The August Wilson Leadership Academy (Patent Pending)

December 14, 2009 at 6:59 pm (Learning 2.0, access, creativity, innovation, intellectual freedom, leadership, management, nonfiction, philosophizing, professional development, reader's advisory, reviews)

Previously-scheduled train of thought sidelined by a random idea!

I believe in fair wages for all.  I also believe that folks who are in business for themselves have the right to decide for themselves just what constitutes “fair” and charge for their services accordingly.  My blue-collar roots rankle, however, whenever I get a catalog that pitches leadership seminars for $1200 a pop, not including transportation / accommodation costs.

And it’s not because I begrudge them one iota.  Nope.  Successful people inspire me, because if they can achieve their dreams–often despite major hardships–then I pretty much have no excuse, given the relative privileges and advantages I possess.  However, narrowing the gap between where I am (namely, unable to afford a $1200 seminar) and where I would like to be (able to afford the $1200 seminar but doing something else with that money instead) is what proves tricky.

Ergo, while leafing through Yet Another Pricey Catalog and muttering invective under my breath, I decided that what I’ve now come to call the August Wilson Rule applies just as much to leadershp as it does to anything else in life:  if you can’t afford it, use the library.

I’ve sung Mr. Wilson’s praises before, but here’s a quick summary for those of you who haven’t heard that particular tune:  while attending a Pittsburgh high school, playwright August Wilson was unjustly accused of plagiarism.  As a result, he dropped out of school and decided to educate himself at the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh.  He came in every day and got himself a world-class education with our collection, and for his efforts he received a diploma.  Currently, he is the only person in the world with an educational credential from CLP.

I’d like to be #2, but let’s not get carried away here.  At least, not just yet.

Okay, let’s get just a little bit carried away, shall we?  Here’s something I’ll try in 2010 to see how it works out:  I will read at least one current book on leadership every month, and review it here at Alchemy.  Then I’ll add it to a page called “The August Wilson Leadership Academy (Patent Pending)” so that you’ll be able to skim the list and see whether or not it would be a good fit for your own lifelong learning endeavors.

And just to make it interesting, I’m not going to necessarily pick the books on library leadership.  Nope.  We’re a little odd here at Alchemy, with our strange notions about trying to incorporate what’s useful from the Outside World into library practice.  Besides, there are plenty of other bloggers reviewing the library literature – it will be much more fun for me to try to critically analyze the larger body of leadership writings and try to separate the wheat from the chaff for my peers.

I know, I know – I have some strange ideas about what constitutes a good time.  My girlfiends and I are working on that one, I assure you.

Let me know what you think – I have a couple of drafts in the hopper, so we will hopefully get back to the other things I wanted to talk about before year’s end.  I also had another smashing idea for 2010 that I want to run by you before I vanish for my long New Year’s vacation (I actually forgot to take my three floating holidays this year – somebody, please, save me from myself!).

Tonight is the library board meeting in which the fate of the branches are decided, so I suppose it would make sense to talk about the big white elephant next, once the dust clears.  Stay tuned.

6 Comments

Science / Silence: Notes on a Media Fast

December 4, 2009 at 5:39 pm (Facebook, creativity, fiction, humor, news, personal, philosophizing, professional development, reader's advisory, reviews, traditional library services)

One of my favorite short stories is Ray Bradbury’s “The Pedestrian.”  In a future world, where everyone lives for television, Leonard Mead likes to go walking alone at night.  During one of his pedestrian jaunts, he is arrested and sent to the Psychiatric Center for Research on Regressive Tendencies.  After all, why would anyone wish to be out in the moonlight, drinking in the air, when s/he could be inside staring at a shiny box?

Perhaps I’m exaggerating just a bit for effect, but I felt a little bit like Leonard Mead last week when I gave up media consumption, for science.  If embracing technology is progressive, and eschewing it is regressive, I wanted to create my own little Center for Regressive Tendencies and see what horrible things would happen as a result of stepping out of the lifestream for a little while.

I’m pleased to report that nobody died, and nothing caught fire.  I did, however, learn a lot about my media consumption patterns, including a few things that surprised me.  And, because I’m human, I totally fell off the wagon on one memorable occasion…but in an unexpected way.

Positive effects

Overall, it was a relief to step away from the near-constant stream of news and information modern culture provides.  While I missed the psychological rituals around reading a print newspaper, for example, doing without the actual content made me feel lighter and happier.  Not once was I tempted to skim news online.  Co-workers, most of whom didn’t know I was media fasting, clued me in on everything important happening locally and nationally, so I was still able to discuss current events with patrons. 

When I did engage with job-related technology functions, I did so with a critical eye toward how much time I spent doing it, and whether or not it was to my ultimate benefit.  After two days of analyzing job-related newsreading, I was able to unsubscribe from a lot of services, as they were either repetitive or not adding value to my workday.  I found out I could fuss over Eleventh Stack and CLPicks much less than I do, and still maintain high standards.  Best of all, I felt a lot less frazzled and a lot more clear-headed.  It’s one thing to know, logically, that you can’t process all the information that’s out there; it’s another thing entirely to feel the practical effects of voluntarily limiting what you consume.

At the reference desk, I turned the media fast into a creative challenge:  how many questions could I answer without turning to the world wide web or a database?  Many of them, as it turns out.  Never underestimate the power of the humble dictionary, thesaurus, almanac, phone book, and encyclopedia to get you what you need.  At my library, we also keep Consumer Reports (including the buying guides), Morningstar and ValueLine at desk reference too, and with good reason, because they’re asked for a lot. 

[What's interesting there is that even when we let people know they have web options for accessing these materials, 9 times out of 10 they still prefer print - just life in the magic print-centric bubble that is Pittsburgh, I reckon...but I digress.]

Overall, I found myself slowing down more, paying closer attention to things, and, as a result, becoming a lot more efficient and effective.  I was even able to make time to do things I’ve been trying to do for months, like reorganizing my work space.   This tendency carried over to personal projects I’d been working on, allowing me to win National Novel Writing Month three days early, finish a number of other writing tasks, and spend a lot more time with my family, friends, and cats. I walked for miles and miles, because I could, and I even made homemade pizza crusts for the first time in years (until you’ve tasted my homemade pizzas, you simply cannot understand what a boon this is to humanity).

Loveliest of all, I read a lot of books.  Slowly.  In print.  I savored every moment I could spent with a physical text object in my hands, curled up in a comfy place, with coffee by my side.   Here’s a partial list:

The Adept, Kurtz/Harris. First in a series. Fantasy fiction, but with a tone like Alexander McCall Smith’s Isabel Dalhousie series. If you like your magick high, crispy and historically accurate, you might enjoy this one.

The Ancient Mysteries Reader, Haining, ed. Poe! Machen! Bulwer-Lytton! Love! Er, that is to say, if you fancy rare 19th-century gems of fact and fiction, this is your book.

Rainbow’s End, Vinge. This one’s singular: loads of conspiracy theory and politics wrapped around medical advances that incorporate technology with humanity. Oh, and a white rabbit. A lovely, head-scratcher of a novel for those who like their sci-fi complicated and a touch pessimistic.

The Stories of John Cheever. For my fiction class, but no less lovely for all that. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed classic stories like “The Enormous Radio” and “The Swimmer.” It was lovely, too, to discover just how deeply his gifts ran through the canon of his work. They don’t write ‘em like that anymore.

Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos, various. Some Clark Ashton Smith stories that were “new to me,” as well as My First Machen (and if that’s not yet a stuffed animal, look out patent office, because here I come). Lovecraft is okay, I suppose, but I’m far fonder of what his friends and literary descendants did with what he gave them.

The Complete Stories, O’Connor. Also for my fiction class. When you read Flannery O’Connor, you can feel the genius rising up from the page. What’s most beautiful about this collection is the arrangement, which follows the order of original publication. Best of all, the first story in the collection, “The Geranium”–which appeared as part of O’Connor’s MFA thesis–grows and blossoms into “Judgement Day,” a revision she published near the end of her life. Beautiful fiction, bookended by the growth of genius. Also, peacocks!

Desert Gothic, Waters. This prizewinning short story collection caught my eye by virtue of its title, and kept my eye by virtue of its attention to characterization. Rarely does one care so much about the people one meets in short stories, but I found myself almost believing they were real (no mean feat, given my cynical, critical eye). “Mr. Epstein and the Dealer” and “Mineral and Steel” are the standouts here, but the whole collection is a solid way to pass the time, if you like quality short fiction.

The Elegant Gathering of White Snows, Radish. Reviewed this for Eleventh Stack. I have nothing to add but this: sisterhood is powerful.

I’ll spare you the non-fiction picks. Interested parties please ping – if I took the time to list them, we’d be here all night! Suffice to say, with so many good books to read, being without technology was mostly no problem. There were, however, one or two glitches in the system.

“Negative” Effects

Perhaps “uncomfortable” is a better word. See for yourself.

While most of the media fast proved beneficial, there were some less-than-pleasant aspects to it.  For one thing, about four days in, I started really missing Facebook.

When you get to be my age–suffice to say I’m one of those people over thirty you’re not supposed to trust–you know a lot of people.  Not as many as those of you further along in life, but a lot.  And, the economy being what it is, not all of them live in Pittsburgh.  Thanks to Facebook, I’m in close contact with people from grade school chums through library school peers.  Having them all in the same place is even better, because then they get to meet each other; it makes me deeply happy to know that I’ve introduced tons of people who originally had nothing but me in common, and now have solid, established friendships of their own.

So, solitary creature that I am, I still enjoy being social, on my own terms, and Facebook made that easy.  Without it–even though I had a pretty full social calendar–I still felt disconnected from a lot of people I care about.  Avoiding it was psychologically challenging, and when I logged in at the end of the week, I felt re-connected…even though, technically, I hadn’t missed anything life or career-changing.

I also missed YouTube like crazy.  As, I suspect, a compensation for my extremely poor eyesight, I’m very sensitive to sound, highly musical.  There’s always a tune in my head, and I like to listen to music while I do mundane tasks.

A little silence was wholesome and beneficial for me, to be sure.  The funny thing about silence, though, is that the more you have of it, the more clarity you achieve in certain areas…and that cuts both ways.  I had a number of epiphanies, both bright and dark, and learned quite a few things about myself that I didn’t even realize I was covering up by having a constant soundtrack.  Ultimately this is for the good, but it was a somewhat uncomfortable process to go through.

Finally, I did fall off the wagon once, in a very big way that I did not expect.

My dislike of television is legendary around here.  I don’t own a set, and I’m really fussy about what series I check out on DVD.  This could be because, television-wise, I’m a serial monogamist.  I like my Dr. Who old-school, my X-Files episodes with no UST whatsoever, and my vampires non-negotiably non-sparkly, kthnxbye. I am, in short, a television snob.

And then, straight out of left field, Torchwood.

I’d been on hold for this forever, as the wait list was very long. I had no way of knowing my number would come up during my media fast. I was just going to watch one episode anyway, to be polite, and not hurt a co-worker’s feelings. So I figured this would be no big deal, a teensy little rule-break.

I didn’t expect to fall in love with the darn thing. Much like meeting the perfect romantic partner when you least expect it, watching Torchwood hit me like a ton of bricks, and I am now an unapologetic, unabashed Capt. Jack Harkness fangirl.

Darn you, sir. Darn you all to heck! You know who you are. :)

In all seriousness, this isn’t really a bad thing either. Quality television shows are rare, and since nobody will sell me an a la carte package with just BBC America in it, I’m always grateful to get the scoop on the good stuff. But do I really need to get sucked into another television show? What about all the writing I need to do, and all those as-yet unkneaded homemade pizza crusts?

Sigh.

Outcomes

I’ve come away from this little experiment more convinced than ever that there are definite benefits to putting limits on one’s media intake and social technology consumption.  At the same time, I’ve also come to realize just how much I depend on certain media for some things, and am actively questioning whether or not that’s what I really want.

In other words, moderation and critical thinking, two things that seem sorely lacking from many fields of discourse these days.  It’s unfortunate that moving more slowly on some matters, or exhibiting  a degree of skepticism and/or scientific inquiry, is perceived as regressive.  I’m a huge fan of changes and advances, but, I would argue, those changes and advances should be playtested.  Anything embraced uncritically, and without limits, has the potential to do great harm.

Indeed, I think, it gives us societies like the one that scorned poor Leonard Mead.  Enchanted by the glow from their television sets, the deluded populace probably never stopped to consider the moon.  Let us hope that, as library scientists, we can apply the same standards to our own media participation, keep what is useful, and reject what is, ultimately, distracting us from the other valuable realities all around us.

In other words, seriously, you need to try one of my homemade pizzas.  Just call or text before you come over; I might be watching Torchwood.

Things I want to write about at some point include:

  • the day I spent at my library as a patron instead of a worker
  • how a library vibe differs from a coffeeshop vibe, IMHO, and why the twain should not necessarily meet
  • a news update from the big white elephant, who was recently put on a diet (whew)

Until next week sometime, however, I remain your cheerfully irreverent alchemist.  Have a good weekend!

6 Comments

Sorkinesque (a day in the life, part I)

July 29, 2009 at 6:04 pm (ALA Annual 2009, Twitter, blogging, collection development, conferences, databases, day in the life, humor, leadership, management, news, personal, philosophizing, professional development, reader's advisory, traditional library services)

Intro/Backstory
Yes, it really did take me that long to finish and post those meeting minutes!  The reasons why will become apparent shortly.  But first, some backstory.

Last week various colleagues posted the news in various forums that another one of those “day in the library life” blogging events was going to take place.  I love those things.  I never sign up for them, though, because, realistically, if I stopped to write down everything I was doing in a given moment, I’d never get anything done.  And then I thought, well, what better way to demonstrate that a normal day in my life is very much like an episode of Aaron Sorkin’s Sports Night than to take a crack at it?

[Those of you who don't know from Sports Night are cordially invited to check out the DVD and see what all the fuss is about - even though starting with anything other than the pilot might seem counterintuitive, I highly recommend starting with "Dear Louise," "Shoe Money Tonight," and "Small Town" to get a feel for the characters, their workplace, and their relationship to each other. It's a wonderful show about a close-knit group of professionals who are extremely passionate about what they do, to the point of appearing like complete ciphers to folks who don't work in their field. Sound like any other professional folks you know? :) ]

So, without further ado, here is a reconstruction, based on my frantically scribbled notes, of everything that took place in my library life on Monday, July 27, 2009.

Library Alchemy: A Day in the Life

Part I – Off-desk

9:30:  Check the desk schedule, add my desk shifts to my Outlook calendar.  Exchange witty banter with colleagues.  Laugh self into pancreatic pain.

9:40:  Finish up ALA expense report and bring it to my boss.  Chat with boss about database stuff, which segues into a philosophical discussion of future staffing models for the reference department.  Return to office.  Field questions from colleague about the exact same stuff was just discussing with boss.  More philosophy ensues.

10:00 Open up e-mail.  Answer the time-sensitive stuff.  Answer flurry of questions about Twitter and HootSuite.  Get another chunk of the Twitter gang signed up with HootSuite accounts and schedule trainings for those who want it.  Discover the “most popular Tweets” feature in HootSuite and squee over it.  Put aside a whack of database reference cards to give to a branch colleague at the Friday meeting.  More e-mail with various blog staffers in an attempt to coordinate some guest posts for September. Decline to take a call from a vendor and proceed to feel guilty about it.

A colleague drops by to check in with me about the school tour I’m giving this afternoon.  The group  has changed its mind several times on whether or not it wants catalog and database training.  The colleague and I decide that asking them what they want is the best solution.  Photocopy catalog and database training handouts for tour group.  Run over training in my head while at the photocopier.  A colleague walks by, greeting me with the mysterious phrase, “PEANUT SAUCE!”  I respond with the countersign, “SCALLIONS!”  Tamp down nervousness about giving catalog and database training, which never seems to go away no matter how many tours and trainings I do.  Accept that fear is normal.  Recite the Litany Against Fear anyway.

11:00 Break time. Decide to take a walk around the building. Ask colleague how her Friday evening presentation went. Ask another colleague about bloggish things. Say hello and good morning to countless other colleagues. Receive a lovely gift: an inspirational photo of a dandelion with the phrase “I release all that does not serve me” written on it. Hang photo on bulletin board.

11:15 Head over to book order. Discover that all of the non-fiction books mentioned in the 7/26 New York Times Book Review have either already been purchased, or are on order. Do vague skippy victory dance. Dive into the other ordering tools with gusto.  Decide that I should probably call back the vendor whose call I dodged and just tell her “thanks, no thanks” right up front. Get vendor’s voice mail. Quietly rejoice. Deliver polite, professional message and hang up, feeling 100s of pounds lighter.

12:00 Lunch. Chat with colleague in lunchroom about violins and music librarianship. Consume leftover peanut noodles with zest and start reading Work the System. Approve wholeheartedly of its emphasis on systems thinking and personal responsibility. Speculate on how its principles could be applied to my work life. Finish peanut noodles and head to the post office to mail a package to my mom. Study lines for the play I’m currently acting in while stuck in line at the post office.

1:00  Log into Eleventh Stack. Clean out spam filter, look at stats. Start rearranging widgets in sidebar based on a conversation taking place on the blog team distribution list. Start draft of next week’s blog post. Proofread a few scheduled posts. Read the post du jour and marvel again at how many awesome, creative people I’m surrounded with.

Log into the library’s Twitter account. Check for new followers. Block spam followers. Read followers’ tweets. Make mental note to remind everybody to use #pittsburgh in their tweets. Ping the rest of the Twitter team about HootSuite signup and training.

2:00 Meet the school tour group in the teen department. Immediately lose all normal vision when contact lens slides off center. Attempt several times to correct this subtly. Fail miserably. Start tour anyway, blind. Ignore rude noises produced by high school males and charitably assume that they are involuntary. Give tour of first and second floors, with special emphasis on Job and Career Center, based on group leader’s interests.

Ask about catalog and database training. Teacher says, “Whatever you think is best.” Decide to give the best catalog and database training ever and lead students to computer lab. Turn on projector. Wait. Fiddle with projector, silently coaxing it to cooperate. Decide projector has developed selective deafness. Give training without projector, using the computer at the lab attendant’s desk. Give thanks once again for theater and improv training.

3:00 Reassure long line of patrons waiting outside computer lab that yes, they can use the computers now. Check e-mail and discover that the wireless is down. Discover, also, that there are questions about my ALA reimbursement form. Silently consider starting a goat farm.

Start planning for Friday’s database committee meeting. Finish writing up June EREC meeting minutes, send to group, and post to ACLA wiki. Skim newsreader. Read an article that makes my heart sink and e-mail it to pertinent (and impertinent) parties. Skim “kept as new” items and decide to keep them marked because someday I will pay them the full attention they deserve, really!

Run downstairs to get coffee. Run into teen patron at coffeeshop. Engage in casual, stealth readers’ advisory with said teen. Run into hard-to-schedule colleague and set up a training time that is technically after my regular work hours, but is the only thing that will fit her schedule. Run back upstairs to my office.

Make list of tasks for my intern to work on on Tuesday. Walk down the hall to resolve the questions about my ALA reimbursement. Notice that the hallway smells strongly of french fries. Observe to colleague that, if the library were a musical, it would be at this point that we all burst into song about the joy of french fries. Stand still with colleague for a few seconds and imagine what this would sound like. Clear up questions about ALA reimbursement. Walk back to my office, inhaling deeply and smiling to self.

See? And we haven’t even made it to the reference desk yet! That deserves its own special installment, which I hope to deliver on Friday. Stay tuned!

1 Comment

Booktalks and Boundaries

May 13, 2009 at 5:38 pm (presentations, professional development, reader's advisory, traditional library services)

Welcome back to the wild world of Alchemy!

Yesterday I gave a presentation called “New, Now & Next:  A Road Map for Contemporary Fiction” for Pittsburgh OASIS, the local branch of a national program for seniors with an emphasis on lifelong learning. This was the same presentation I gave at Pitt and CMU, and I stubbornly maintained my position of having no slides or visual aides, save one handout. Nope – I like giving this presentation because it’s good old-fashioned booktalking. Swap out your titles and it’s a whole new ballgame every time.

Titles I booktalked included:

This Is Chick Lit, Lauren Baratz-Logsted, ed.

This Is Not Chick Lit, Elizabeth Merrick, ed.

Tales From the Farm, Jeff Lemire.

Jimmy Corrigan, The Smartest Kid on Earth, Chris Ware.

2666, Roberto Bolano.

You Poor Monster, Michael Kun.

The Icarus Girl, Helen Oyeyemi.

Then We Came to the End, Joshua Ferris.

The Raw Shark Texts, Steven Hall.

The Coldest Winter Ever, Sister Souljah.

Flash Fiction Forward, James Thomas and Robert Shepard, eds.

And You Invited Me In, Cheryl Moss Tyler.

Kind of all over the map, those picks, but that was part of my point: fiction these days is more exciting and diverse than ever before, and there are many new things to try. The audience was wonderful, chiming in with titles they liked, and observations of their own, so the presentation was free to go in wonderful directions I hadn’t planned for. I rather like that in a presentation!

Goodness knows I had more than enough material as it was, so much so that I deliberately moved some things around – the last time I gave it, for example, we never got to urban fiction, graphic novels, or the GLBT collection, and I definitely wanted to highlight those.  I also made sure to stress that you don’t have to like everything, and invoked Nancy Pearl’s 50-page rule.  Based on the feedback I got from the attendees and the organizers (another fine partnership brought to you by ACLA!), all went well. 

After I agreed to speak for OASIS, I quietly made the decision that it was the last speaking engagement I would accept for 2009. This is not because I wasn’t having a wonderful time – far from it! It’s a privilege to be able to speak to people, and, INFP on the Meyers-Briggs aside, there’s enough of the performance ham left in me that I get a big kick out of public speaking. And yet, a librarian’s got to draw the line somewhere.

What I’d realized was that, somewhere in the flurry of book reviews and other committments, that I’d already promised to do enough library service work above and beyond my regular duties that it will take me the rest of 2009 to fill my committments! Add the Emerging Leaders committee work for 2010/2011, and, well…something had to go.

This is sad, in a way, because of course I’m interested in everything, and I want to do everything. But I would also like to be a person of integrity, who delivers on the things she promises in a timely fashion. If that can be without all-nighters and hair-pulling, so much the better!

So, how do you say no when your plate is full, and the invites keep coming? Here are some strategies that have worked for me.

  • Ask the person if you can get back to them.  Then wait 48 hours and rehearse your no.  Or drop a few other committments so you can say “yes” if you really want to.
  • Explain that you are doing X, Y, and Z, and that to take on Q you will have to drop something.  Then put it back on them to choose what is a higher priority (very effective with bosses, though I think mine is on to me. :) ).
  • Recommend a colleague in your place.  NOTE:  This is not open license to get revenge on a co-worker who has done you dirty.  It is, however, a great way to give other people an opportunity to shine, especially if they are more skilled in the task than you are!  Remember:  you’re marvelous, but nobody loves a praise hog.
  • Negotiate a reduced assignment.  Maybe you can team up with a peer to give the presentation, or write one article instead of two, or get a longer due date/deadline.  Most people who need your help will be more than happy to work with you on a win-win solution.

If all else fails, here are 100 easy ways to say no you can try. Something that could be fun would be to roll a few dice to determine which excuse you should use…or, if you’re feeling confident, you could just set your default to #9. :)

The rest of my week has been the usual, with a nice big scoop of keeping up with 23 Things ‘N@ on top! A lot of the participants are really getting into the spirit of exploration – I’ll be back on Friday with some examples of cool blogs they created this week.

1 Comment

Book Review: Slow Reading

April 14, 2009 at 12:26 pm (Library 2.0, collection development, professional development, reader's advisory, reviews, traditional library services)

First in an occasional series of reviews for books published by Library Juice Press and/or Litwin Books. These are volunteer reviews, written gratis, done in the interest of getting coverage for library issues and publications that don’t always get as much professional press as they should.  Any omissions or errors are my own, and do not reflect the intentions of either the author or the publisher.  As ever, though, I pull no punches, but call ‘em like I see ‘em.

The Book:

Miedema, John. Slow Reading. Duluth, MN: Litwin Books, 2009. 78 pg. ISBN: 978-0-9802004-4-7. $12.00.

Summary:

In five short chapters/essays, Miedema defines slow reading and mounts a cogent defense of it in the face of technological advances that frequently predict the death of print.  Stressing the need for multiple reading experiences and ways of learning, Miedema’s short, yet powerful, book, should be required reading for library school students and library management who do not hold the MLIS, and have therefore been removed from the professional discourse around ways of reading and service to readers.

Analysis:

Face it:  if you had a dollar for every time you heard one of the technorati say that “print is dead”, you’d be able to thumb your nose at your 403(b) and set sail for the sun-drenched island of your choice.  Alas, until now, the response to such a deeply ignorant statement has been the sputtering incoherence of thousands of library workers who know better, but can’t cogently explain why because we’re too busy picking our jaws up off the floor or scraping our exploded brains off the ceiling. 

Thanks to John Miedema, those of us who recognize and advocate the value of books and paper now have a catchphrase of our own, a scholarly framework within which to compose our arguments, and a physical object to wave in the faces of those who would march us off to twopointopia willy-nilly.  “Slow reading,” a term grounded in the same ideology that informed the Slow Movement, is defined and contextualized by a body of scholarship from library science as well as literary criticism, and exemplifies a middle way that acknowledges various ways of reading and meaning-making in a calm, reasonable fashion.

Chapter highlights and key talking points include:

  • The roles of pleasure and comprehension in reading
  • The role of readers’ advisory, charmingly called “an uncertainty principle of library science.”
  • The truth behind such myths as “the paperless office” and the ways in which digital technologies have caused various aspects of the traditional library to thrive rather than perish.
  • Specific features and processes that distinguish reading print from reading online.
  • “E-books as metadata for print books” [a personal favorite section here - reviewer = biased]
  • A short history of the Slow Movement and its implications for reading and libararies.
  • Bibliotherapy in the context of “The Psychology of Slow Reading” [another underappreciated aspect of reading, IMHO]
  • Tips for becoming a slow reader [this short section could, and probably should, become its own book].

One of my greatest fears about librarianship is that we’re in danger, as a profession, of throwing the baby out with the bathwater.  One of my frustations with our profession is that those people with opposing viewpoints or alternative solutions express themselves either so stridently that their opponents cannot find an entry point, or so quietly that their voices go entirely undetected.  Slow Reading strikes the perfect balance between these two extremes with credible scholarship and a concerned, yet measured, tone that allows the reader to accept Miedema’s arguments and weigh them against his/her own personal and professional experience.  This book is an essential purchase for library science curricula as well as public libraries in communities where one can obtain an MLIS.  It is also strongly recommended for medium-to-large academic libraries with strong programs in the humanities, as much of the research here will interest scholars in that discipline. 

In fact, I believe in this book so much that I will gladly share my galley with one lucky Alchemy reader who wants to learn more.  If you leave a comment on this entry between now and 4/16, you will be entered into a drawing to receive my review copy, gratis.  In fact, I’ll even pay for postage if you happen to be a faraway librarian.  Sorry, though – I can only make this offer to one reader – as the old-school record commercials used to say, if you don’t win, “You’ll have to get your own.”

Next regular update will be a project update and possible commentary on the astonishing head-scratcher of a National Library Week that’s off and running with a bang (Amazon FAIL) and a whimper (RIP Judith Krug :( ).

8 Comments

Booked up

March 31, 2009 at 5:35 pm (nonfiction, professional development, reader's advisory, religion, reviews, social justice, traditional library services)

Literally AND metaphorically.  This past week has been the usual blend of alchemical-wonderful, but there’s also been a lot of reading going on.

I review for both LJ and the SRRT newsletter, which is an interesting exercise in contrasts.  LJ’s short, severe 175-word limit forces me to be specific, whereas with SRRT’s 500-word relative ramble, I can be a bit more poetic about a book. For LJ I review fiction, which guarantees my degrees in English and the time spent learning how to read a text critically will never go to waste; it also really forces me to think about library budgets, appeal factors, etc. and make sure my review gets packed with the sort of helpful details a selector in a hurry might need. For SRRT the focus is on non-fiction works that somehow address social concerns. This somewhat selfishly allows me to praise wonderful books I am already reading anyway, and that might not get many reviews in the professional or popular press. 

Due to an overcrowded plate, I actually just turned down a review opportunity from SRRT, which disappoints me beyond belief, because I was going to review Sarah Miles’s Take This Bread, a memoir in which a lifelong atheist with a background in political and social justice work experiences a radical conversion based on the principles of actually feeding the hungry, as opposed to just talking about it (or, heavens forbid, forming yet another committee or study group about it). If you have ever said the words “liberation theology” out loud; live or work in a community where hunger is a critical issue; belong to a faith community that would like to be more active in feeding the poor; or wonder how on earth anyone managed to reconcile faith and action in a hands-on practical way, you should read this book.

I’m still slowly making my way through that package of galleys from Rory Litwin, which is fitting given that the first book I’ll review here is all about why reading slowly is a darned good idea. You might be asking yourself, though, why we’re bothering with book reviews anyway, since newspapers are dying and nobody reads anymore, and besides, won’t Google scan it? The answers to those questions will also appear in the review. For a sneak peek at topic to come, click here.

ETA: I nearly forgot to mention that I’ve also contributed a review to Litterbox Magazine, a new local online literary journal that will go live tomorrow (I’m telling you today so you don’t think I’m joking. :) ) The book I reviewed, Literature and War, is another example of the kind of book that doesn’t get nearly enough ink, and the kind of assignment that lets a librarian fulfill his/her ethical obligations while discharging her/his professional ones.

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PaLA Conference – Tuesday

November 11, 2008 at 7:58 pm (conferences, databases, innovation, leadership, nonfiction, philosophizing, presentations, professional development, reader's advisory, social justice)
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The day’s not quite over yet, but I wanted to ring in and give you the highlights. Right now I’m really excited and inspired about the library profession, in spite of the challenges ahead. Here’s why:

 

  1. A meeting of the Electronic Resources Roundtable, of which I am a member.  The outgoing chair is working with the incoming chair on ways the roundtable can be more active.  I volunteered for the planning board, which will do a lot of virtual work, and pitched an idea to one of the other attendees who, like me, likes to write!  So, stay tuned for updates and innovations from us…
  2. Nonfiction readers’ advisory.  Barry Trott’s session was excellent – I’ve had the privilege of seeing him before, but those who haven’t can at least get his handout here (scroll down to Tuesday).  Nota bene:  NO slideshow / powerpoint.  Nothing wrong with presentation software, it’s true, but it’s refreshing to hear a really good public speaker who can engage an audience sans props.
  3. The exhibits!  I am returning home with several leads on electronic resources, and just plain cool things, to share with the other librarians.  One of these is Generations Online, an extremely inexpensive way to help seniors learn to use the internet easily.  Given that service to seniors is a CLP priority, and the need is definitely there throughout the county, this could be huge!
  4. Norma Blake!  2008 Librarian of the Year, y’know.  She talked about the future of libraries, navigating change, and ways organizations can make that possible.  Good communication and transparency were chief among these.  She also declared that you can teach people job-specfic skills, but you can’t teach a good attitude.  Spot on!  I think the next step, though, is examining servant leadership, and ways libraries can bring out the best in their existing staff.
  5. The PaLA annual meeting.  Those of you who nodded off at the word “meeting” would have been impressed and inspired by what took place there.  Allegheny County was well represented by award-winners and office-holders.  Special props go to former classmate Colleen Miles, who is setting the world on fire at the Upper St. Clair Library!  For her efforts, she was named the 2008 Best New Librarian in PA, a well-deserved honor!
  6. I was also greatly moved by  the brief statement issued by Alexia Hudson, whom I had the pleasure of meeting earlier in the conference.  Alexia, a former Emerging Leader herself, spoke on behalf of Philadelphia’s libraries, and requested that discussion of the impending closures be put on the next PaLA board meeting agenda.  I did not know, and was distressed to hear, that the closures are targeted for areas that serve predominately minority populations and also do not have access to school libraries.  This, in my opinion, is unacceptable, and I applaud Alexia for taking the initiative in instigating further discussion and action.

And while we’re on the topic of leadership, I’d like to point out what might be obvious,  but never hurts to repeat:  we are the librarians we’ve been waiting for.  Colleen, Alexia, Erin, Kelley, Bonnie, Karen, Charity, Holly, and ALL the young PA librarians, including yours truly (though I suspect I am older than most of you!).  It falls to us to decide how library world is going to be.  We need the help and support of our more experienced colleagues, and belief in ourselves, to transform the obstacles ahead into opportunities.

And if you think that’s overly sunshiney, wait until you hear my other lofty goal:  all the librarians from Lackawanna county who received awards were extremely kind and supportive of each other, exchanging hugs, giving standing ovations, and applauding wildly.  I would like to see Allegheny County’s librarians showing each other that much love and support in our efforts.

See?  This is what happens when you send alchemists to professional conferences.  I’ll leave it to you to decide whether those funds were well-spent.

For now, though, I’ve got to get ready for the awards banquet, and get packing.  I’m taking an early flight home tomorrow so I can do some last-minute preparation for the talk I’m giving at the library school tomorrow night (my fabulous boss will be the co-presenter, and temper my post-conference zeal nicely, I imagine).  It’s for Barry C.’s Adult Resources and Services class.  The topic is databases, and I’m thrilled to be able to talk about what we do, as well as some of the changes coming over the horizon at CLP.

Until we meet again….

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PaLA Conference – Monday

November 10, 2008 at 7:58 pm (Learning 2.0, Library 2.0, conferences, humor, innovation, leadership, nonfiction, philosophizing, professional development, reader's advisory, web resources)
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Day two of PaLA has been fun and educational! For my morning session, I attended What’s New in Library School, and was inspired by the presenters. It’s only been four years since my own library school experience, but there have been a lot of changes in a short time. Most useful here was the description of what it’s like to take classes online; most inspiring was the brief discussion of information ethics. Employers seeking librarians will have a talented, intelligent crop from which to pick!

Today’s poster sessions included one from fellow Emerging Leader Erin Dorney, who blogs at Library Scenester. Her library is a combination academic-public one, which is intruging, and her poster was about her efforts to promote her library in her capacity as Outreach Librarian. Very cool!

This afternoon’s pick was difficult: Bary Trott and reader’s advisory, or more Web 2.0? Given that there will be a second RA session tomorrow, specifically focusing on non-fiction, I opted for the Web 2.0 option (it’s okay to fangirl fellow librarians – stalking, however, is not cool. :) .

At any rate, Three Approaches to Web 2.0 Teaching sounded promising, and was. The evaluation of Web 2.0 tools for creating subject guides, in particular, was helpful for those of us just beginning to explore this area. Given that many of our own patrons require instruction, though, the entire session inspired me to think of different ways to design and teach courses that would help everyone in my service area, staff and patrons alike, develop some new skills.

I was especially intrigued that wikis trumped blogs at Cabrini College for instruction delivery. The presenter pointed out that their blog didn’t receive many comments, which only fuels my ongoing philosophical debate over whether blogs really facilitate conversations or provide entertainment / enlightenment. Is anyone studying this? Hm.

So, here I sit, contemplating dinner and thinking about all the great people I’ve met today, between sessions, and at lunch, etc. There are so many different ways to be of service as a librarian! Listening and gathering information will, I hope, help me be an effective contributor to the Emerging Leaders project to which I’ve been assigned: we’ll be continuing the work done by a prior year’s workgroup, revisiting the marketing plan for LibraryCareers.org. Given my track record for recruiting people to the profession (one more, and I think I get steak knives from Pitt), I think it’s a good project fit. People just don’t know how amazing and diverse librarians and library work really are. It might not be very “traditional,” but anything I can do to help ameliorate that definitely strikes me as worthwhile.

Tomorrow will be an early-start, action-packed session-fest, so stay tuned…

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October: Projects and Whatnot

October 9, 2008 at 5:42 pm (databases, humor, leadership, memoir, music, personal, philosophizing, presentations, professional development, reader's advisory, reviews)

The last few weeks have been pretty intense.  The fall semester’s in full swing here in Oakland, and when your library is the peanut-buttery filling between the crusty loaves of Pitt and CMU, you’re kept hopping.  A lot.

I think the best moment, though, was when we had six reference librarians at the desk helping with the elementary school tour group that ended up staying all day, doing research for their History Day projects.  Imagine reference service as a basketball game.  Zone defense, as opposed to person-to-person, of course.  It was awesome, in multiple senses of the term!

Other things October hath wrought:

The database committee met to vote on some renewals, and entertain some suggestions I had.  Most were approved.  Essentially, I want to expand the committee’s charge to include not only the selection of databases, but also the promotion of electronic resources and training both staff and patrons to use them.  This was met with much more support and enthusiasm than I expected, so once again I’m back to the brainstorming board, dreaming dreams and scheming schemes.

LJ and SRRT both sent me new books to review, so I’m knee-deep in reading and note-taking there.  Given that this is an “extra-curricular” kind of thing, it’s challenging to make room for it in a day, especially when there’s so much guilty pleasure reading to be done.  All the same, this is one of those things that, ultimately, falls under “service to one’s peers,” so I’m definitely down with sacrificing a lunch hour or five.

Speaking of school tours, I just gave one this morning to a writing class from Pitt.  The focus was on finding magazines and journals, and also covered how to research publication markets.  Secondhand info from a colleague, who had a friend in the class, relates it was a job well-done.  It’s nice to be able to put one’s pre-librarian teaching experience into service for the institution, and there’s just as much of a need for BI and LI, I think, in the public sector as there is in academe.

The PaLA presentation (dun dun dun!).  My chief concern is making us all look good while still being faithful to the notion that Library 2.0 is going to look different at CLP than it does at other institutions.  Why?  Our patrons have different needs.  The digital divide is a big concern here (see above about BI and LI), and while we’re taking strides in the technological realm, there are still a lot of traditional library services that our patrons need and want.  The key is balance, a middle path.

As I have commented elsewhere this week, moderation is not “sexy,” per se – it does not boost one’s Technorati rating, or vault one into the library blogosphere spotlight.  It does, however, help staff achieve goals and objectives, and helps everyone who works in a library deliver excellent service.  The profession needs dreamers and doers.  I perceive part of my job as negotiating a middle ground between both kinds of folk.

There’s more (there’s always more), but I would like to make a plan for tackling tomrorow’s tasks before I go home.  What are you working on?  I’d love to hear.

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Reading suggestions for a snowy Saturday

December 15, 2007 at 4:23 pm (Library 2.0, blogging, fiction, nonfiction, philosophizing, reader's advisory, reviews)

Having completed my Meebo feasability study, I’m between 2.0 projects at the moment. Next week I’ll dive back into RSS, and I really want to finish my blogging plan. Of all the 2.0 initiatives we could pursue, I think it’s the easiest to implement, and the best possible use of the least possible amount of staff time.

For now, though, it’s a slow, snowy day at the reference desk, and we haven’t talked about books for a while. Ergo, I give you some readerly suggestions for your weekend.

  • For the foodies, Laura Schenone’s The Lost Ravioli Recipes of Hoboken details the author’s search for her ancestor Adalgiza’s infamous ravioli recipe.  Part cultural history, part confessional, Schenone’s prose is warm and accessible, and her search for order, structure and stability (in life, as well as in ravioli) are bittersweetly compelling.
  • Prefer your family dramas fictional?  For madcap adventures in a warmer climate, try The Hummingbird Wizard, by Meredith Blevins.  The Szabo women don’t mess around when it comes to their men, and they certainly don’t let a little murder stand in their way.  Hapless Annie, her adversarial mother-in-law, Mina, and her boozy, bluesy, sister-in-law Capri try to solve the murder of a man all three of them loved, in different ways, and for different reasons.  Snarky, sexy, and funny as all get-out.
  • For a more complex fictional adventure, you might like the linguistically complicated, dreamlike atmosphere of The Labyrinth.   Catherynne Valente builds a sumptuous world in which a woman (perhaps) tries to find her way out of (possibly) a labyrinth (maybe).  Steeped in uncertainty, this lush, complex train of symbols reads more like an epic prose poem than a novel.  That’s not a complaint.
  • If Valente’s work left you a little dazed and confused, you might want to turn to Joan Gould’s work for a little clarity.  Spinning Straw Into Gold examines the various phases of women’s lives, and explicates the fairy tales (both classic and contemporary) that can hold the clues to navigating through each stage.  Who knew getting married was a bit like being a selkie?  What’s a selkie, you ask?  Pick up this book, and find out.

If my book picks aren’t your cup of tea, check out what other CLP staffers are reading this month. Book picks are one area where I think a blog would definitely be an asset in our library system – think of how many employees we have, and how diverse their tastes are. We could offer the public a little something every day. Just one more 2.0 dream to have as the snow comes wafting down…

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