Saving the World with a Glue Gun

                So, my brother-in-law and family are away for the holidays and I’m on house sitting duty, which means I have to go keep their cats and television company.  I wouldn’t want their tv to feel neglected after all. This turned out to be the perfect opportunity to catch up on all the episodes of the new show The Librarians.  It’s not quite as good as the movies. After all it takes four librarians to replace Noah Wylie.  But still, it has action, librarians, mythology, saving the world from evil; all the things I like in a good story.

                Unfortunately, it’s a little depressing. It reminds me that in the superhero realm I lack skills. I don’t have photographic, super-computing, encyclopedic knowledge. As a matter of fact when it comes to mythology, history, art, the classics, I rather stink. I know a fair amount about genetics, health, animals, particularly livestock, religious history and young adult fantasy literature, but those don’t seem to be a knowledge basis needed to save the world from evil.

                In Jim Hines’ The Libriomancer, the protagonist has the ability to grab weapons from fantasy and science fiction novels. But even if I could grab a weapon out of a book, which I can’t, I don’t know classic fantasy and sci fi well enough to arm myself with all the right books. And Tuesday Next, the literary special agent of Jasper Fforde’s Thursday Next series, is able to jump into books and change what happens. She is apparently responsible for Jane Eyre having a somewhat happy ending, after all.  But this requires her to have a rather exacting knowledge of literature, which I lack.

                It appears I have no hope of being a literary special agent, a libriomancer, or one of The Librarians. That is until I read Firegirl by Tony Abbott with the Homer Jr. High School Book Club. In Firegirl, Tom the protagonist dreams of having superhero powers. But, little ones. He wants some odd power that would be worthless in most situations, but just the right thing in a particular story.  Something like spinning really fast, or rolling uphill, or having a hand made of glue.

                So, I’m trying to figure out a story where a little library superpower can save the world. A power like the ability to find miss-shelved books, or being really good with a toilet bowl plunger, or the ability to glue together small pieces of construction paper into almost anything. Then I’ll say “Ha!” to those Librarians, “You may have super sneaking-photographic memory- living computer- encyclopedic minds with awesome fighting skills, but can you save the world with a glue gun?”

Five Rules for Library Sales People

 

I was at the desk the other day and the phone rang. It was a sales person, which I knew immediately when he said, “Priscilla, how are you?” like we were best buds and he was just calling to catch up on old times. The problem is that most of my best buds bark, they don’t talk.  And the ones that do talk know I don’t do the charmy-smarmy best buds routine. So, the question was kind of a dead giveaway.

I was trying to help a patron and to tell a staff member something, all the time this guy on the phone is talking fast and trying to sell me something. So, I said “No, sorry, I don’t have any money in the budget for that.” Unfortunately, I didn’t slam the phone down. So, he kept talking, but I was looking for a book, and checking something on the computer and not really listening, until he said – “so I’ll just send that along then for your approval, okay? It’s just $300.00”

“No,” I rather screamed at that point. “Did you hear what I said? I said no. Don’t send me anything.” He kept talking, but I just said, “Sorry, I’m busy,” and hung up.

Now, I don’t care whether someone is selling pencils or radio ads, there are five simple rules for sales people to abide by if they don’t want to irritate the librarian.  And really, if you want to sell me something, not annoying me is a good place to start.

No. 1 – don’t fail to identify yourself and just start chitchatting like we are best friends. I know you think you’ve caught me off guard and I’m so busy trying to figure out who you are that I won’t hang up on you. But here’s what you don’t know. I’m a curmudgeon and no matter how forgetful I maybe, I have very few friends. So, I will remember what they sound like and I will know you aren’t one of them.
 
No. 2 – don’t ask me “how I am?” I know you don’t really care how I am. I may not be able to detect all the things a dog can smell, but I recognize insincerity even through the phone line. And I’m not really interested in telling anyone how I am. Unless I’m annoyed and then I don’t have to tell anyone. They know. You should too. Assume I’m annoyed and then you don’t have to ask how I am.

No. 3 – don’t keep talking after I’ve said no.
 
No. 4 –repeating yourself, saying things in a new and different way, saying them faster, all still constitute talking and therefore, when done after I’ve said no, violate rule number 3. Your talking more won’t change reality and it won’t change my mind. Trying to wear me down won’t endear you to me. It will however put you on my bad list. And being on the librarian’s bad list is like being on Santa’s bad list. You will be there for a long time.

No. 5 – flattery won’t save you. Telling me what a great customer I am and how you value my business, will either kick in rule number 2 (i.e. it will stink of insincerity) or if I’ve already said no, it will kick in rule number 3. Which means you are now talking insincerely after I said no and will definitely be getting moldy books for Christmas.

Sales people should learn the five rules for calling the librarian. It won’t actually help make any sales, but it might help me be a kinder, gentler person. And didn’t you say you really wanted to help me, after all?

 

 

Christmas Baking

 

                 I’m becoming my mother. Longing for the nostalgic days of my youth when, at least from this distance, things seemed so much better. Christmas, in particular, brings that out. Because Christmases past always seem so much simpler, more romantic, and just plain fun. Why is that?

                Something about Christmas makes me, the least crafty human being I know, think of doing crafty things. Forget anything to do with sewing. Sewing machines make me break out in hives. And I never have mastered knitting or crocheting. Bruce wouldn’t let me near a jigsaw, for fear I’d lose a few fingers. And even glue and construction paper aren’t a safe bet when I’m around. Baking is my Christmas craft of choice.

I bake a mean pie and cookies are always a good bet. My mother, who gave up on teaching me anything crafty when I was about nine, was the one who got me started on baking. She said those magic words to me. “When you’re ready to learn to cook, read a cook book.” And that I could do.

I’m a messy baker. There’s flour on the floor, and in my hands, and on my face. The knobs to the cupboard doors get all gooey. And I usually end up with goop in my hair and ears. And things don’t always turn out looking like the pictures in the book. The incentive is to get to eat what I make though – so I don’t care what it looks like or how messy it is.

The first Christmas after Bruce and I were married we were, like most newlyweds of our day, broke and without Christmas tree ornaments. We cut down a Charlie Brown tree on the farm we were working on. Wired some of the bottom branches in to the gaps at the top of the tree.  And decorated the thing with gingerbread men and popcorn balls.

Every evening, when we sat and read or watched tv, Bruce would grab a cookie or popcorn ball off the tree to eat. By Christmas, the tree was pretty bare. But still, when I look back on it, it was one of the best Christmases ever.

The problem now is, that baking isn’t about the process. It’s not about being in the kitchen having fun. It’s about getting it done and having something to show for it. Not to sound all Zen, but I think Christmas was more fun when I had less expectation of it and just enjoyed the smell of baking in the kitchen.

So, if you’re looking for a simple Christmas, put away the lists, stop being so productive, and check out a cookbook from the library. Go home, turn on the oven, use your hands to play with the dough. And when you’re done – eat all the cookies yourself!  

It's nice having friends who are writers

The nice thing about having friends who are writers, is that sometimes you don't need to write anything. You can just say "what she said."




Anne Ursu is one of those people - she's way more intelligent and articulate than I am. And she is better at explaining the importance of children's literature, fantasy, and feminism without going ballistic, like I would!




So read this - her latest blog post. You don't want to miss it.

The latest by Gail Caldwell

                For those of you who care about such things, I actually read three adult books this weekend. One of them was Gail Caldwell’s new memoir, New Life, No Instructions. Caldwell’s memoir from a few years back, Let’s Take the Long Way Home, was one of my favorites.  Let’s Take the Long Way Home was the story of her friendship with fellow writer Caroline Knapp, a friendship that had a lot to do with their mutual love of dogs. So, it stands to reason I loved it.

                A dog features in New Life, No Instructions, too. But this story is about growing old and struggling with life changes. Caldwell had polio as an infant and her right leg was always weaker, shorter and caused her to limp. When she hit her fifties though, the pain became intense and she struggled to be able to keep up with her young Samoyed, Tula. Now, aging isn’t something I’ve missed out on, but still the thought that there might come a time that walking dogs would be difficult took my totally by surprise. I live by the theory, if I do something every day, I’ll be able to do that thing every day for the rest of my life. So, Caldwell’s disability disturbed me. After all, she was athletic and tough.

                The problem for me, of course, is that I don’t believe in having just one dog and it dawned on me reading Caldwell’s memoir that if anything happened to Bruce, I’d have trouble walking both dogs by myself. The old dogs were always willing to walk in tandem. I could hold their two leashes in one hand, and like they were harnessed together, they’d walk along side by side. They’d also slowed down enough that even together I could keep them under control.

                But Pippi and Ben, even though they are three years old now, have not yet figured out how to walk easily alone, no less together. After we first got them, I tried walking them together once and just barely managed to make it back home. They pulled, not always in the same direction, and tangled me up in their leashes.  I managed to keep from getting dragged down the road after a chipmunk only by sitting down and screaming a lot.  Since then, I’ve refused to walk both of them by myself.

                But Caldwell’s book made me realize, if I’m going to have dogs until the day I die, I better start getting back to walking them by myself. So, this morning, I hooked them up and headed out. It was a beautiful day – sunshine, birds chirping, warm. Pippi and Ben refused to walk side by side, so I wrapped their leashes up short and had one on each side of me. The first quarter of a mile was not a pretty sight. They kept trying to change sides, sure that the other one’s sniffing area was more delectable. I was wrapped in a leash like a mummy in no time. Fortunately, there were no chipmunks in sight. So, I had them sit, gave them each a biscuit bone, and untangled myself.

                We proceeded down the road. The dogs have been trained to sit whenever a car approaches and they know there is a treat in it for them. Usually they will start sitting as soon as they see a car coming, even if it’s a mile away. So, they sat for every car and ate biscuit bones liberally.  Ben pulled a little ahead. Pippi dragged a little behind. I managed to be the anchor in the middle of the parade. But we made it, which was the important thing. 

And so did Gail Caldwell. I won’t give it all away, but give New Life, No Instructions a read and discover how for yourself.

MakerSpaces

When librarians talk about libraries, we sometimes wax poetic. We may even sound like fisherman talking about how big the fish we caught or almost caught, was. Except we are talking about how important libraries are, or what you can do at a library, or what libraries contribute to society. Sometimes we say things like, libraries are a cornerstone of democracy, libraries are where everyone is equal, libraries are open to everyone regardless of gender, race, religion, educational or socioeconomic status. Which is all true, even if it does sound lofty. But now, there's a new visionary idea that librarians want to promote. It's the MakerSpace.


What's that you are asking?


A MakerSpace is just what it sounds like - a space to make something. But in some ways what a MakerSpace is is so much more than that - so much bigger - so much deeper, because it's based on the idea that libraries are no longer places you go to for information, entertainment, knowledge. Libraries are about learning, but learning in community where sometimes you are the student  and sometimes you are the teacher. Libraries are places you go to be part of creating something new - so you aren't just reading someone else's story, you are writing your own. Your aren't just watching someone else's movie, you are making your own. You aren't just checking out a book on knitting, you are sitting down and knitting.


I took a tour of the FabLab (their MakerSpace) at Fayetteville Free Library a couple of weeks ago, and came away drooling all over myself. Their FabLab is almost as big as our main reading room. It has six sewing machines where people can come and sew, take sewing lessons, or join a quilting circle. It has a wood working corner, where if you can build something. It has 3-D printers and craft kits for everything from jewelry making to painting. But you know what the coolest thing was? They had fancy shaped cake pans you could check out. Tractor ones and Blue's Clues pans and Paw Print pans.


You can see where this is going right? The little hamsters in my brain are just flat out running on their little wheels! So --- if you want to help be part of creating at the library, come talk to me. Volunteers are always welcome.


Now what are we going to call it?