Ever had an unflattering photo making the rounds on social media? This happens to libraries, too. A valued (and justifiably frustrated) customer tweeted an image of the library's copy of Flowers for Algernon open to display facing pages, both thoroughly scribbled with blue ink.
Any parent would recognize the style as that of a child young enough to have believed that he/she was producing something pretty or entertaining. We expressed our regrets to the alert library patron and tagged the record so the damaged item can be taken out of circulation and replaced when it's returned.
These things happen. This anecdote doesn't just remind us what understanding customers we have; it also endorses the practicality of e-books. The library's digital books (Overdrive) are never late, lost, returned to the wrong library, or defaced.
On the other hand, library e-books frequently cost much more than the corresponding print editions, and some desired new titles aren't offered for library purchase and sharing, only to individual buyers. And, of course, so many backlist titles aren't available in digital format.
The perfect borrowing scenario (everything available for free on demand in pristine condition in one's preferred format) doesn't exist. But most of us appreciate and profit from the challenge of seeking out multiple formats. Readers who extol the convenience of collecting e-books and reading on mobile devices should certainly check out the library's Overdrive choices. If a particular title isn't offered there (or is checked out and you're in a rush), purchase from one's favorite online vendor may be the way to go. But remember: that title may be offered in print or audio at the library--at no cost to the borrower.
We've frequently chatted with customers who express delight with their e-readers--and then exit the library with an armload of print and possibly a Playaway or two.
In honor of National Poetry Month, here (with apologies to Robert Frost and his wonderful "The Road Not Taken") is my view of cost-effective reading: "The Savings Not Overlooked":
New novels were praised on a site I admire
But aware that if I bought them all
My wallet would suffer, I required
Of myself a solution, library-inspired
An alternative to financial downfall.
I then recalled Overdrive with borrowing free,
Which grants unto patrons a fourteen-day turn
With no risk of late fees. Then I could foresee
That no-cost e-reading would work handily---
No drawbacks or issues that I could discern.
But wait--for some titles, publishers may elect
To limit their access to just single buyers.
In which case it's savvy my search to direct
Back to print where there's frankly much more to select.
(If you read in both formats, success rates are higher.)
As for purchasing books: if they're masterfully penned,
Or for gifts or discussions, I'll pay Barnes and Noble
(Or Half-Price or Book Nook) glad, in the end,
For multiple options. What I recommend:
Exploit all resources--retail, print, and mobile.
April's first fifteen days may represent other priorities for you, but this is National Poetry Month. The Academy of American Poets website offers a multitude of ways to celebrate, including Poem in Your Pocket Day (4/24).
For an enjoyable and non-intimidating local occasion, consider the poetry reading at Round Rock Public Library. Co-sponsored by the Baca Center's Great Books Discussion Group and the library, this event features readings by poets and those who appreciate them. Each participant is invited to bring his/her own work or a favorite authored by someone else, well-known or otherwise (limit five minutes per speaker)--1:00 P.M. on Tuesday, April 29.
Having attended in previous years, I long ago put this on my calendar. And I am already scouting for my contribution (which probably should not be another Billy Collins selection, just to prove my awareness of other voices). As for the other option--presenting an original work--I annually consider and reject it for the benefit of all. This untitled composition explains why:
A poet lives inside each of us
some say; research has not proven otherwise.
But this line of inquiry bodes ill for me.
Confronted with the question by data-gathering types sporting lab coats and clipboards
I could only reply
(1) Evidently not, in my case
(2) Unless maybe one does--
unrecognizable as such
due to lack of talent
and a wretched sense of timing.
How else to explain the amalgam of
a mythic trickster
and a night-laboring elf
who ventures out of elected obscurity to engineer bizarre scenarios?
If I'm provisioned with a sparkling, quiescent page and comfortable chair
a setting meant to lure my thoughts into memorable self-revelation
this perverse force beams a defiant stare.
Elegantly miming a zipper sealing his lips, he retreats
perhaps pausing to brush the air with his clearly NOT ink-stained fingers, signalling later!
Or he may not. Regardless, he is gone. vanished. useless.
rested from non-exertion
he effects guest appearances on occasions
which I probably need not explain
require no creative expression and may only uncomfortably accommodate it.
He gleefully piles on evocative
in the conversational space allocated for one workmanlike noun:
shadows on neighbors' roofs
newly installed gardening mulch
comparative hues of paper being considered for promotional brochures.
In tribute to such commonplace views
something compels me to to spontaneously apply metaphors where labels should adhere
thus manufacturing poetry's unpopular distant cousin: TMI.
What if I never again bothered to bestow
a serene space
for my inner poet?
Fingertips on dust-furred tabletops
tapered twigs and an expanse of sand
a sad golf pencil and the back view of a grocery list:
only such grudging supplies
offered during hurried and inconvenient moments
would abet literary output.
Which would improve first--
For someone who pokes fun at shallow social networking relationships (one click and you're a "friend") I am awfully quick to claim comradeship with noted authors.
Without demonstrating equal talent, one can still bask in the approbation of kindred opinions.
Masterfully expressing viewpoints I share this week: Rebecca Mead and Annabelle Gurwitch. Mead's My Life in Middlemarch is balm for the souls of George Eliot admirers who love the notably lengthy Middlemarch, often dismissed as dry and irrelevant. Paralleling events and impressions from her own life with those of Eliot and her characters, New Yorker writer Mead conveys the novel's timeless appeal. But then, I've always been a fan.
Gurwitch's new essay collection on the perils of middle age-- I See You Made an Effort--has just fallen into my clutches, so I haven't spent quality time with it yet. Reviewers deem the edgy commentaries "rollicking" and "hilarious". In the library professions, aging is unfashionable these days, so I smiled to note Bob Odenkirk's assessment: "a book about the worst thing a person can do in America: get older".
Among Ms. Gurwitch's other writing and comedic accomplishments you may recall her stint as co-host of TBS' Dinner and a Movie a few years back--which represents a further opportunity for me to glom onto a proven concept: why not suggest themed pairings featuring library stuff?
Some of these resources will be new to your entertainment menu:
1920s DINNER AND DVD:
Try Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, based on Kerry Greenwood's Phryne Fisher books, with high production values and authentic vintage costumes and settings. You can sample foods trendy in the Twenties (see Food Timeline). Or, search Los Angeles Public Library's Digital Menu Collection with date 192*.
THE ROCKWELL EXPERIENCE:
Read Deborah Solomon's new American Mirror: The Life and Art of Norman Rockwell and enjoy (what else?) Apple Pie; here you'll find step-by-step instructions, each stage illustrated.
WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE:
That's what Mango Languages calls its latest feature, classic films offered in conjunction with your language lessons.
The Saving Mr. Banks soundtrack CD set includes previously unreleased pre-demo recordings by the Sherman brothers. According to Richard Sherman, "Tuppence a Bag"/"Feed the Birds" was Walt Disney's favorite song. You could pair a project with Walt's pick: listen, then search the library's Hobbies & Crafts Reference Center for "bird feeders".
Read The Bohemians: Mark Twain and the San Francisco Writers Who Reinvented American Literature by Ben Tarnoff and savor some of Twain's favorite foods. According to Menus from History by Janet Clarkson, there were many; Twain's list from A Tramp Abroad includes at least three iterations of bacon, fresh seafood, a spectrum of the bread/pone/biscuit family, and "all sorts of American pastry".
Explore (book or audio CD) Talk Like TED: The 9 Public Speaking Secrets of the World's Top Minds, "the ultimate guide to public speaking"; then view a TED Joy of Eating segment.
Input "steampunk" in the library's Catalog Quick Search for a Steampunk fiction read. From there, consider the definition of "Steampunk Cuisine", perhaps even entertaining with "Tips for a Retro-Industrial Steampunk Party". And there's always RRPL's Small Engine Reference Repair Center...
Perhaps we should make TCM's Robert Osborne an honorary library staffer. He enhanced a customer interaction this week.
The caller queried, "I don't owe any fines, right?" Extra-busy recently, she'd lost track of time and required confirmation that nothing was overdue.
Well, you know what can happen when a basketful of items are checked out and the date due sneaks by. Little 20-cent late fees multiply--so she owed a few dollars. (Any library insider will tell you that late fees exist only to incentivize returning so everyone can share
tax-funded materials equitably. If all items came back on time, thus generating zero fines, we'd celebrate. And so would everyone who's ever been obliged to wait longer than necessary for his/her turn...)
"Not what I wanted to hear," she admitted, "but then who could afford to buy all those things if the library didn't have them?"
Here's where Mr. Osborne comes in. The customer brightened just then, remembering her brilliant acquisition from Friends of the Round Rock Public Library's Book Nook. She had chanced upon Osborne's 75 Years of the Oscars: The Official History of the Academy Awards and snagged it for two dollars! While that copy is outdated by library standards--we now offer Osborne's 85 Years of the Oscars --that once-costly trove of photos, trivia, and insider reportage is still "sooo entertaining" for the new owner and her friends.
Traffic to the Book Nook continues to increase, due to word-of-mouth testimonials like this. For $2 (paperbacks, $1) savvy customers walk away with items in at least good condition; some Nook donations are brand-new. Book lovers indulge in low-cost collecting; deserving volumes get new homes.
One Book Nook customer transforms pages into eye-catching paper wreaths.
I believe it's correct to classify her inventive art as upcycling or repurposing rather than recycling. Oxforddictionaries.com defines upcycle as "reuse (discarded objects or material) in such a way as to create a product of a higher quality or value than the original". And upcycling has its own sub-categories, e.g. ,trashion.
In the introduction to his Upcycling: Create Beautiful Things with the Stuff You Already Have, Danny Seo advocates for eco-friendly concepts utilizing materials already on hand and salvaging from thrift stores and flea markets for this "higher form of recycling". He should know: his guide features tie-dye using Sharpies, robot figures made from pots and pans, and a potato chip bag mirror, for starters.
Delve into the library's Hobbies & Crafts Reference Center with keywords upcycl* or repurpose*, and you'll discover photos and how-to's for designs like shelves, tables, and chairs devised from vintage suitcases; a chair fabricated from old CDs; a designer-look necklace strung from broken jewelry; a mid-century-inspired clock born of a vinyl record; and loads of other outside-the-box notions.
A sampling of more upcycling/repurposing brilliance online:
Upcycle That (founded on Earth Day 2012)
Mother Earth News' Reusing Things: 100 Ideas of How to Reuse Commonly Thrown Away Items
Bob Vila's Repurposing for Creative Storage Solutions
HGTV's 25 Ways to Use Your Old Stuff
Blogger Gail Wilson's My Repurposed Life
Cashmere sweaters account for a surprising share of repurposing activity; cup holders, baby attire, pot holders, and bracelets represent the tip of the iceberg.
Do you fret about possessing too much of this pricey knitwear, underutilized due to slight damage or un-trendiness? Me neither.
We don't operate within Downton Abbey-like social strata, and no impenetrable physical barrier (that we know of) seals off the library's first floor from the second. Still, top-floor reference librarians go for long stretches of time without speaking to first-floor youth librarians.
And we like them! We just stay busy and fail to cross paths.
When our schedules eventually coincide, we share reading suggestions. Staffers who work with grownups love a top-drawer children's book as much as youth staff relish an accomplished adult novel. Colleague David--he works on both floors--recommended a Bluebonnet Award winner to me last week: The Strange Case of Origami Yoda by Tom Angleberger. Sure, I love a great title (so this story had me at "Origami Yoda") but of course what has impressed critics, judges, and readers about this tale is the self-empowerment achieved by a sixth grader who overcomes social ineptitude by crafting a paper Yoda puppet to dispense advice to fellow students.
Brilliant. We may forget that everyone else finds interpersonal issues difficult, too, but a perfectly timed solution is a universally acknowledged prize.
We don't label any particular section in the library as "SELF-HELP". At a bookstore, such a sign would guide you to volumes fostering higher earning power; discovery of the perfect life partner; acquisition of beneficial habits; clutter dispersal, etc. Our library offers those, too, along with databases that cardholders can use even when the library is closed; free tax filing assistance; free digital downloads; and many other options. Even fiction books (see above) can prove wonderfully life-enhancing.
For libraries, SELF-HELP could serve as front-door signage.
Some advice has held up admirably for centuries. Consider Polonius' tips on fashion investment in Hamlet: even Tim Gunn couldn't improve upon those. But lessons can become outmoded or at least suffer from that perception. Imagine basing your efforts to achieve teen social success on a 1950s popularity manual!
That's precisely what 15-year-old Maya Van Wagenen did. Intrigued by model Betty Cornell's Teenage Popularity Guide, Van Wagenen devised an experiment: try out some of those Eisenhower-era tips while keeping a detailed diary of the experience. Whatever social benefits Van Wagenen derived from the project, she can add a $300,000 book deal to the sum. Her manuscript, now titled Popular: Vintage Wisdom for a Modern Geek, is due out April 15. Even better, Cornell's inspirational volume is also being republished that day.
No need to wait until April for newly released books offering all manner of guidance, though; here are a few titles I just spotted on the New Nonfiction shelf:
Arduino Robot Bonanza
Decoding Your Dog
Man Up: A Practical Guide to Being a Dad
Compelling People: The Hidden Qualities That Make Us Influential
200 Skills Every Cook Must Have
Smart Tribes: How Teams Become Brilliant
The Religions Book: Big Ideas Simply Explained
Online, you can access expert tips--even videos--on a very timely topic. Produced locally with Round Rock concerns in mind, Water Spot, City Water Conservation Program Coordinator Jessica Woods' amazingly helpful blog, offers advice and strategies that none of us can afford to miss.
In Valerie Martin's new The Ghost of the Mary Celeste, famed British author and Sherlock Holmes creator Arthur Conan Doyle is touring the United States. Though gracious among his fans, Doyle finds every dinner, interview, lecture, or appearance to be wearyingly predictable: the American penchant for steam heat will render him miserably warm; he will be implored to "bring back Sherlock Holmes"; he will yet again be solicited for his impressions of America.
One can sympathize; Americans' love for cozy interior climates and Sherlock Holmes--and their self-assurance--are documented.
And so is the Mary Celeste, an actual American ship discovered intact and adrift east of the Azores in 1872 with captain, crew, and the captain's wife and daughter missing. The vessel's enigmatic fate inspired an 1884 tale by Doyle titled "J. Habakuk Jephson's Statement". Appearing in the well-regarded Cornhill magazine, the story (though not attributed to Doyle at the time) paid the author well. Since the account plays a role in Martin's multifaceted novel, readers, too, are handsomely rewarded.
Doyle's melodramatic yarn is just one player in the story encompassing a tragic seafaring clan, a heartrendingly tender couple, a resolute female journalist, a long-missing diary, and a charismatic young woman seemingly mystified by her ability to receive messages from the dead.
The ghost in the title isn't one that haunts the vessel; it has more to do with the spirit of America at the time: the national obsession with psychic phenomena such as "mediums" who allegedly bridged communication between the living and the dead. Both sea voyages and the 19th-century Spiritualism Movement attracted participants willing to venture beyond their elements--some merely extracting adventure from the experience, others forever losing their way.
I particularly enjoyed Martin's description of Pleasant Lake, a sort of Spiritualist resort, complete with séances, clairvoyant physicians, magnetic healers, and spirit photographers.
Viewing artifact photos of that time, we could scoff at the obvious fakery employed to produce depictions of, say, a widower shadowed by a faint image of his wife's "spirit"--or we could imagine how a lesser degree of sophistication combined with extreme grief could bring the possessor to find comfort in them. Though fictional, Martin's book reflects significant historical research and thus affords an authentic sense of this era in American history.
Some elements reflect our consciousness today. You need only glance at a TV schedule or new book display for evidence of our fascination with the paranormal. And as for creative attempts to portray a life beyond fact--check out all the strategically chosen, digitally altered, and idealized shots featured on Facebook profiles.
I'm not sure what it says about me that my Facebook profile shot is a Mad Men-style cartoon of a sheath-clad, bespectacled lady clutching a coffee cup. A friend commented, "You do know that's not very flattering, right?" I could only respond in the immortal words of Pigpen in A Charlie Brown Christmas: "On the contrary--I didn't think I looked that good."
For this significant anniversary, choose when you wish to observe it. (Don't try this at home; a wedding date is a wedding date.)
With World War I's centenary, the approach makes sense. Nations entered into the conflict over time, and some locales are noted for one definitive event. The city of Sarajevo plans its commemoration for June 21-28, 2014. France anticipated the generally agreed-upon remembrance dates of 2014-2018 by opening a new World War I museum in 2011. Turkey's "Anzac Day" event--April 25, 2015--will mark 100 years since Gallipoli.
Check the Centennial Commemoration of the United States in World War I website, and you'll find notes about the organization but no events yet (U.S. declared war in April 1917.)
Publishers mobilized their forces in advance to equip us with insightful reads. Classics like Barbara Tuchman's The Guns of August and Eric Maria Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front are being reissued. Margaret McMillan's The War That Ended Peace: The Road to 1914 appears on several recommended reading lists.
Librarian Chris, who selects RRPL's nonfiction history resources, suggests these recent library acquisitions: The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in1914 by Christopher Clark; Lawrence in Arabia: War, Deceit, Imperial Folly and the Making of the Modern Middle East by Scott Anderson; Catastrophe 1914: Europe Goes to War by Max Hastings; The Great War: A Photographic Narrative by Mark Holborn and Hilary Roberts; To End All Wars: A Story of Loyalty and Rebellion, 1914-1918 by Adam Hochschild; and The Last of the Doughboys: the Forgotten Generation and Their Forgotten World War by Richard Rubin.
Among a host of intriguing World War I novels, Jennifer Robson's Somewhere in France follows a British aristocrat who defies her family to train as an ambulance driver. P.S. Duffy's The Cartographer of No Man's Land considers physical and psychological battles through the eyes of a sensitive Nova Scotia boat captain/artist. Anita Shreve's Stella Bain also portrays a female ambulance driver whose case of what we would now label Post Traumatic Stress Disorder evokes the war's aftermath--horribly mutilated survivors, long-term care veteran care, early studies of "shell shock".
Sir Michael Howard observes, "...arguably, the Great War was one of the greatest tragedies of all of them because it was so inconclusive." While much of the unfinished business was political, families in all echelons of society faced lifetimes bereft of husbands, fathers, sweethearts, colleagues. Some of the most affecting Great War fiction considers postwar years 1918 into the next decade. P.S. Duffy reflects that an understanding of the 1920s requires an appreciation for World War I: "That hedonistic, devil-may-care, caution to the wind sense all comes from a sense of, "Well, we could all die tomorrow." "
Debut novelist Anna Hope's Wake memorably spans five days in November 1920, ending with the dedication of the Cenotaph and interment of the Unknown Warrior in Westminster Abbey. Three British women unknown to one another mourn a dead son and fiancé and a shattered, mute brother. They are unaware that their lives intersect as the Warrior's body is collected in France, ceremoniously transported to England, and laid to final rest.
The Twenties represent a tough sort of hopefulness. Wake invokes a slang term popular among the jazz-loving young adult set; it's intended as a compliment for anything beautiful, impressive, or admirable: "Killing!"
Jennifer Lawrence and I face different challenges.
I worry about income tax filing and furry rooftop intruders at home and maxed-out Fiction shelving at work. Poor Jennifer, on the other hand, is tasked with maintaining her ever-increasing trove of award statuettes, determining which enviable film roles to accept, and choosing designer gowns that don't elicit critics' comparisons to Ariel's makeshift frock in The Little Mermaid.
Here's what we have in common: appreciation for less conspicuous films and books.
Certainly, high-grossing productions earn their popularity for good reasons. But the artists behind those thriving endeavors are already amply recompensed. They don't need me. When I bestow my patronage on quieter, more esoteric projects or the work of newcomers, I derive satisfaction from the sense of having somehow encouraged them.
Interviewers report Ms. Lawrence's initial reluctance to play Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games, citing her love of independent film. Lawrence's ultimate acceptance of the role was prompted by her "fondness for strong-spirited characters".
I imagine Jennifer would be intrigued by two resolute types I've lately encountered. Ronald Frame's recent Havisham and M.D. Waters' Archetype (available next month) both consider the plight of a woman with potential far exceeding the prescribed behavior of her society.
But these aren't just chick books (not that this would be a bad thing...). Havisham invents the backstory that fans of Dickens' Great Expectations have hankered for. We know that Miss Havisham still wears the gown sewn for a wedding cancelled at the last minute, but haven't we wished for more insights, speculating as to the personality of the young bride-to-be? In Frame's telling, young Catherine Havisham's exposure to wider society is curtailed by parental and economic pressures. When eventually confronted with dilemmas
native to her privileged class, she is thus lacking in precisely the social context that could have informed her decisions. Today, with narrowly focused informational channels limiting our own view if we let them, Catherine is both a cautionary tale and an engrossing character
M.D. Waters' debut, Archetype, variously described as "speculative", "thrilling", "gothic", and "dystopian", delivers themes reminiscent of The Handmaid's Tale and The Stepford Wives. Beautiful protagonist Emma, like Catherine, also has wedding issues: she doesn't
recall having a husband--or even understanding "husband" as a concept when the story opens. You see, Emma suffered a terrible "accident" but now is daily gaining strength and comprehension, thanks to the unrelentingly attentive staff at a "hospital" where the entire floor is devoted to her care (Emma's husband Declan is very rich and very powerful). As the sinister quotation marks above hint, all this does not signal good fortune for Emma. She, like Catherine, lacks access to all the facts. So far. Just keep turning those pages...
Jennifer could tackle either of these thought-provoking roles. Both struggle with misdirected desire, have branding" issues, and are viewed as commodities in a male-dominated society; both are alternately tantalized and tormented by memories.
Two final thoughts: First, is it just my imagination, or don't both book covers suggest graphic representation of the author's surname? Second, if you're an indie film follower like Jennifer, check out the library's IndieFlix access online.
As of this writing, IRS' Facebook page has been "Liked" 17,878 times.
Surely it's OK to express surprise. Noting that Round Rock Public Library has 1,687 Likes and we're SO much nicer wouldn't be quite as appropriate. And of course further speculation (e.g., how improbable it would be that anyone would un-Like the IRS) would verge on snarkiness.
Whenever I meet with an invitation to "Like us on Facebook"--particularly from a multinational corporation or dignified institution of long standing--I sense a neediness equated more with seventh grade than with the business world.
But perhaps I shouldn't be so quick to differentiate. Seventh grade is tough--notable increases in workload; changing relationship paradigms; heightened competitiveness; expectation for personal career/vocational forecasting. And of course the need to be liked is paramount.
Seventh grade success strategies could serve one admirably throughout life. And the internet affords so many useful tools.
Remember this 7th-grade artifact: the diary that one used to record impressions, hopes, concerns, lessons learned? Those documentary journals exist in vibrant profusion online these days (though with less verbiage devoted to the cute boy in homeroom). We call them blogs.
Consider this sampling of online resources for addressing 7th grade/life realities:
People like savvy communicators: TweetQuereet analyzes key interests and allows you to receive your most relevant tweets in a daily digest. SecretInk enables you to send a message that can be read just once (before it self-destructs). Nextdoor, a great solution for neighborhood associations, facilitates a private network to share timely information ("for sale" alerts, etc.).
Yes, you are judged on appearance: Free photo editor Fotor offers clip art, special effects, a mosaic tool, collage and card capability. For your project or home or small business, try LogoGarden's free, simple-to-use tool to create a new logo. Weebly provides what you need to set up a free website or blog with a handy drag-and-drop editor.
The opposite sex is really interesting: Yes, but given the plethora of amazingly specific dating sites--for farmers, tall people, folks with red hair, Trekkies, Ivy League graduates, etc. etc--we'll set this topic aside in favor of...
Good habits pay off: Spend a few minutes every day to stimulate your mind (and satisfy your curiosity) with sites like Digital Public Library of America (virtual exhibits and over 2.4 million artifacts from museums and archives all over the country) and Today in History (which focuses on "one event each day which is put in a socio-cultural context".)
You don't have to know what you want to be when you grow up yet: But Occupational Outlook Handbook can advise you what training/certification is required for any career, also whether opportunities in that field will increase or diminish in the next few years.
People like those who can talk about what they like: NPR's First Listen offers the chance to hear movie soundtracks, indie bands, etc.before the street date. Forvo tells you how to pronounce words--not just in English and not just the ones in the dictionary; names and locations in the news are included. Reddit tracks trends and news on many, many topics.
As Jon Stewart observed, "The Internet is just a world passing notes around the classroom."
Thankfully, this malady is easier to cure than flu. I refer to CPF (Cookie Press Fixation, sometimes diagnosed as SCPA--Spritz Cookie Production Addiction). Having achieved nifty results with the dough-filled cookie gun, no baker can stop with a single batch. The affected individual is driven to mix batter and extrude edible holiday shapes until exhaustion sets in.
I was in the throes of CPF Sunday afternoon; two batches of cookies weren't sufficient. Eyes glazing and trigger hand twitching, I'd just gathered ingredients for multiple batches of cheese straws when my husband and daughter headed out to watch The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug. "Have fun!" I offered distractedly, clearing the cooling rack for my next fix.
Had I been in my right mind, they would also have heard, "and no need to share your insights afterward." But they know this already.
Despite repeated exposure to both print and film versions, I failed to bond with Lord of the Rings narrative or any single character therein. The LOTR gene must be absent from my DNA, or possibly I've expended all my interest on other worlds--Downton Abbey, Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series, etc.
But LOTR antipathy doesn't make me a bad person, right? I'm kind to animals; I make cookies (see above); I never say "Bah, humbug" or steal presents in Whoville.
And I'm eager to recap recommendations for books (unlike The Hobbit ) published in 2013, read in their entirety, and personally deemed top-notch.
Just preface each item with "If you like...":
...sensitive stories that inspire you to shout "Nooooo!" at the protagonist although you know he can't hear you, consider Indiscretion by Charles Dubow.
...riveting prose and a plot that can't be adequately described without "gritty" or "visceral", try Goat Mountain by David Mann.
...Maeve Binchy, you shouldn't miss A Week in Winter. (Published posthumously, this is the beloved Irish author's last novel; look for Chestnut Street--short stories--in 2014.)
...peeks behind the arts scene in Belle Époque Paris, you should check out Where the Light Falls by Katherine Keenum and The Painted Girls by Cathy Marie Buchanan. (Buchanan's website reported in November that Painted Girls "has been optioned for a television series by the CW Network and CBS Television".)
...dark, creepy, gothic narratives for grownups, you'll appreciate Rustication by Charles Palliser.
...delightful essays by delightful people, pick up Elinor Lipman's I Can't Complain: (All Too) Personal Essays.
...character novels with an added dimension of suspense, look for The Paris Architect by Charles Belfoure and The Last Summer of the Camperdowns by Ellizabeth Kelly.
...The Big Bang Theory, Graeme Simsion's The Rosie Project is a must-read.
...experiencing life in another decade, try The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls by Anton Disclafani (1930s) and Fin & Lady by Cathleen Schine (1960s in Greenwich Village).
...garnering insider expertise within a compelling story, you'll appreciate Peggy Heskith's Telling The Bees.
...Downton Abbey, don't miss Fay Weldon's trilogy: Habits of the House 2012/Long Live the King/The New Countess, both 2013.
...a tale of a good girl gone bad, get The Other Typist by Suzanne Rindell. (In the 1920's Prohibition setting, our good girl may be simply realizing her potential...)
...an unreliable (what an understatement) narrator in an exotic setting, look into The People in the Trees by Hanya Yanagihara.
...reading about a family as complicated as your own, join the many admirers of The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri.
...someone writes another version of that classic holiday poem.
This one celebrates downtown Round Rock (don't forget Christmas Family Night on Dec. 6) and Rocksssanne, the library's beloved (and intrepid) snake mascot.
*** Rocksssanne's Christmas Eve Ramble ***
‘Tis the night before Christmas, and Round Rock is silent,
Especially downtown--no parked cars, no clients
Main Street is dormant, no citizens stirring,
‘Til dawn on that holiday fondly recurring.
With offices, cafes, and ArtSpace all drowsing,
The library's not even open for browsing.
(Though our online resources you always can use
Any day, any hour, to inform and amuse.)
The staff is all home in their festive abodes,
Slumbering on, gifts already bestowed.
For Santa made Round Rock his first stop this year.
He's checked twice, delivered, and then disappeared.
Folks won't, ‘til the dawning light, rise and exclaim
Over Santa's largesse--books, gadgets, and games.
And back at the library, gladly detected,
Is the strange stash of goodies that one soul expected.
Rockssssanne, the library snake, wakes to find
The tastiest tidbits to which she's inclined.
Suffice it to say they're for snakes apropos
But we won't elaborate--you don't want to know!
The tower of treats, brightly gift-wrapped and stacked
Reached so high that it caused the cage top to unlatch
Rocksssanne slithers out, leaves her trove unattended
To pursue an adventure she's oft comprehended.
For once--just this once--she can finally explore
The joys of the top floor unknown heretofore.
Though she cherishes kids and her comfy confinement,
Rocksssanne yearns for novel new views and refinement.
Her journey is trickier than she'd supposed,
With obstacles previously undisclosed:
The stairs are so tall--and someone spilled glitter
That sticks to her skin. But she isn't a quitter.
She propels herself upward, so flush with ambition
The staircase becomes just a blurred apparition.
As she glimpses the stations where patrons compute,
To Rocksssanne, they symbolize forbidden fruit.
Pausing just on the brink of the second-floor landing,
Reptilian intellect quickly expanding,
Rocksssanne spies the shelves and the tall reference desk--
But then hears a sound both aghast and grotesque.
"EEEEEyikes!" cries Michelle, who's come to retrieve
A gift she had purchased and not meant to leave.
She's startled to find both the open snake coop
And, all up the stairs, golden glittering swoops.
"I'm busted!" thinks poor Rocksssanne, hastening home
Already regretting her whimsical roam.
She'd never envisioned a scary invasion
Just a brief promenade on this merry occasion.
The library director gives her a grin
And pats the cage lid, now the python's within.
"No harm done," she says, "All that great information
Is meant to lure minds out of dull hibernation."
Keying in the alarm code, she stops to express,
"I admire your example, I freely confess.
For folks here in Round Rock--kids, grownups, and ‘tweens--
Let's all seek discoveries in 2014!"
What do you get when you mix a trendy (once upon a time) yellow and chrome dinette, sleek-fronted white cabinets, your grandmother's canister set, and gaudy, what-were-they-thinking wallpaper? It was simultaneously a kitchen and a Sparkling Sixties time capsule.
But the restaurant-grade stove had produced dinners for visiting heads of state, celebrities, and the family of the President of the United States.
The dozen or so folks in our tour group at LBJ's Texas White House ambled about thoughtfully, intent on the sights and insights offered by our guide. Someone pointed out the pie on the stovetop.
Yes, our guide confirmed, it was pecan. Background: President and Mrs. Kennedy were slated to visit the LBJ ranch following the visit to Dallas and event in Austin on November 22, 1963. Mrs. Davis, the Johnsons' cook, told that Jackie Kennedy had never tasted pecan pie, baked one for the occasion. As she removed it from the oven, the news bulletin flashed from Dallas. Staff and Secret Service men huddled together following the tragic proceedings via the small TV atop the fridge. The kitchen's clock registers 1:00 P.M.
The room fell silent we gazed at two unremarkable items--one on the wall and one in a pie tin--elevated from objects to icons because now they tell a story.
Along with the host of recent JFK publications, I've been especially attentive to new sources of iconic imagery this week. These all demonstrate wonderful visual shorthand:
Earth: The Definitive Visual Guide (2nd edition) DK Publishing, known for excellent graphics, collaborated with the Smithsonian Institution for this gorgeous volume. Science, geography, and history are so compellingly depicted that even those not usually drawn to these subjects should find this hefty tome a page-turner.
The Civil War in 50 Objects by Harold Holzer. For the 150th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, Holzer (Kirkus Reviews terms him "a modern dean of Civil War studies") selected fifty artifacts incisively reflecting the forces leading up to the war, the battles, and the aftermath. Quotations, anecdotes, and narrative accompany each photo; great for history and Civil War buffs.
ARKive. Judged "an awe-inspiring record of life on Earth" by Scout Report, this site features vibrant visuals and data on over 15,000 species, with content for educators and children.
Moments That Made the Movies by David Thomson. This one just came in; I'm not so patiently waiting for it to be processed. The title says it all; Publishers Weekly calls it "eminently browseable".
Kodachrome Memory: American Pictures 1972-1990 by Nathan Benn. It's still on order, but we're in for a treat. Wall Street Journal judges the images produced by the former National Geographic photographer "both timeless and particular".
Life in Color: National Geographic Photographs. This stunning collection reminds us that color produces its own emotional climate. In the foreword, Jonathan Adler cautions readers to "prepare for sensory overload." You'll see why.
Wouldn't these selections make marvelous holiday gifts?
During December, you'll see these and other present-worthy publications featured on the second floor book tower.
If two people in your workplace showed up outfitted in superhero costumes (it's not Halloween) how surprised would you be?
My sighting at the library did occur within a few days of trick-or-treat time. But the main point is that when I observed two Youth Services librarians thus attired, what first caught my notice were Janette's nifty earrings and Andrea's cute new glasses frame. The capes, logos, belts, etc. registered only on a secondary level.
Well, children's librarians are known for amazing exploits of programming and entertainment; their outfits were in character. Super people make difficult undertakings look easy.
It's fair to say that others we encounter on a daily basis could justifiably include flashy costumes in their wardrobes. Instead of Casual Fridays, we could have Cape Fridays...
Library colleague Tricia noted how unusual it is for a poetry book (Billy Collins' Aimless Love) to make the New York Times Bestseller list. This recognition--for producing selections so polished and accessible that thousands of Americans can overcome the perception that they aren't poetry readers--spotlights how heroic the literary gift for thought-distilling really is. Reading Billy Collins, you'll not only smile or sigh at the aptness of his phrasing--you'll want to try writing poetry yourself (this will only enhance appreciation for his effortless style). This Library Journal article notes other contemporary poets whose work you might also enjoy.
During Halloween festivities, we glimpsed some young customers flaunting super-heroic garb, but we all judged their parents to be the most cape-worthy. Juggling books, strollers, craft projects, schedules, and everything else on that day's agenda with aplomb, these multitasking moms and dads managed to appear calm and good-humored amid the chaos. That's no simple feat.
And those of us who work at the Reference Desk upstairs would definitely award volunteer Jacquie Wilson a cape embellished with a jewel-encrusted "GA" (the gems would have to be fake, the library craft closet is our only procurement resource). Jacquie is known as Genealogy Advisor--a role as day-saving as anything Marvel Comics ever dreamed up. Imagine: someone willing to listen raptly to your clan's history, then prescribe where and how you can fill in the missing twigs on your family tree. Like those Ancestry commercials that give the impression of instantaneous family tree discovery, Jacquie's searches tend to prove themselves fruitful more quickly than happens for lesser mortals.
Family history researchers will rightfully contend that genealogy is not for sissies. As Samuel Johnson observed, "What is easy is seldom excellent."
Another stalwart crew of aspirants--authors in the throes of National Novel Writing Month--would second Robert Kiyosaki's contention: "You have to be smart. The easy days are over." I'm sitting out this NaNoWriMo year but as a two-year veteran can attest to one of the great rewards of NaNo participation: after producing a 50,000 word novel in one sleep-deprived month, in December you'll certainly believe that easy days are here again.
"You were right!" I told my husband Monday evening. "You're not the only person in the world who thinks Buckaroo Bonzai is a great movie. I met the other guy today."
That would be Ernest Cline, author of the acclaimed Ready Player One, October's discussion choice for the Round Rock New Neighbors (Barnes and Noble) book group. Cline's ebullient commentary about his genre-bending novel, screenwriting, the cult film Fanboys (which he authored), publisher bidding wars, 80's pop culture, and the writing life in general kept attendees vastly entertained. Cline's appearance would have earned raves even had he not brought his DeLorean for attendees to explore and photograph themselves with--but he DID.
My enjoyment of this phenomenal author visit wavered just momentarily. Claudia, who nominated Ready Player One in the first place, mentioned that Wil Wheaton read the audiobook--which, I realized to my horror, I’d overlooked when selecting titles for the library (we have the print version, of course). Thanks to second chances and product inventory, both CD and Playaway versions are now on our October order lists. (Mr. Cline will also appear at the library’s International Games Day festivities.)
Also worthy of a re-think: Just A Pinch, an online recipe trove forwarded by City Communications Director Will Hampton. It seemed a nice enough recipe finder at first; then I tried several searches to appreciate its useful social networking functions as well (over 3.6 million site visits per month, more than 250,000 entries). The chicken recipe that Will found there and home-tested is one that my own family would love. I even found the exact brownie recipe -- Speedy Brownies -- that I swear by. It produces perfect texture every time and invites all manner of experimentation with toppings (try Andes Mint chips). The startling but endearing Halloween Spider Cookies were also "pinched" from Just A Pinch.
Which reminds me (you'll see why) of this overlooked and under-appreciated endeavor: Friends of the Round Rock Public Library. If you read that FOL is “an independent non-profit 501 (c) (3) corporation that supports the city-funded library”, you’ll be administratively enlightened without any sense of the fun and energy embodied by this crew.
You’ve likely enjoyed some FOL-funded features at the library: teen room shelving, the eye-catching Children’s Desk, traveling exhibits, special adult programs, summer reading program prizes, etc. Customers brag about the fabulous bargains they discover on second floor at the Book Nook—organized, re-stocked, and administered by FOL. Recycling at its best, Book Nook enables volumes to find new homes while generating profits to spend enhancing library users’ experiences.
We staffers love encountering Friends as they sort, stock, sell, strategize, and generally do amazing work. Precisely the kind of folks you’d want to hang out with, they are seeking talents you may possess—including but not limited to technical expertise for the website and assistance with Mystery night. Their special membership meeting, featuring Paige Morgan of Paige’s Bakehouse in Round Rock (she’ll demonstrate how to make and decorate holiday cake pops!) is coming up on November 12 at 7 p.m.Come take a look (or two).
No disrespect implied, but I've left witches and pumpkins behind, forging ahead to Thanksgiving mode this week. It's all due to Daniel Woodrell.
The Maid's Version, his brief but masterfully done novel, was on my Don't Return Home Without It list at Book Expo last spring. Alas, I came up empty-handed on that score--lots of Woodrell fans (the film Winter's Bone, with Jennifer Lawrence, was based on a Woodrell tale) at BEA.
But, thanks to a just-arrived review copy of the audio, I spent Saturday afternoon under the spell of Woodrell's memorable, tragic story: 42 citizens of a small town--including its most promising young folk--perish in a dreadful dance hall fire and explosion in 1929. Woodrell based his fictional rendition on an actual incident that occurred in 1928, resulting in approximately 30 deaths.
Four hours' worth of small-town intrigue (nice rural accents by the narrator, too) elapsed in a blur. I'm still thinking about that story with appreciation, melancholy scenarios and gory details included--and I find TV crime shows too disheartening to watch.
It's not just English-major respect for fine literary craftsmanship. It's the season. Along with the more obvious bounty of brisk air, family gatherings, and turning leaves, autumn carries an elegiac, somber sense of cyclical balance that humans probably require in regular doses, like vitamins.
Tragic episodes, like autumn, remind us what is important and what we're made of.
A survey of Book Movement ("The Insider's Guide to What Book Clubs are Reading Right Now") lists five great examples in its current Top 100--historical fiction and nonfiction--attesting to popularity of devastating themes: Allan Brennert's Molokai (leper colony); Erik Larson's The Devil in the White City (serial killings during Chicago World's Fair); debut author Hannah Kent's Burial Rites (accused murderer in Iceland); Jung Chang's Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China (political regimes); Geraldine Brook's Year of Wonders (plague in 1666).
I can vouch for all five. But this selection was new to me: The Lives They Left Behind: Suitcases from a State Hospital Attic. The title says it all. It's on order for the library.
Tragic stories aren't merely sad; literary definitions of "tragedy" include an element of human failing--moral weakness; character flaw; being overwhelmed by circumstance and demonstrating uncharacteristically poor judgment. Tragedies aren't so much rooted in evil as in humanity.
Consider these riveting real-life accounts from Round Rock Public Library's nonfiction shelves: Curse of the Narrows by Laura M. MacDonald (1917 Halifax explosion/tsunami/blizzard); City on Fire by Bill Minutaglio (1947 Texas City explosion); Dark Tide: The Great Boston Molasses Flood of 1919 by Stephen Puleo; Gone at 3:17... by David M. Brown (New London, Texas, school explosion); Isaac's Storm by Erik Larson (Galveston hurricane); The Immortal Ten: The Definitive Account of the 1927 Tragedy... by Todd Copeland (train-bus collision in Round Rock).
All demonstrate that catastrophe elicits bravery, selflessness, and concrete measures to prevent similar incidents in the future. Amazing events, unforgettable lessons.
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