The following post is part of a Seed Pod collaboration about libraries. Seed Pods are a SmallStack community project designed to help smaller publications lift each other up by publishing and cross-promoting around a common theme. We’re helping each other plant the seeds for growth!
10 LIBRARY ANECDOTES YOU DIDN’T ASK FOR:
Circa 1983 — My Mom checks out records (records!) from the library. I’m sitting in my room in a red plastic sled (cozier for reading than for sledding) and listening to The Little Blue Brontosaurus on my Holly Hobby record player. We didn’t know what we know now about Brontosauruses. They’re not a thing, it turns out. They, too, are obsolete.
Circa 1985 — “Library” is my favorite game. My brother and I set up desks in our rooms and wait for our only loyal patron (thanks, Mom!) to drop by. I don’t know why we have competing libraries. Maybe it’s because my library is “serious” and my brother’s library is for non-serious dilettantes who prefer to play with toys instead of maneuvering books from shelf to shelf. Decades later, flipping through old Golden Books, handmade “library cards” tumble out. '
Circa 1989 —Dream profession = Librarian or English Teacher. I knew back then I wanted to be close to books because I knew they were magic. And I still think these are some the coolest, most noble gigs I can think of. Oops. Ended with a preposition.
Circa 2001 — I’m afraid of cataloging systems, even though they make finding books easier. I remember little drawers and Dewey Decimal. I love the idea of library research, but I’m still intimidated by it. Even when I was in grad school, I was terrified of going into “the stacks.”
Circa 2002 — I discover the Performing Arts section of the New York Public Library. And my little brain goes bananas. This was pre-YouTube. How else could you watch live performances on tape once they’re no longer live? I also take a dance writing class with renowned dance critic Elizabeth Zimmer where we watched live (live!) dance and brought our scribblings to class (held, I think, in the library). How on earth did I luck into that? And where the hell are my notes?!
Circa 2005 — My undergrad honors thesis is allegedly on file at the school library. A few years later, have a teaching gig there, and I find myself in the library rifling through the music section looking for CDs for choreography (CDs!). I decide to hunt for my thesis, too. But the file is blank with no VHS (VHS!) of the performance. I then realize it was my job to give it all to the library. So much for posterity. Magical thinking didn’t pop it onto a shelf. Summa cum no way.
Circa 2012 — My friend Ed leads me to Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones, a book best borrowed from a library and then consumed in a kind of fever dream.
Circa 2017 — I’m visiting the library again with my own kid. And it’s a beautiful full circle. We love the book return mailbox. And the books.
Circa 2023 — Librarians intimidate me. Probably because of my chronic “teacher’s pet” syndrome. I feel I’m not worthy when it comes to my reading accomplishments. But now I sit at a table full of children’s librarians who have kindly agreed to speak with me (not scary at all!). It’s one of my greatest honors to talk with Carol and her team about the world of children’s books and how my manuscripts might one day fit into it. Their kindness, inclusivity and passion for books match my expectations of everything librarians should be. Don’t worry, books are in good hands. Thanks to Dan over at Fundraising for Breakfast for making the introduction!
Circa now — The automatic renewal policy is overly generous and I’m grateful. We have a ton of library books, but no late fees! I get a little email that says my books have been renewed. And then I get another little notice that says they have been renewed AGAIN. I feel seen, because I’m a slow, meandering reader and, often, I’m taking notes. Plus, some sentences just bear repeating. Some sentences just bear repeating.
My kid and I are maxing out the upper limits of our borrowing capacity. The librarian always asks if we returned books to the book drop before we check new things out (even though we have even more at home on our "library rack” which was a magazine rack that belonged to the ultimate reader, my Grandma). The librarian doesn’t check our work. She just checks us out and sends us on our way.
The best part of libraries is uncovering a book on a whim, like a lone archeologist. That’s how I stumbled on Courtney Maum’s excellent book, Before and After the Book Deal. I’m totally in the BEFORE stage, and may remain there forever. But I loved it thoroughly. I also found my way to Anne Lamott, Susan Cain and Lulu Miller. And I checked out Susan Orlean’s aptly titled, The Library Book.
Right now, my kid has 21 books out (highlights are Judy Blume, Amy Wu, Chris Harris and The Dead Bird by Margaret Wise Brown illustrated by the exquisitely marvelous Christian Robinson. A kids’ book about a dead bird. A dead bird! Yes! Books are the best). I have 6 books featuring David Rakoff (re-reading his brilliance), more Anne Lamott, Alice Mattison, Julia Cameron and Virginia Woolf (I somehow graduated an as English major and never read her. But the Indigo Girls have been telling me for years that I’ll love her. And this is the year! Thank goodness for the renewal policy because I haven’t started yet).
Nota Bene: The photo at the top of this essay is taken from the back of Bel Canto by Ann Patchett that I’m currently reading. I loved the look of the physical stamps pressed onto the book forevermore. But when I looked more closely at the dates, I saw the stamps marked moments of “before” and “after” in 2001. What struck me is that circulation continued. People need books and the books keep moving. There are millions of “befores” and “afters” all over the world and all through time. And yet, we keep turning pages.
Thanks to Smallstack for initiating this Seed Pod thread! Smallstack’s marvelous team is busy compiling a library of lesser known publications as “a collection of the finest newsletters with fewer than 1,000 subscribers, with special love given to the under 500 subscriber stacks out there.”
Being new to Substack is like walking into a raucous arcade of blinking lights and loud noises. I don’t know where to look. As a reader, I flit all over. It’s hard to get a sense of what’s really out there. So I love the efforts of Smallstack to create community and celebrate hidden gems.
Want to see more posts from this Seed Pod or join in on the fun? Head over to our thread to learn more!
This is just delightful! My favorite moments were the library cards tumbling from the Golden Books and the specific authors you mentioned. Thank you for being a library fan!
What a fun collection of anecdotes! How are you liking Bel Canto? I haven't read it, but a friend of mine loved it.