I live in a small town and don't have much of a commute, but I do take lengthier trips once or twice a week. If I'm not in the mood to argue with public radio (yes, I'm an avid NPR listener, no, I do not agree with everything they air), I put in a CD and listen. I don't have a particular genre I prefer hearing rather than reading. Listening is a different experience, and it works for a wide variety of literature.
I recently listened to Paris: A Love Story by Kati Marton. Ms. Marton is a familiar name to many of us. She was a foreign correspondent through much of my adulthood, and was married to two quite prominent and influential men, journalist Peter Jennings and diplomat Richard Holbrooke. She loved them both, and she also loved Paris.
I don't speak French. Two of my children do, though I can barely hear the nuances in that romance language. They tease me whenever I try to say something as mundane as crepe. I'm far more comfortable with the harder sounds of its synonym blintz.
But back to the book. French and Hungarian flowed off the narrator's tongue. Though I would be hard pressed to mimic the narration, I became entranced in the story and the authentic language with which it was told.
I remember hearing a radio program several years ago. Yes, it was on NPR. A college professor spoke about his life. He taught himself English by reading -- without having heard much spoken English at all. As a result, he knew he mispronounced some words, but since he was the professor, his students were loathe to correct him. When he was learning English, audiobooks were few and far between, generally available only via libraries for the blind. Today, they are available in most every library, downloadable at no charge via many of those same libraries, and available for purchase from retail outlets.
And they are an experience worth having. It takes me back to reading to my children. It takes me back to my mother reading to me. And, when I'm listening to an audiobook, laughing out loud somehow seems imminently more acceptable than doing so while reading quietly. After all, I'm not breaking any silence.
As a librarian, I think about access to information. Access an audiobook. It's a refreshing way to connect to the pages of a book.
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Remembering Dad . . . a little cliche
It's Father's Day, so I'm remembering my dad. He hasn't walked the Earth for many years, but he's with me every day, every moment. yes, I am who I am because of my parents. And I am honored to walk in their footsteps.
So here I am, a librarian, crediting my dad with who I am today, and I don't have a clear picture of my dad ever reading a book other than a prayerbook, which he read, if you will excuse me, religiously, every day. His other reading material was the newspaper, which he read from cover to cover. And those memories are vivid! Every evening he'd sit in the den and read the paper. At that time, even our small town paper (a daily in a community of about 34,000) was significant, multiple sections with many pages each. Certainly not The New York Times, but a far cry from the 12 pages that make up the local paper today.
I'm guessing Dad was dyslexic in an age long before learning disabilities were ever identified. I don't think reading was easy for him. But it was important to him! And while I don't remember seeing him reading novels, I know there were westerns at his bedside, and since they changed occasionally, I imagine he read them and replaced them with other titles.
Manitowoc Public Library's mission includes a statement about promoting a culture of reading. As librarians, we work at promoting a reading culture to the community. But as a parent, if your children see you read -- anything at all -- you can give that gift to your children.
So thank you Dad, for reading the newspaper every day. And thank you Mom, for the novels you devoured in every spare moment. Reading has always been my pleasure and I have managed to turn that into a career (not, mind you, that librarians spend their days reading on the job, but that when we read for pleasure, we can use those titles for readers advisory).
Now, in Dad's honor, I think I'll go read a book!
So here I am, a librarian, crediting my dad with who I am today, and I don't have a clear picture of my dad ever reading a book other than a prayerbook, which he read, if you will excuse me, religiously, every day. His other reading material was the newspaper, which he read from cover to cover. And those memories are vivid! Every evening he'd sit in the den and read the paper. At that time, even our small town paper (a daily in a community of about 34,000) was significant, multiple sections with many pages each. Certainly not The New York Times, but a far cry from the 12 pages that make up the local paper today.
I'm guessing Dad was dyslexic in an age long before learning disabilities were ever identified. I don't think reading was easy for him. But it was important to him! And while I don't remember seeing him reading novels, I know there were westerns at his bedside, and since they changed occasionally, I imagine he read them and replaced them with other titles.
Manitowoc Public Library's mission includes a statement about promoting a culture of reading. As librarians, we work at promoting a reading culture to the community. But as a parent, if your children see you read -- anything at all -- you can give that gift to your children.
So thank you Dad, for reading the newspaper every day. And thank you Mom, for the novels you devoured in every spare moment. Reading has always been my pleasure and I have managed to turn that into a career (not, mind you, that librarians spend their days reading on the job, but that when we read for pleasure, we can use those titles for readers advisory).
Now, in Dad's honor, I think I'll go read a book!
Monday, June 10, 2013
the unfinished book
Listening to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me! on National Public Radio this weekend I heard that I no longer need to feel guilty about the books I haven't finished -- not the ones I've started to write and never penned a complete chapter, but the books I haven't finished reading. They're on my night stand, and they rise to the top every once in awhile, generally when I pick up the books after I've knocked over the entire stack.
Sometimes I let unfinished books languish for reasonably good reasons. I own the book, but I borrowed the other one I'm reading from the library and must return it in a few days. Or, book club is next week and I really must finish the selection. Or I just have to find out what happens in the book I'm listening to in the car and I read faster than the narrator speaks.
But sometimes the book I'm reading just doesn't grab my attention. I don't connect with the characters, or the writing is choppy, or the editing is lousy and there are typos in the text! If it's a library book, I happily return it and go on my merry way. But if I own it, the guilt settles in. It's there. I should read it.
But why? Recent estimates indicate that more than 300,000 books are published by traditional presses each year. Some sources estimate that if you add self published books, reprints of titles in the public domain, and other publications, you can add a zero to the above total. Obviously, there's something for everyone -- and not everything is for me. (Audible sigh.)
So with many thanks to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me! for pointing out the obvious, I will tell you what I've read in the past couple of weeks (leaving out at least one title I returned to the library before I finished it):
The Lawgiver by Herman Wouk: A wonderful mix of fact and fiction. Wouk's character is real. What about the others? Is there really a movie about Moses in the works?
Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan: Fast paced fun mix of history and technology. What secrets are hidden in the pages of the book you're reading?
The Next Best Thing by Jennifer Weiner: Chick lit with a happy ending. Listened to the audiobook. Great narrator.
A Fountain Filled with Blood by Julia Spencer-Fleming. Second in a series. Getting bogged down in some of the descriptions, but I like the characters enough that I'm happy to keep reading.
Sometimes I let unfinished books languish for reasonably good reasons. I own the book, but I borrowed the other one I'm reading from the library and must return it in a few days. Or, book club is next week and I really must finish the selection. Or I just have to find out what happens in the book I'm listening to in the car and I read faster than the narrator speaks.
But sometimes the book I'm reading just doesn't grab my attention. I don't connect with the characters, or the writing is choppy, or the editing is lousy and there are typos in the text! If it's a library book, I happily return it and go on my merry way. But if I own it, the guilt settles in. It's there. I should read it.
But why? Recent estimates indicate that more than 300,000 books are published by traditional presses each year. Some sources estimate that if you add self published books, reprints of titles in the public domain, and other publications, you can add a zero to the above total. Obviously, there's something for everyone -- and not everything is for me. (Audible sigh.)
So with many thanks to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me! for pointing out the obvious, I will tell you what I've read in the past couple of weeks (leaving out at least one title I returned to the library before I finished it):
The Lawgiver by Herman Wouk: A wonderful mix of fact and fiction. Wouk's character is real. What about the others? Is there really a movie about Moses in the works?
Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan: Fast paced fun mix of history and technology. What secrets are hidden in the pages of the book you're reading?
The Next Best Thing by Jennifer Weiner: Chick lit with a happy ending. Listened to the audiobook. Great narrator.
A Fountain Filled with Blood by Julia Spencer-Fleming. Second in a series. Getting bogged down in some of the descriptions, but I like the characters enough that I'm happy to keep reading.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Unusual life in a library
Not too long ago I was asked about the most unusual thing that has happened to me while working the the library. This gave me the opportunity to think back on 12 years in libraryland.
I started out as Public Relations Supervisor, and though my title has changed and other responsibilities have been added over the years, I still spearhead public relations and marketing efforts. As a result, the bulk of my day is not spent cataloging material or providing service across a desk. I work with the Friends of the Library and the Foundation. I appear on radio shows and tell the library story to a variety of groups throughout the community. And I have a lot of opportunities in the library afforded me only because my flexibility.
There was the day, for instance, when I babysat a baby bat burrowing under a box. To be fair, the bat had no interest in being under a box, but what could we do? It was the middle of the day, the bat why lying on the floor of our mezzanine, and patrons were walking past. We could not risk anyone touching the bat. What if it was rabid? The chances were great, after all, that the bat was not well. Why else would it have found its way into the library in the middle of the afternoon? We were not screening Batman or even Stellaluna (which is a lovely children's story of a fruit bat adopted by a family of birds).
I nonchalantly set up a cart of books, readying them to be shelved, while trying not to draw too much attention to myself or the box upon which I had perched a pile of hardcover books (it was one feisty little bat), as I waited for the fine folks from Wildlife of Wisconsin to show up and rescue our bat.
About an hour later, a leather-gloved volunteer appeared. To me he was a knight in shining armor. At no time during my many years of schooling had anyone taught me how to address wildlife issues. He stuck his hand through the box and pulled out the bat. He explained the the bat was healthy, just a confused. After all, this was a juvenile bat, not used to being away from its family.
This volunteer took the little bat to give it a thorough check up and release it back into the wild. A normal day for this volunteer, but a baffling experience for this librarian. And just one of the many memories that brings a smile to my face.
I started out as Public Relations Supervisor, and though my title has changed and other responsibilities have been added over the years, I still spearhead public relations and marketing efforts. As a result, the bulk of my day is not spent cataloging material or providing service across a desk. I work with the Friends of the Library and the Foundation. I appear on radio shows and tell the library story to a variety of groups throughout the community. And I have a lot of opportunities in the library afforded me only because my flexibility.
There was the day, for instance, when I babysat a baby bat burrowing under a box. To be fair, the bat had no interest in being under a box, but what could we do? It was the middle of the day, the bat why lying on the floor of our mezzanine, and patrons were walking past. We could not risk anyone touching the bat. What if it was rabid? The chances were great, after all, that the bat was not well. Why else would it have found its way into the library in the middle of the afternoon? We were not screening Batman or even Stellaluna (which is a lovely children's story of a fruit bat adopted by a family of birds).
I nonchalantly set up a cart of books, readying them to be shelved, while trying not to draw too much attention to myself or the box upon which I had perched a pile of hardcover books (it was one feisty little bat), as I waited for the fine folks from Wildlife of Wisconsin to show up and rescue our bat.
About an hour later, a leather-gloved volunteer appeared. To me he was a knight in shining armor. At no time during my many years of schooling had anyone taught me how to address wildlife issues. He stuck his hand through the box and pulled out the bat. He explained the the bat was healthy, just a confused. After all, this was a juvenile bat, not used to being away from its family.
This volunteer took the little bat to give it a thorough check up and release it back into the wild. A normal day for this volunteer, but a baffling experience for this librarian. And just one of the many memories that brings a smile to my face.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Connections
I'm reading Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Book Store by Robin Sloan. Though not very far into the book at the moment, part of it is about connections. I've noticed recently that of the quarter of a million items at my public library, I often grab related books. Sure, I read series fiction, but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about picking up a book that takes place in London (Falling Angels by Tracy Chevalier) and following it with a book that takes place at the English seashore (The Beach Street Knitting Society and Yarn Club by Gil McNeil). Or reading a book about the making of a situation comedy (The Next Best Thing by Jennifer Weiner), then reading a book about the making of a movie The Lawgiver by Herman Wouk).
There's nothing on the covers that would connect these books. In fact, often the pertinent information is covered by library barcodes and genre stickers (yes, I know, the bane of all library patrons). It's as if an invisible string takes me from one book to another. I don't know why, and I don't know how, but sometimes I find myself reading several books set in and around Savannah or Paris, both places I've never been. In the past several months I've read The Piano Shop on the Left Bank: Discovering a Forgotten Passion in a Paris Atelier by Thad Carhart (yes, I knew from the onset that one takes place in Paris), then An Unexpected Guest by Anne Korkiakivi and The Bookseller by Mark Pryor, both also set in the City of Light.
Generally, little thought goes into selecting a book from the library. Rushing through the library, I suddenly remember that I'm pages away from finishing whatever is on my bedside table, or that I just returned the audiobook I was listening to in the car, or that I'm going to be spending some time with my grandson and he may just take a nap. I better have a book in my bag. I grab something handy. If it doesn't grab me quickly, I'll return it and borrow something else.
So how does it happen that I read two books in a row set in California? I'll have to pay more attention. Meanwhile, thank you Mr. Sloan, for helping me identify the phenomenon. Now to figure out why it happens . . .
There's nothing on the covers that would connect these books. In fact, often the pertinent information is covered by library barcodes and genre stickers (yes, I know, the bane of all library patrons). It's as if an invisible string takes me from one book to another. I don't know why, and I don't know how, but sometimes I find myself reading several books set in and around Savannah or Paris, both places I've never been. In the past several months I've read The Piano Shop on the Left Bank: Discovering a Forgotten Passion in a Paris Atelier by Thad Carhart (yes, I knew from the onset that one takes place in Paris), then An Unexpected Guest by Anne Korkiakivi and The Bookseller by Mark Pryor, both also set in the City of Light.
Generally, little thought goes into selecting a book from the library. Rushing through the library, I suddenly remember that I'm pages away from finishing whatever is on my bedside table, or that I just returned the audiobook I was listening to in the car, or that I'm going to be spending some time with my grandson and he may just take a nap. I better have a book in my bag. I grab something handy. If it doesn't grab me quickly, I'll return it and borrow something else.
So how does it happen that I read two books in a row set in California? I'll have to pay more attention. Meanwhile, thank you Mr. Sloan, for helping me identify the phenomenon. Now to figure out why it happens . . .
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
G-d Bless America
This morning, as I was watching ABC, one of the commentators noted something to the effect of "People are gathering on the mall to witness the peaceful transfer of power." What a wonderful testament to our American Democracy. We are able to relish the tradition, to marvel in the history, to enjoy the inaugural balls. At no point in our history have we ever needed to worry about chaos ensuing as we swear in a new administration.
Whether you see yourself as a Democrat or Republican, as an Independent or a Libertarian, we are all Americans, and we are truly blessed.
Whether you see yourself as a Democrat or Republican, as an Independent or a Libertarian, we are all Americans, and we are truly blessed.
Monday, January 12, 2009
It's a privilege
I work in a public library and it's a privilege to serve the public. It's also a great deal of fun. Sure, we have all the stress of any public service job. Someone is looking for something they cannot find and their frustrated. They take it out on us (though a smile goes a long, long way in defusing their ire). Or someone is searching inappropriate sites on the Internet. That may make for an embarrassing or even disturbing situation, but generally not life threatening. Other times we may not be on the same wavelength with co-workers and we need to negotiate a bit. But, by and large, we have it good. We get to help people and when they find something they want, they get to take it home for three weeks -- for free!
Sometimes I think we forget what an essential service public libraries offer, or how fortunate we are to be able to help people use them. US News & World Report (http://www.usnews.com/articles/business/best-careers/2008/12/11/best-careers-2009-librarian.html) listed librarians as a "best career." I heartily concur. I look forward to the time when I will be able to identify myself as a librarian with a capital "L."
Sometimes I think we forget what an essential service public libraries offer, or how fortunate we are to be able to help people use them. US News & World Report (http://www.usnews.com/articles/business/best-careers/2008/12/11/best-careers-2009-librarian.html) listed librarians as a "best career." I heartily concur. I look forward to the time when I will be able to identify myself as a librarian with a capital "L."
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