Reader's Exchange : Round Rock Public Library

Go ahead, make...

Linda Sappenfield — Fri, 17 May 2013 18:46:00 GMT

Forget Rapunzel spinning straw into gold and Cinderella's fairy godmother devising a coach from a pumpkin. This project demanded creativity.

Michelle, our library director, requested that fellow reference librarian Chris and I design a giveaway flyer for the library's booth at the June 8 Mini Maker Faire. The brochure's mission: "information for the Maker community about the resources available."

So many resources; so few quick explanations of "Maker community".

Which assessment of "Maker" do you credit, and then how do you encapsulate what we can offer all those who qualify? Definitions of "maker" consider location (hackerspace/studio/workshop/lab), tools (hardware/software/traditional tools/collaborative knowledge), purpose (to invent/tinker/innovate/envision), and end result (technological innovation/ consumer products/crafts/acquired techniques and strategies).

"Making" happens in DIY mode but also DIWO (Do It with Others) style and encourages learning by playing and experimentation. Jeff Sturges, associated with a Detroit makerspace, sees the Maker movement as "creating creative people".

Though digital and technical projects (3-D printers currently the trendiest) dominate Maker news, the scientific component represents only one facet.   Jewelry makers, woodworkers, fiber artists, urban winemakers are all Makers, along with those dabbling in robotics and custom electronic gadgetry with Arduino, Raspberry Pi, and the like. San Francisco's recent SF Made Week campaign exemplifies the spectrum of participants and interests.

Austin Public Library's Recycled Reads store demonstrates Maker activity, combining recycling and "upcycling". Recycled Reads now attracts crafters who show up not just to admire and purchase store offerings but also to create. Round Rock Public Library has fostered Maker activity for years, a recent example being the Knit & Crochet meetup.

Round Rock Arts Council's clever take on making/upcycling--the Have a Ball contest-- invites everyone to produce imaginative creations using baseballs to be displayed, then auctioned. Proceeds benefit RRAC, thus demonstrating that currency, too, can be upcycled.

Generating ideas for an adequate handout, we shifted into Maker mode ourselves. Chris envisioned a "credit card thin" digital surface with integrated personal minder "(Your e-book checkout is about to expire...") and a Siri-like inquiry option. I imagined a handheld trifold multimedia screen with continually updated carousel displays and a sensor that records eye movement in order to assess which displays the holder focused on most in order to prioritize featured topics.

But we've downsized our dreams back to paper format, the mode which our department can afford and which, incidentally, already exists. Collection Development Manager Theresa is purchasing for the library a subscription to Make magazine. We've ordered more books on Arduino to supplement the hundreds of books and resources on various aspects of making and upcycling already here.

For fiction readers, I recommend Cory Doctorow's Makers, (according to Publishers Weekly, a "tour de force" and "one of the most brilliant reimaginings of the near future since cyberpunk wore out its mirror shades.") It's currently checked out to me.

But, since I have so many ideas for weekend projects, I'm returning it this afternoon. Look to your Maker laurels, Rapunzel and CFG!

Some like it hot

Linda Sappenfield — Fri, 01 Mar 2013 19:37:00 GMT

Yes, I'm overthinking this. Chances are that if a city official or Michelle, our library director (or anyone else) happened by the reference desk when I said that, they wouldn't consider it strange or inappropriate.

I'm still going to disregard that professional advice. But the Library Journal article was quite useful otherwise. Acknowledging the massive popular response to trilogies by E.L. James (Fifty Shades of Grey) and Sylvia Day (Crossfire series), the author surveyed the history of "hot romance" and "erotic romance" books, offering suggestions for further reading, strategies to determine what readers want, how to find credible review sources, etc.

Observing that everyone has preferred styles or emphases and that some readers always choose the sexier stories, the author advised: "My favorite way of determining this criterion is by asking, ‘How hot do you like it ?' "

Well, that question immediately flunked my Something I Would Ever Say at the Reference Desk test. But the point is certainly valid. Maybe I could propose a theoretical 1-10 scale where 1 is something you'd read aloud to your grandmother, and so forth.

Not that any amount of care would guarantee 100% professional behavior on my part. Recently, helping a customer who needed a cache of funny one-liners for a performance project, I ended up laughing along with her--a lot, and too loudly. Poor role modeling for the Quiet Floor, but those bits were first-quality comedy. Humor truly does affect us like a tonic.

Just thinking about that episode puts me in such fine spirits that I've thought of two ways to share the happiness:

First, for E.L. James fans, here are suggestions for other authors whom you may enjoy and whose books are available at the library (thanks to Sylvia Day's expertise for this information): Lora Leigh, Lauren Dane, Shayla Black, Jaci Burton, Shannon McKenna, Emma Holly, Maya Banks.

Second, I'll remind humor fans that you can pinpoint some wonderful reads just by typing "parody" or "parodies" or "satire" in the Catalog Quick Search box on the library's home page. Your finds will run the gamut from classic to edgy:

The Complete Stories of Dorothy Parker (audiobook)
Spoofs! (Sesame Street, DVD)
Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator (DVD)
Goodnight iPad
The Da Vinci Cod by Don Brine or The Dick Cheney Code by Henry Beard
Comedian Chris Elliott's The Shroud of the Thwacker
The Girl with the Golden Bouffant (from the Jane Bond series by Mabel Maney)
Don't Mess with Travis by Bob Smiley
Snobs by Julian Fellowes
Our Dumb World: The Onion's Atlas of the Planet Earth
The Politics of Barbecue by Blake Fontenay

And let's not forget The Fifty Shames of Earl Grey by Fanny Merkin.

Moonlight in old Austin

Linda Sappenfield — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 23:23:00 GMT

Resolution someone should make for 2013: solve the question of acceptable vs. inconsiderate digital multitasking.

Before the term came into being, we felt virtuous when accomplishing things simultaneously. Haven't we heard the stories about pioneer women sitting fireside, stirring the soup with one hand and quilting with the other--and rocking the baby's cradle with one foot? The other foot was presumably also doing something worthy--perhaps treadling the spinning wheel while someone else spun, sewed, and shelled peas.

More options exist for offending others now. More of an Appliance Multitasker than a Gadget Multitasker, I'll start up breadmaker, washer, and dryer and head out for some gardening while listening to a Playaway book. But the minute I witness someone popping out a cell phone and texting during a live conversation, I become The Judgmental Multitasker. It's easy to scroll for information and disapprove at the same time.

However, multitasking books (and/or books that prompt the reader to do so) deserve gold stars--unless the reader was hoping for a restful, non-stimulating literary interlude...

Consider Steven Saylor's A Twist at the End, the choice for a January book group. It blends history, politics, true crime, mystery, and easily inferred social commentary.

Saylor's protagonist is William Sydney Porter AKA O. Henry, famed author of classic short stories ("The Last Leaf", "The Gift of the Magi", etc.). Prior to achieving literary fame, sometime Austin resident Porter was a ranch hand, pharmacist, quartet singer, illustrator and cartoonist, editor of The Rolling Stone weekly, bank teller--and convicted embezzler. (Trivia buffs take note: he's also credited with coining the term "banana republic"). Set in 1885 Austin, A Twist centers on the sensational Servant Girl Annihilator murders, still unsolved and credited to America's first serial killer. Sculptor Elisabet Ney, numerous colorful figures from the Texas legislature and the then-new Capitol building's "Goddess of Liberty" statue also figure in.

Be warned. You'll be torn between turning pages and pausing to seek more historical background. I found the framed 1895 panoramic map of Austin in my living room to be both a benefit and a distraction. I kept trotting over to pinpoint whichever intersection or location had just been mentioned. And, with the internet and Handbook of Texas Online so handy, why not treat myself to more details about moonlight towers, the Texas Capitol, and so forth?

You can order your own historic maps from the General Land Office (where O. Henry was employed for a time).

Note (pg. 221) the reference to Richard Harding Davis as certain to be widely read "a century from now, in 2006". Davis, premier correspondent of the Spanish American War, writer of fiction and Broadway plays, magazine editor, and literary influence for Sinclair Lewis, Jack London, and Ernest Hemingway (among others) was so dashingly handsome as to have inspired the image of the Gibson Girl's escort. His clean-shaven look influenced a generation of men to forego formerly stylish facial hair. He's even alleged to have brought the first avocado back to the States.

Had texting-while-chatting been an option back then, he'd have made it look charming.

What this world needs

Linda Sappenfield — Wed, 19 Dec 2012 16:11:00 GMT

...is another version of "The Night Before Christmas". What if Santa paid a visit to downtown Round Rock the week before his annual delivery?

The Night Before Christmas at Round Rock Public Library

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the shelves
Resounds pitter-patter of holiday elves,
It has to be elves, right? The library's closed.
With no one in evidence, this question's posed:

Who's scuttling around, making noises of diligence?
Tiny associates of that red-suited imminence?
Who else would be busily shifting, arranging,
Accounting for things from our patrons' exchanging?

Well, the answer's apparent, for those who aren't daft.
It couldn't be otherwise: library staff!
The drop box, you know, functions all ‘round the clock,
Someone must come in and duly take stock,

To find workers here after hours won't be scary.
What if it's Carolyn, Candy, or Mary?
Elaine, David, Chip, and Regina endeavor
To update and leave no loose ends whatsoever.
Before our doors open, Eric, Susan and Joe
Make order of chaos, but--hold on, now--Whoa!

Good grief! I was wrong and at fault--a contrarian,
Or so I am told by the reference librarians.
They assure me that your first impression was right,
It is elves we're hearing; they missed Santa's flight.

One morning last week, before opening hour
As Erikka filled the upstairs display tower,
An iconic image her focus did snag--
An jolly old man with a SHOP THE ROCK bag.

"It's OK," Chris told her. "He did ask us first.
It's perfectly fine; we're not being coerced.
Yes, we're not open yet, but this guy's on a mission:
You might say, a global one-night expedition.

"And he needed to check without further delay
On a shipment of iPads gone sadly astray.
He misplaced his smartphone at a high elevation--
He just needs to use a library workstation."

As Geeta and Linda joined in on the huddle,
The episode no longer seemed such a muddle.
Since the reference desk helped with this seasonal service,
The kindly large patron seemed no longer nervous.

He bestowed on the dazzled librarians a bow,
Requesting his presence they would disavow,
Until he had time to return to the north,
Complete preparations, load up and set forth.

But, now it's near midnight, he's well underway
And details of what really transpired we'll replay:

Two elves had decided in Round Rock to stroll,
Since rarely they chance to depart the North Pole.
As they lingered in StarCo enjoying their treat,
Santa exited town with his crew incomplete.

So, when library staff noted sandwiches taken,
Or granola bars absent or yogurt forsaken,
They chose to say nothing, suspecting perhaps
The hunger of small ones best kept under wraps.

Fear not, Santa's tweeted: he plans to recover
The elves from their refuge; on Christmas he'll hover
Above downtown Round Rock in hours before light
To scoop up the homesick ones fully contrite.

There's really no harm done: the elves are well nourished
Their collaboration with staff clearly flourished.

In conclusion, all wish you a Joyeux Noel:
Santa, elves, and your staff here at RRPL!

Why holiday notes are even better than cards

Linda Sappenfield — Thu, 29 Nov 2012 19:53:00 GMT

This time of year, surprises should arrive tied with a bow or layered in a tin with other similarly delectable items. As for the other kind of eye-opener (say, the dawning realization that the updated flower bed shape doesn't fit our Christmas lights like the old one), those can be difficult to appreciate.

My mood began trending upward, however, when the workaround proved to look okay. All was calm and bright until our neighbor strolled over, observing that he and his wife had been discussing the new landscaping and were "worried" about it.

These are fantastic neighbors, the kind whose opinion matters. My spirits already threatened to sag before he finished, "...because it looks like you're staging your house to sell."

We're not; as I explained, but we did need to vanquish the encroaching mess of shrubbery that we'd dubbed The Fortress of Green. As it turns out, there are worse things than being advised that one's departure from the neighborhood would be regrettable.

Here's the moral of that story: Moods can turn on a dime. So don't wait until you're feeling the holiday spirit to embark upon seasonal tasks. Give yourself permission to grumble as you drag boxes down from the attic or pout as you untangle strings of lights. By the time good cheer inhabits your soul, you'll celebrate it even more in a festive setting.

Better yet, tune into music guaranteed to energize, inspire, or instantly improve your day. In search of a can't-miss slate of tunes for just this purpose, I asked around for "absolute favorite tunes, holiday or not, that you'd recommend for a day-brightening mix."

And, thanks to library staffers Kate, Theresa, Linda C, Elaine T, Eric, Mary, Candy, Chris, Chip, Joe, Pat M, David, and our friend Shannon from the City's Communication Division, we're offering this lineup almost certain to include some of your favorites. We call it

The Round Rock Public Library Holiday/Everyday Playlist

"What a Wonderful World" sung by Willie Nelson
"Linus and Lucy" by the Vince Guaraldi Trio
"Skating" by the Vince Guaraldi Trio
Handel's Messiah - "Hallelujah Chorus"
"Stormy Monday" by The Allman Brothers Band
"River" by Joni Mitchell
"Messages" by Xavier Rudd
"Christmas Don't Be Late" by Alvin and the Chipmunks
"I Was Made For Sunny Days" by The Weepies
"Simple Gifts" by Yo-Yo Ma and Alison Krauss
"St. Thomas" by Sonny Rollins
"The Devil Went Down to Georgia" by Charlie Daniels Band
"What A Wonderful World" sung by Louis Armstrong
"Where were You When the World Stopped Turning" by Alan Jackson
"The Lord's Prayer" sung by Andy Williams
"Christmas Time is Here" by the Vince Guaraldi Trio
"Sleigh Ride" (instrumental) by Leroy Anderson
"Java" by Al Hirt

Better watch out

Linda Sappenfield — Wed, 21 Nov 2012 19:16:00 GMT

A certain approaching event conjures up a vivid image: busy workers frantically readying shipments of delightful items for wide, eagerly received distribution.

Santa's elves are probably working overtime, too. But I was thinking of forthcoming books; yesterday I read a review for Cathy Marie Buchanan's The Painted Girls, due out in early January. I loved this author's The Day the Falls Stood Still so am anxious to get my hands on this new novel about two sisters in Belle Époque Paris.

Since we cherish the notion of handmade toys and gingerbread men lovingly manufactuerd on a holly-wreathed assembly line, it's not hard to imagine all that affection and energy in a production model for writing. True, this couldn't be contained in one venue; writers all over the country--sometimes even in other countries--labor over laptops or typewriters (that likely are not adorned with twinkles, ribbon, or greenery) crafting our next favorite reads. Scattered though these industrious creators may be, the end results prove just as celebratory. Boxes and digital downloads, materializing when promised, are joyously accepted.

Anticipation is half the fun; watch the library for these upcoming deliveries:

December
If you've already seen Kevin J. Anderson's Death Warmed Over, you know that it features Zombie P.I. Dan Shamble, who is busy solving his own murder. Dan's next adventure, Unnatural Acts, is lurching toward its publication date. Readers fond of small-town characters, Scotland, and cozy mysteries will applaud A.D. Scott's Beneath the Abbey Wall. While you're waiting, check out A Small Death in the Great Glen and A Double Death on the Black Isle. Austinite and award-winning romantic suspense author Laura Griffin continues her Tracers series with Scorched. Round Rock Public Library has all of the earlier Tracer entries.

January
I read an advance copy of debut author Elizabeth Black's The Drowning House so can attest to its being atmospheric and memorable. Given its setting in Galveston; Erik Larsons's Isaac's Storm would be the ideal companion read. Tracy Chevalier, highly successful with European historical fiction titles (e.g., Girl with a Pearl Earring) will offer a tale based on American history (Underground Railroad), The Last Runaway. Another Austin resident, Manuel Gonzales, has published in some notable magazines and currently is receiving enviable notices (including a starred review from Publishers Weekly) for his short story collection, The Miniature Wife & Other Stories.

March
Fans of Edgar, Shamus, and Anthony Award-winning author Harlan Coben will rejoice to hear that Six Years is due out this spring.

April
Alan Brennert, whose Moloka'i proved such a book group favorite that it won a "Bookies" Award in 2006 as Book Club Book of the Year, now brings us the decades-spanning Palisades Park. And fans of Edward Rutherfurd's epic historical sagas (Sarum, London, New York: The Novel) will cheer the publication of Paris: The Novel in April--and should go ahead and clear a couple of days on their calendars. Fellow readers will understand.

Got the message?

Linda Sappenfield — Fri, 12 Oct 2012 20:55:00 GMT

Board meetings are like Thanksgiving; I'm much happier during and afterward than before. Wednesday's session was fine; after two years in this area of church administration the four of us can finish each other's sentences and interpret nonverbal shorthand. If you're going to serve as the minutes-taker (my job this month) this is the group to record.

In the midst of brainstorming and task delegation, I enjoyed seeing our chairperson's flashy new bracelet thoughtfully readjusted each time the wearer pondered a point. This accessory had been distributed that day in her workplace, she explained. The bright orange band read "Talk. Text. Crash." This was the first bracelet from TxDOT's Distracted Driving Campaign that I'd seen.

Five minutes after concluding the meeting and heading back to Round Rock I became a distracted driver myself.

But not that kind: my phone stays zipped into my handbag when I'm driving. During the couple of seconds I viewed a particular roadside sign, I was sidetracked from one part of the ad by another one.

The professionally lettered placard promoted a special rate for a massage at a nearby spa. But I couldn't tell you what that price was; I was too diverted by the mixed message set before us. The young man propping up the sign braced the edge with one hand; with the other he cradled his (obviously engrossing) cell phone. To hear the caller better, he'd swiveled his body completely away from oncoming traffic.

What better way to convey a service associated with personal focus and individual attention than turning your back on your entire potential customer base?

To be fair, let's conclude that the sign presenter responded to just one urgent message and had been actively seeking eye contact with the traffic stream the other 99.5% of his shift. No one knows better than librarians how ubiquitous cell phones are.

Along with requests for more programs, DVDs, eBooks, bestsellers, etc. library staffers are frequently asked to persevere in establishing a calm, study-conducive atmosphere on second floor. You can imagine why this scenario challenges everyone. We achieve a fair rate of success only because staff and empathetic customers all pitch in to make it so.

The library has received an online award for "Best Study Spot", and customers tell us, "My family won't be quiet, so I'm counting on you all for that."

Upstairs, you'll see lovely green signs picturing ferns and a barely rippling pond surface, gently establishing Quiet Floor territory. Should your cell phone or conversation exceed what other customers expect, we'd offer you a pretty fern-themed card as a reminder.

You'll probably appreciate these scenic, watery communiqués as much as we do. Not only do they help ensure you can study and work, they also remind you that, when you're ready to play, the fountains, music, and conviviality of Main Street Plaza await just a few steps away.

Here we go again

Linda Sappenfield — Fri, 05 Oct 2012 16:55:00 GMT

Earlier in the week, two distinguished-looking individuals smiling determinedly, perfectly tailored, and sporting patriotic ties strode onto the debate platform. Witnessing this, my daughter and I echoed one another's' thoughts: There go two very brave men.

Imagine millions of people scrutinizing--and potentially misinterpreting--every nuance of body language and parsing every syllable you utter. No amount of coaching can guarantee that you won't slip up and offer your opponent the perfect opening for a memorable comeback or future one-liner.

The first outing afforded us no "There you go again"s or silver feet. But missteps are inevitable, as one candidate had been reminded when he failed to mention military personnel at a crucial juncture during his party's convention.

Though merely a voter, I, too, had reason to recall (twice) this week how prominently the experiences of servicepersons and veterans figure in our culture. Two novels I selected randomly from my "read ‘em while they're still new" pile both examined the plight of war veterans with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Rebecca Coleman's new Heaven Should Fall imagines the case of a veteran of the war in Afghanistan contending with PTSD and his extended family's increasingly skewed worldview. The veteran's new sister-in-law Jill perceives what no one else in the Olmstead clan is willing to admit, that Elias requires not only assistance but also an advocate dedicated to his welfare and to demanding the resources due him.

The Olmsteads' assessment of the role of government is a story in itself, one that Coleman integrates skillfully. When are regulations inconvenient and when are they unjust? How do you balance family loyalty and concern for the welfare of others? How do you detect suspect agendas labeled as patriotism? These questions are implicit within the exciting story line--also quite familiar to our two debaters.

In Selden Edwards' The Lost Prince (which I highly recommend, though you should read The Little Book first), a sensitive intellectual is consigned to a remote European hospital outpost, destined for an asylum; the horrors of battle have rendered him unable to communicate and to reclaim his identity. In this story, the war in question is World War I. Then, his condition would have been labeled "shell shock".

Edwards' latest also prominently features historical luminaries--J.P. Morgan, William James, Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung, to name a few--as characters, vivid descriptions of the landscape in immediate postwar Europe, and insights into corporate empire-building in early 20^th-century America.

Read Lost Prince yourself to discover whether the stricken soldier is found and recovered, but it won't spoil the conclusion to predict that you, too, will be delighted by the strategy adopted by a friend bound to locate the missing soldier at all costs: venturing into immediate postwar Austria and Italy armed with the one property most apt to ease travel and communication obstacles: a suitcase filled with American currency.

I'll never think of "emotional baggage" in quite the same way again.

Who's your WFF?

Linda Sappenfield — Wed, 08 Aug 2012 02:45:00 GMT

So, you've managed to avoid starring in a Youtube video or some other digital gaffe showcase that's "gone viral"? Don't congratulate yourself yet. As I was reminded this past weekend, low-tech and even no-tech modes of embarrassment lurk in the most innocuous places.

As actual viruses do, these menaces reside, silent and dormant, in dark venues. They await a host who will enable them to replicate and reveal their insidious nature.

I'm referring, of course, to school yearbooks that we inscribe for our friends, who then (oh, the horror) keep them and bring them out years and years later.

The occasion was a rare get-together with three friends from elementary school through high school. All of them look wonderful and chose professions that enable them to enhance peoples' lives--which they do. Appreciating my luck in having hung out with precisely the right crowd, I wasn't feeling entirely confident of having measured up. Naturally, that's when the 7th grade yearbook surfaced.

As the pages ruffled to divulge what we'd written, I could envision the dreadful possibilities of my authorship. But miraculously, that particular inscription had been inked in a fleeting instance when nerdiness and pre-adolescence had given way to sincerity and appropriateness.

Communication still poses challenges, however. My friends are too polite to bestow "Worst Facebook Friend" honors on me, but we all know. Due to Google privacy concerns, I removed most photos and don't post new ones. I'll go weeks without reading news feeds and seldom comment. Overwhelmed by Facebook's chattiness, I figure that time saved scanning posts (many of them significant, I know) could be devoted to reading another book or two every week. I think they understand.

At least my Facebook-neglecting time was wisely invested. Setting up the August book tower upstairs, I discovered many personal favorites in critics' lists.

For the display, I needed a can't-miss handout for patrons who say that their reading time is scarce (sound familiar?); thus, they want to spend it on "something really good".

Surveying opinions of editors and reviewers from The New York Times, Salon.com, The Onion AV Club, The Village Voice, and The Modern Library, I compiled fifty fiction titles published from the 1980s and onward, all deemed to be outstanding. You can pick up a copy at the library; but some of my picks are below. I hope that Becky, Lou Ann, and Peggy will enjoy these--and you will, too.

The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood
Possession by A.S. Byatt
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon
Then We Came to the End by Jonathan Ferris
The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen
Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier
Ellen Foster by Kaye Gibbons
The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri
Atonement by Ian McEwan
The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien
Bel Canto by Ann Patchett
The Shipping News by E. Annie Proulx
Empire Falls by Richard Russo
A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley
White Teeth by Zadie Smith
The Master by Colm Toibin

It'$ only money

Linda Sappenfield — Fri, 06 Jul 2012 17:54:00 GMT

"Let me tell you about the very rich," advises the oft-quoted passage from an F. Scott Fitzgerald short story, "They are different from you and me. They possess and enjoy early, and it does something to them..."

What it does is render them fascinating to readers from the not-mega-rich category. Otherwise, why would we--particularly in this economy--immerse ourselves in fictional lifestyles bizarrely devoid of price tag reading?

Lately, I've enjoyed a literary novel (Mark Helprin's In Sunlight and In Shadow), a new romance/time travel story that I think Diana Gabaldon fans would especially like (Beatriz Williams' Overseas), and the film version of Kaui Hart Hemmings' The Descendants. All three feature characters possessing wealth almost beyond imagination.

We readily conjure sympathy for those who don't appear to need it (or anything else). Is it because we're reminded that no amount of financial security can prevent heartache?

Or is it that we can vicariously savor private jet travel, multiple home ownership, and a cadre of personal assistants, then comfortably revert to the non-fictional (and press photographer-free) joys of the perfect chili dog or a stolen hour relaxing in the back yard when we should be doing chores or answering email?

Just think-- immense wealth would curtail one's appreciation of ordinary features of life that are still so marvelous as to make us feel happier every single time we encounter them. Some of my favorite riches:

Crape (or crepe) myrtles
Dogs
Anything Texas-shaped (if you're a native Texan compelled to live in other places at some point, you understand)
Enough water to keep plants alive, even in summertime
Downtown Round Rock: the library has a great view of Main Street Plaza
Advance reading copies (the only thing better than a wonderful read is the chance to savor and share one before it's published)
Underground New York Public Library blog (Thanks to colleague Kate for sharing this link. Photos of New York City subway riders photographed unawares while engrossed in their books could very well make your day.)

Are tall people more energy efficient?

Linda Sappenfield — Fri, 29 Jun 2012 17:33:00 GMT

Could be--and not just because they create more shade outdoors. I developed this theory following a recent local newscast (topic: Let's Avoid Blackouts) reminding us that the clothes dryer is a major electricity consumer.

For those of us exceeding average stature, three-quarter length sleeves (a term preferable to "long-sleeved but not long enough") are a default fashion statement. We hang jeans and trousers to dry upside down so the weight stretches natural fibers, producing another quarter inch of ankle coverage. Actually, since the clothes dryer is a threat to hem length, putting all garments on hangers to dry is the way to go. That strategy works so well that I give my dryer a further vacation, draping towels over backyard furniture and railings to benefit from solar action.

Energy-saving inspirations are everywhere. The live deck monitor for the solar array at Round Rock City Hall is data-rich and a visual learner's delight. As we make incremental improvements--efficient light bulbs, solar shades, reduced appliance use--we can share in the more impressive achievement of a CO2 offset equaling 3,719 trees. The State Energy Conservation Office's "Energy Conservation in the Home" Fact Sheet concisely illustrates keys concepts: radiant barriers, ridge venting, heat transfer in windows, etc. that all homeowners should know.

From the U.S. Department of Energy, "Estimating Appliance and Home Electronic Energy Use" lists enough specific data about individual appliances and how much they consume (not to mention what you'll be paying annually to run your aquarium, dishwasher, toaster oven, etc.) that you may begin to reconsider whether they truly enhance your lifestyle.

The good news? You could justify doing less ironing and vacuuming. The bad news? You're probably hosting energy vampires. According to this National Geographic article (and numerous other sources), those are electronics and appliances that drain energy even while switched off. Don't reach for the garlic; get a power strip.

Here's a summer entertainment option costing you relatively little in terms of energy use and cash: group viewings of library DVDs. True, the television and DVD player require electricity; however, the family or bunch of friends and neighbors shares one screen instead of utilizing multiple devices. You're not consuming fuel driving to another destination, and library checkouts are free.

You probably knew that the library offers hundreds of children's DVDs; you can also pinpoint a television series that you either already love and want to revisit or sample for the first time. A subject search for "television series" results in nearly 200 offerings, including True Blood, Prime Suspect, Sherlock, Dexter, The Sopranos, Midsomer Murders, and lots more.

A subject search for "documentary films" lists several hundred choices: serious (Regret to Inform; philosophic (The Nature of Existence); historic (Freedom Flyers of Tuskegee, British Royal Weddings of the 20^th Century); even wonderfully specific (Tupperware!, The Meaning of Tea: A Tea Inspired Journey).

You will discover an engagingly informative treatment of a topic perfect for your audience, literary (Dickens in America), pet lovers (Dogs Decoded), area history fans (Texas Rangers) or whomever. Should your gathering relish a spirited or even controversial discussion, consider Sicko, Hot Coffee: Is Justice Being Served?, Finding Life Beyond Earth, God in America or another title that you'll readily identify as a conversation-starter.

Thoughtfully saving energy, you'll also spark opinions and generate excitement. Your activity won't register on the City Hall deck monitor, but it'll make the world a better and more entertaining place.

Enjoy a steady diet of surprises

Linda Sappenfield — Thu, 21 Jun 2012 17:37:00 GMT

At one time or another, parents require the reassurance of that longstanding nutritional theory (that Junior's current fixation on nothing but peanut butter or cheese or oranges or cereal, etc. merely indicates his body's pursuit of a particular vitamin or mineral).

You'd think that an empty nester with reasonable eating habits could jettison any such concerns, yet I appear to be driven by the corollary regarding fiction consumption. I suspect my system to be deficient in literary dread. Not usually a fan of thrillers or plot creepiness, I subconsciously seek that element wherever I look.

How else to explain that when I observed a publisher's ad for The Unexpected Houseplant, I entertained visions of a gargantuan carnivorous bloom commanding "Feed Me"? (Alternatively, I wondered whether a posthumous manuscript by Edward Gorey may have just come to light.)

But no. Closer inspection revealed Unexpected Houseplant's subtitle: 220 Unexpected Choices for Every Spot in Your Home--also tastefully demure botanical cover art. I was strangely disappointed.

My craving could also account for a similar letdown: Colm Toibin's just-published New Ways to Kill Your Mother (subtitle: Writers and Their Families). Once I've read something like Zombie Island and restored my equilibrium, I'll pick up favorite author Toibin's latest and appreciate it on its intended terms. In the meantime, it's heartening to learn that my advance copy of Diana Wagman's The Care and Feeding of Exotic Pets actually does feature a startling seven-foot iguana and that Christopher Coake's ominously titled new You Came Back delivers a truly nightmarish scenario.

Always an easy mark for a witty book title, I award extra credit to those new and forthcoming offerings referencing Shakespeare (The Evil That Men Do) or employing wordplay (Meet Me at Emotional Baggage Claim, SEAL Team 666). And, for sheer attention-getting value, one has to acknowledge Grandad, There's A Head on the Beach.

Alexander McCall Smith (The Full Cupboard of Life, Tea Time for the Traditionally Built) consistently charms with titles that could have been lifted from Victorian texts--or perhaps hastily translated from a foreign language. Due out in October: The Uncommon Appeal of Clouds.

Though, fortunately, good titles usually designate good texts, especially clever names--like Gary Shteyngart's (2011) Super Sad True Love Story--can be so perfectly calibrated to the book's tone as to invite misinterpretation. When I nominated Super Sad for a book group's upcoming slate, a male participant countered with, "Nooooo! No chick books!" Not to worry, guys.

And here's a tip for anyone (miraculously) unaware of the buzz surrounding Fifty Shades of Grey. It isn't about interior decorating.

At least pastrami will never go out of style

Linda Sappenfield — Thu, 31 May 2012 15:20:00 GMT

Just my luck.  According to Weather Underground's Manhattan forecast, all the days I'll be vacationing in New York City next week indicate a chance of showers. Of course, the lowest probabilities coincide with the days I'd be indoors anyway at the Book Expo. Rainy weather icons for the 10-day lineup resemble a bakery window--an orderly display of weird blue and gray cupcakes.

The good news: temperatures at least 20 degrees cooler, so cardigans just earned a slot (along with the umbrella) on my mental packing list.

I'll take along most of my black garments, safe bets anywhere but especially in NYC.   Not that anyone would mistake me for a local; once I've questioned why the Second Avenue Deli is on 33^rd Street or stopped to exclaim, "Hey, isn't that the church from Ghostbusters?" , no amount of neutral attire will mask my tourist-ness.

I even thought about picking up a defiantly not-black new sweater. Sadly, the trendy hues ordained by the fashion industry for this season (neon--really?) aren't for everyone and certainly not for me.

Fortunately, having devoted more time to pondering what to read in-flight than what to wear on arrival, I can assure you that the book market continues to offer its customers multiple options
.
As in fashion, certain themes--hoarding and Titanic (mentioned in last week's post); World War I and Downton Abbey-related fictional scenarios; mysteries in increasingly exotic locales--will naturally be promoted.   The difference is that readers can still expect to find other choices calibrated to their tastes.

Should you find hoarding a bit too real or off-putting, you can enjoy empowering tomes like How to Organize Just About Everything or Throw Out Fifty Things: Clear the Clutter, Find Your Life or other volumes from the catalog subject heading "orderliness".

If you've dutifully adopted recipes from low-fat, heart-healthy recipe collections, you'll find that Rosie's Bakery: All-Butter, Cream-Filled, Sugar-Packed Baking Book either confirms your virtue or at least provides a guilty pleasure.   For a culinary vantage point devoid of judgment, there's Off the Menu: Staff Meals from America's Top Restaurants or Kitchen Wisdom: Stories That Heal. And then you can revert back to the straight and narrow with Drop Dead Healthy: One Man's Humble Quest for Bodily Perfection.

Tori Spelling's recent books (starring Tori Spelling)--sTORI telling; Mommywood, Uncharted terriTORI; CelebraTORI: Unleashing Your Inner Party Planner--are popular here.   For other personal revelations and viewpoints (but with a non-Hollywood slant) you could seek out Scholars with Autism Achieving Dreams, edited by Lars Perner or Bruce Isay's All There Is: Love Stories from StoryCorps.

As for me, I'm packing some Playaways. They're compact, tasteful, and rainproof.

A giant possum, hugelkulture, and the Ghost of Babe

Linda Sappenfield — Thu, 03 May 2012 20:03:00 GMT

The Spirit of Babe has haunted my house since last weekend, and I'm fine with that. Given her valuable assistance in my latest DIY effort, the least we can do is play host for a while.

Babe Didrikson Zaharias entered the picture when I resolved to remedy the last traces of the Possum Who Ate Through Our Roof. Structural repair issues were long since completed, but water stains blighted the ceiling of the smallest bedroom, which currently houses my elliptical machine. Every time I exercised, the off-putting yellowy clouds presented themselves for contemplation. Someone needed to make them disappear.

Don Van Natta's Wonder Girl: The Magnificent Sporting Life of Babe Didrikson Zaharias is assigned for an upcoming discussion, and, having acquired supplies for a ceiling re-paint, I'd run out of excuses for not executing that task, too. The Playaway version came to the rescue: once I'd stashed the little audio of Wonder Girl in my pocket and installed the earbuds, Babe and I were set to multitask.

I, however, am not a Wonder Girl, and thanks to artsy architectural features which add extra height, the endeavor proved to be a little scary. Balancing on an upper rung of the ladder with the roll of painter's tape clamped in my teeth and wielding an upraised extended-handle paint roller, I was tempted more than once to climb down and just never look up again. But by then, I'd already gleaned enough details about Babe's determination, grit, and dogged pursuit of her goals to be shamed into finishing the job. Who would want to rank with the class of female she'd have pegged "sissies"?

So now thoughts of Babe greet me on every approach to that room (you know, the one with the pristine ceiling)--and not just because of her Olympic medals, controversial approach to image-making, and astounding athletic versatility.

You might have encountered another (less paranormal) example of just-in-time information delivery this week:   the library's Keyhole Gardens, Wicking Beds, Hugelkultur, and Beyond! program on Tuesday. On that very evening, City of Round Rock Communications Director Will Hampton called to remind us of the new water rates, designed to encourage conservation.

Co-worker Eric, one of the program's presenters, reported that nearly fifty attendees engaged in a lively exploration of gardening practices and technologies for conserving water.   That represents a remarkable attendance figure for a weeknight event, but then water issues loom larger with each passing month.

Finally, my reference colleague Chris reminded me of an instance proving that the library can equip you for nearly any eventuality, including frivolous ones.  You should know that September 19 will be here before you know it--and that our Mango Languages online learning resource offers a course in Pirate!

Celebrating the Poe in poetry

Linda Sappenfield — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 19:01:00 GMT

It's April, National Poetry Month, and the sad but timely news is that poetry and e-readers don't play well together. Craig Morgan Teicher observes in the 3/26 Publishers Weekly that it's "surprisingly hard" to recreate as digital display the irregular line lengths and distinctive indentations with which poets craft their work.

Another threat to poets' peace of mind has been with us for centuries: those irreverent types who can't resist the temptation to parody or pay homage to their favorite verses. I have it on good authority that some of these people even blog.

Cultivating my own bit of Round Rock lately, I've encountered (as you have) a vibrantly stubborn landscape challenge that thrives on adversity. The spiraling despair of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Bells" seemed the ideal point of departure for my tribute to this worthy opponent:

THE WEEDS

Note the plethora of weeds -
Tall weeds!
What a dismal chore their lushness guaranteed!
In the pleasant afternoon,
At their quantity we swoon
And we forecast hours rendering them less.
For each unwanted sprout
Means everyone will doubt
Our success.

And the neighbors -ah, the neighbors-
Those expending all their labors,
Who can guess
At the hours, hours, hours
Mitigating some distress
‘Mid the shrubberies and flowers
Lest their yards appear a mess?
They fight vegetations evil
In this campaign quite primeval
Soldiering on.
Though the dandelions should cower
Still they tower, tower, tower,
Tower
Those paragons of weeds!
Uninvited plants exceed
Those we've coaxed to grow from seed!
Toward their absence we proceed.
Spending time, time, time,
Fighting these botanic crimes,
For the overthrow of weeds,
Of the weeds -
Spending time, time, time,
Fighting these botanic crimes,
We're swiftly chopping weeds,
Oh, the weeds, weeds, weeds-
We're expertly lopping weeds;
Spending time, time, time,
Turf is freed, freed, freed,
Righting these botanic crimes,
Cheer abating of the weeds,
Of the weeds, weeds, weeds -
And negating of the weeds,
Of the weeds, weeds, weeds, weeds,
Weeds, weeds, weeds -
End the greening and the preening of the weeds.