Johns.  They are both reader services librarians at The Seattle Public Library, where their jobs involve connecting readers with the right book at the right time.  Doesn't that sound like an amazing job?  They were kind enough to give me the scoop on their days in the stacks.

INGRID: The Seattle Public Library does much more than just provide books to Seattle’s citizens.   Can you tell me a little bit about the library’s patrons and the services they utilize?

The spectacular Central Branch

ANDREA: First, I will just say that I feel lucky to be a librarian in the city of Seattle, where so many people are readers. So we do have a ton of people who use the library to get books (print, digital, audio) and suggestions for what to read next - for themselves, and for their kids. Outside of books and reading, the library is still very much “the people’s university,” a place patrons come to learn new skills or just satisfy their curiosity.

Of course, our computers are still very in demand, by folks who may not have internet access or a computer at home, and we’ve tried to expand that type of service by assembling a collection of WiFi hot spots available for check out. I’m continually amazed at how busy our library branches are - along with the bus, it’s really one of the only spaces left where every part of society mingles. We try to do fun stuff, too - writing classes, bookish happy hours in bars, story times (for children and adults!), occasional concerts, book bingo, and summer learning.

LINDA: I hope people will keep in mind that libraries are the “people’s university.” You can dabble or dive in, keep up on civic discussions through programs, attend an author reading and feel like you’re coming away from it a bit smarter, a bit more enlightened. The same wonder you loved about libraries as a kid still holds true for all ages and stages of your life.

Linda in the stacks

IPT: I always recommend that visitors to the city take time to see the spectacular Central Branch, which was designed by architects Rem Koolhaas and Joshua Prince-Ramus.  What’s it like working in an iconic building?  Are there things you like best?  Least?

LINDA: Going to work in the Central Library in downtown Seattle feels like a privilege - and I truly love it.  It feels a bit like a European museum structure. It’s not for everyone, though, and particularly not for people who haven’t been in a library for years (or decades). Those people tend to cling to nostalgia about libraries, hoping for hushed atmospheres and dark corners. It’s the light that I like best in the Central Library. It’s apparently hard to find bathrooms in our library, though, based on the number of times each day staff get asked!

ANDREA: I love that it brings in people - both tourists and Seattle residents - who haven’t been to a library in years, although Linda’s right that that may clash with their expectations of a library. I love coming to work in this building, in part, because it is a testament to how much the people of Seattle support libraries. The navigation here is tricky, though, which I think can lead to frustration for people who just want to use the resources, not marvel at the architecture.

IPT: What do you wish library patrons knew about librarians?

LINDA: Remember that you can ask a librarian ANYTHING! You can walk into any library, anywhere and ask for a book recommendation, ask for ideas for your book group, or ask how to research a new vacuum cleaner in your budget. When school groups come in, we encourage them to always talk to the librarian. In fact, we often have them shout “Bother the librarian!” in unison. It’s a glorious thing to hear 30 middle-schoolers shout “Bother the librarian,” (although less enchanting when a lone adult does it) and we hope they remember that motto for the rest of their lives. 

ANDREA: Ditto. Also, I always want to know when a patron has read a good book and what they liked about it - come tell me! 

They're well-read and glamorous!

IPT: What would you like to know from readers?

ANDREA: How do you find your books?!? Where are you looking to find new authors and titles to read? Sometimes I feel like I’ve been surrounded by professional readers for so long that I don’t know how other people figure out what to read next.

LINDA: I want to know how readers make their choices, too! And how do they stay on top of things? I’m always mystified and delighted when I go to place a hold on a forthcoming title, feeling like I’ve got insider knowledge from an early review, and then find that 22 readers are already in the hold queue for that book. How did they know? How do you decide what to read when browsing online? Also, if I recommend a book to you, I’d love to hear what you thought. It helps me make a better book match for you in the future.

IPT: How do you figure out what to read next and what to recommend to us next?

LINDA: We look to trade reviews (Publishers Weekly, Booklist, Library Journal) for forthcoming titles and to keep up on the pre-publication buzz.  We also pay attention to Library Reads where librarians across the U.S. vote for their favorite new books each month. I feel super lucky to work in a reading culture where there are daily conversations with colleagues about what we’re reading and loving. I’m always eyeing Andrea’s book stacks for my next reads, too.
ANDREA: I’m pretty active on Goodreads, where I keep track of what I’ve read and also get to see what other people I know are reading. I also love NPR’s book coverage, especially their end-of-year Book Concierge; it’s a great discovery tool! I feel lucky to have a community of readers, too, friends, family, colleagues, and even strangers.

IPT: Last question:  Name a book you love recommending to patrons.

ANDREA: Just one?! I frequently recommend the Robert Galbraith (aka J.K. Rowling) series, beginning with The Cuckoo’s Calling. I feel like the books in that series fire on all cylinders: twisty plots, well-written, and I find the main characters Cormoran Strike and Robin Ellacott to be so interesting I just want to spend more time with them.

IPT: I love that series!  Great pick!

Andrea with one of her picks.

ANDREA:  In a very different direction, I love suggesting Claire DeWitt and the City of the Dead by Sara Gran. That book and its sequel take a very specific kind of reader, one who is open to weirdness, unconventional methods of detection, and a sometimes unlikable character - but when I find those readers, I get so excited!

LINDA: The Ellie Rush series (starts with Murder on Bamboo Lane) by Naomi Hirahara stars a young L.A. bike cop whose connections to the rich ethnic neighborhoods of Los Angeles and aspirations to be a homicide detective combine into terrific character-driven mysteries. I’m always looking for younger sleuths and it’s a pleasure to recommend this series. 

Thank you so much Andrea and Linda, and now, it's time to "Bother the Librarian!"  They'll be checking in all day to answer your questions!

Do YOU Remember?

HANK PHILLIPI RYAN:  Now, a combo of our two themes of the week. A great idea, and why we read what we read. Both from Terry Ambrose! Terry doesn’t remember some things—but he knows he remembers others. And that has made all the difference.

Try to Remember?

    By Terry Ambrose

I don't remember my childhood.

There, I've said it. My mom was one of those people who knew every detail of hers. She remembered the cross-country trips when her father moved the family back and forth between Connecticut and California—yes, multiple times. She remembered the antics of her brothers. Even her dog Brandy. She remembered the highs and the lows. Me? I have only snippets—and few at that. It's not age; I've always been this way. And that's how I really upset my mom.

There was a day a few years before my mom's death when we were talking about her childhood. I made a comment about not remembering my own and she asked if I could recall all of the stories she'd read to me when I was young. Nope. Nothing. I can't recall ever seeing her so ticked off.  My mom was a librarian in her younger days. She loved books and put in tremendous effort to make sure I did, too.

I miss not having memories of her reading me to sleep or taking me to new and wondrous places through someone else's words. The good news is, while I don't remember those experiences, I know they happened. Because I love books and reading and, yes, writing.

My mom's efforts paid off and are quite likely one reason why I was such an easy mark in 1995. I was working for a municipal utility at the time. One of our board members, an older man I respected greatly, approached me and asked if I would join his local Kiwanis club. Uh, a what? Oh, community service. Helping kids. Let's see…I was busy. Worked long hours. Didn't have time for those weekly lunch meetings. My list of excuses went on, but I did agree to join him for one lunch. Which became two. And, before I knew it, I was saying, "I do."

In May 2012, I interviewed Hank about her participation in an event to raise money for Jumpstart. In the interview, she said, “Without books, kids grow up with slammed doors, missed opportunities, and clipped wings, right? If you can’t read, if you can’t lose yourself in a book—that’s the definition of tragedy. So it was absolutely glorious to be in a packed ballroom with those who spend their lives devoted to making sure kids are ready to flourish.”

The concept of writers supporting literacy resonated deeply with me for two reasons. First, I'd been involved in community service projects for ten years and the concept of paying back—or forward, depending upon how you define it—is now ingrained in me. But, on a deeper level, the conversation with my mom wouldn't let go. The question was, what to do about it? The obvious answer—write a book.

(HANK: And here comes the brilliant idea.)

TERRY: In October 2014, "Paradise, Passion, Murder: 10 Tales of Mystery from Hawai‘i" was born. The concept was simple. Assemble some writers. Create an anthology. Give all the money to charity. Simple, right? In truth, it wasn't so bad because we were all passionate about helping others learn to read.

Our writing team includes JoAnn Bassett, Gail Baugniet, Frankie Bow, Kay Hadashi, Laurie Hanan, Jill Marie Landis, AJ Llewellyn, Toby Neal, and CW Schutter.

Most of our stories are about characters from our existing series. We’ll take you from the Big Island to the North Shore of Kaua’i, where you’ll find the Tiki Goddess Bar. Our characters’ stories involve family drama, Hawaiian legends and history, and everyone’s favorite subject, murder. Whether you want a funny locked-room mystery on a tour bus on the far side of Maui or a prison breakout with an unwilling escapee, we’ve got them all.

All proceeds go directly to Read Aloud America, a Hawai’i 501.c.3 organization dedicated to improving literacy in the Aloha State. "Paradise, Passion, Murder" is available in soft cover, e-book, and audio formats. You can learn more about the project on hawaiianmystery.com.

So now, I have two questions. First, are you one of those people who remembers everything from your childhood? Or, are you more like me with only snippets of the past filed away?

 Secondly, who, or what, influenced you to read? Did you just pick up a book and get hooked? Was there someone who nurtured you?

HANK: Do I remember my childhood?  Ah, kind of. Somewhat. I have—snapshots. I really wish I remembered more.  

What influenced  me? Two things. One, the vast bookshelves at our house. I could read anything I wanted. (Though I briefly got in trouble for reading the James Bond books at age, what, thirteen?)  And two—I need the thank my vast unpopularity. All I did was read. Those characters were often my only friends!

How about you, Reds?

*************************

Terry Ambrose writes the McKenna Mystery series, the License to Lie thriller series, and writes for the Lei Crime Kindle World. He’s currently working on mystery novellas featuring a Magnum, PI wannabe and the perennially snarky McKenna. Much like his protagonist, Terry’s many years of chasing deadbeats and repossessing cars taught him many valuable life lessons such as—always keep your car in the garage.

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Paradise-Passion-Murder-Mystery-Hawaii-ebook/dp/B017KY86ZY/

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/paradise-passion-murder-terry-ambrose/1123121343?ean=2940152513257

Confessions of a Librarian

“Librarians are the coolest people out there doing the hardest job out there on the frontlines. And every time I get to encounter or work with librarians, I'm always impressed by their sheer awesomeness.”
― Neil Gaiman

“[Librarians] are subversive. You think they're just sitting there at the desk, all quiet and everything. They're like plotting the revolution, man. I wouldn't mess with them.” 
― Michael Moore


SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: Libraries are one of the last bastions of civilization. And libraries would be nothing but stacks of books without librarians. On a more personal level, I know I'm the person and writer I am today because a very special librarian named Mrs. Eizabeth Lewin (now retired), of the North Tonawanda Public Library — who saw a bored kid who'd read her way out of the children's section, and gave me an adult library card and the book Jane Eyre. I never looked back.

But what do librarians really do? I must confess that I have a few images in mind when it comes to librarians. One is the stereotypical mean, shushing librarian. Then there's Marian, the Librarian, from The Music Man, of course:

And then there's Noah Wylie:

But, recently, I was able to spend time with Jennifer Stock, who's the director of a library in Pennsylvania, as she organized a tea for her library's book club readers of MR. CHURCHILL'S SECRETARY and an author talk. First, she never stopped moving. She never stopped multitasking. And she never sat down, I don't think, ever. And she did it all with a smile on her face and the grace of Cora, Countess of Grantham at Downton Abbey. (And, if you're wondering, she does read extensively — but all on her own, not the library's, time.)

I'm hoping that you, like me, are curious about what our intrepid librarians really do (hint: not just check out books.)

Please welcome Librarian Extraordinaire Jennifer Stock! 

JENNIFER STOCK: Susan Elia MacNeal asked if I would write “a day in the life of a librarian”, to which I happily agreed.

I am the director of a small to medium sized library in the suburbs of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. My library is one of 26 member libraries in a county system that shares materials, databases and delivery services to all of our library card-holding residents. A typical day finds me at the library by 8:15, turning on lights and powering up the computers. I’ll check that the cash drawer is set for the day, and

record the receipts of fines and fees from the day before. Those fines and fees are quite important to keep the library running. My co-workers, a children’s librarian and a library technical assistant, arrive by 9:00, and we’ll catch up on yesterday’s happenings, today’s plans, or recent Downton Abbey episodes. There are holds lists to run and requests to search for, and overdue notices to generate. One of us will empty the book drop that’s located at our front entrance.

At 10:00, we’ll unlock the front door and let our patrons inside, and the county system’s book delivery van will arrive soon with today’s haul, typically 2-3 boxes of requests and returns. The circulation desk will come alive with the arrival of this shift’s volunteer, a rotation of 50-60 people who work 2-3 hours throughout the week. They handle checking in and out materials, reserving public computer terminals, releasing print-jobs and general questions. Mothers with young children head downstairs for the storytime that begins at 10:15, and a tutor from the local literacy center meets his student in our front reference room for a lesson. The library tech will start processing interlibrary loans and cataloging any new books that may have arrived the previous day.

The public computer terminals in the adult area see sporadic use until the regulars arrive just after noon. Users check email and their Facebook accounts, search job listings, sign up for healthcare, or start their IRS tax filings. The afternoon also brings in the couple who reads the newspapers together in the fiction room, and the couple who split up: one takes a computer and the other heads to the puzzle table. There’s always a puzzle to put together, and we recently moved some shelving closer to that table to hold all the puzzles that patrons bring in to complete. Students arrive after school and head for the teen room, which has its own computer (and a door to contain the volume). Often the kids are just hanging out, but a core group of tween girls will gather each week to do their math homework upstairs in the nonfiction area.

At 4:30, I’ll open the book drop and start the rounds of letting our users know that we’re closing at 5:00. We’ll re-open again from 7:00 to 9:00 with our part-time reference librarian and volunteers, but it’s the end of the day for the children’s librarian, library tech and myself.

I think I became a librarian because I love the written word, and connecting people to information in all its forms. I formulate my monthly book orders with great care, purchasing 30-35 books, knowing I have only so much money to spend for the adult materials in fiction and nonfiction. (A friend from library school works in the collections management department of a large metropolitan library, and we met recently and laughed at the wide gap between our purchasing policies. He’ll buy 36 copies of one title!) I run the day-time book club that meets the last Wednesday of the month, and hold bi-monthly book talks called “Tea with Jen” to inform folks of new releases, particular series or just plain good books that I think they’d enjoy reading (lots of recommendations of Jungle Red authors). 

My job may be challenging at times, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.    

SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: Thank you so much, Jennifer, and thank you to all the librarians out there, who help make the world a better place. 

Do you have a favorite librarian? Or a childhood or school librarian who made an indelible impression on you? Please let us know in the comment section. Jen is working at her library today, but is going to make time to drop in and chat with us!