Shelf Space
Booksellers and Librarians talk about what's in their reading room and what's on the horizon.
 Friday, September 12, 2008
Why are so many librarians—advocates of the uncensored right to read anything on all points of view—panic-stricken over teens reading street lit? As Amy Patee wrote in the July 2008 issue of School Library Journal, “There’s no getting around it: urban fiction forces many of us out of our comfort zones—and some librarians worry that by simply offering street lit, they’re endorsing its unsavory actions.” I don’t quite understand this. As librarians we are never endorsing anything that is on our shelves. We are providing free access to myriad ideas through information. Why would street lit be any different?

The moral panic over street lit/urban fiction reminds me of the panic over gangsta rap in the 1990s. Sure, there are critiques and analyses to be made about the harmfulness, context, and value of these media but most commentary seems to come from the perspective of the inherent aspirational goodness of whites and the inherent moral flaws in the black community. And definitely not all, but a lot of the hand wringing and pearl clutching comes from whites ignorant of the black community, white people who are not qualified to moralize on the reading habits of teens. There are also sensible critiques from inside the black community about street fiction being damaging in its literary merit and its moral messages. I can speak only as a (white) young adult librarian who serves a population composed mostly of black teens. We need to select the books they want to read, the books that speak to them and reflect their stories.  

Perhaps there is a fear that the messages in art and commerce created by black people will infiltrate white children, as there is a long history of cultural appropriation by whites. With street fiction, young readers are experiencing their lives on the page—which some libraries fail to offer all segments of the population—or they are escaping through literature, reading about experiences they don’t have (don’t we all—street fiction and non-street fiction readers alike—do this? Wasn’t I doing this when I was reading the Beats as a teen?  William Burroughs didn’t turn me into a junkie.) Libraries must legitimize and validate all of our patrons’ reading interests and their place in the community with titles they crave.

Why aren’t librarians and parents reacting the same way to white books like Twilight, Gossip Girl, The Clique, The Au Pairs, Pretty Little Liars, and The A-List as they are to street fiction (of course I use the words “white” and “black” very crudely; readers of all genders, races, ethnicities, cultures, sexual expressions, backgrounds, etc. read all kinds of materials—not just the ones marketed to them, the ones with their faces on the cover. And the terms “white” and “black” can refer to the creators and the characters and desired readers of the material.) While there have been criticisms of these books, they are not framed in moral panic terms. Critics minimize the racism, sexism, violence, cruelty, homophobia, materialism, and narcissism in white teen books and indict the black community for urban fiction’s isms and brutality, extrapolating from a genre to generalize about all black people. As if books for white teens aren’t execrable, injurious, and offensive. As if oppressions haven’t been created, sold, reinforced, and expressed by whites. As if black readers lacked critical thinking skills that whites are magically endowed with.

Street lit doesn’t occur in a vacuum. It can be seen as social commentary, strands of hip-hop, 1970s pulp fiction, and gangster and blaxploitation movies, and indie capitalism—many street fiction titles are self published, sold on the street or on the Internet. It is cruel to criticize these books without realizing they are partly a response to the social and economic issues created by white people.

Not only does street lit speak to teens, but it fills the near-void of teen lit with black protagonists. Sure we have Coe Booth, Angela Johnson, Sharon Draper, Sharon Flake, Walter Dean Myers, Jacqueline Woodson, and others writing great non-street fiction with black characters for young people. But most of these authors have been at it for a long time and they are outnumbered by white authors. Young people need to see themselves reflected, especially if we want them to read.

I recommend Megan Honig’s article “Takin’ It to the Street: Teens and Street Lit” 
and Margaret Hartmann’s article “Word on the “Street

This piece was inspired by Latoya Peterson’s wonderful article “Feminism, Race, and Sexist Dating Guides

“Ghetto Girls” in the title is a reference to the books of the same name by Anthony Whyte.

Posted by: Kati Nolfi

posted on Friday, September 12, 2008 12:20:35 PM (Eastern Daylight Time, UTC-04:00)  #    Comments [2]
 Friday, September 05, 2008

On a recent trip to my friendly neighborhood anarchist bookstore I bought three books for young people and found a topic to write about. The intersection between my favorite subject areas-radical thought and literature for children and teens-is my rare joy so I was happy to see these three relatively new titles:  A Young People's History of the United States adapted by Rebecca Stefoff from Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States; As the World Burns: 50 Simple Things You Can Do To Stay in Denial by Derrick Jensen and Stephanie McMillan; and Hey, Kidz! Buy This Book: A Radical Primer on Corporate and Governmental Propaganda and Artistic Activism for Short People by Anne Elizabeth Moore and Megan Kelso.

I am interested in independent booksellers' selections for kids and teens, especially when libraries are clearing away dusty old dandelions in favor of plastic roses. Public library collections may still have some out of print and weird old volumes but they more and more tend to exclude radical and esoteric titles in favor of middling bestsellers. While indie booksellers' selection of politically leftist titles may be better than most public libraries, the titles tend to be more sneakily subversive or liberal than brazenly revolutionary, such as the quite good books on this list:
http://radicalseeksenlightenment.blogspot.com/2008/06/radical-childrens-books-reference-list.html

And why are there so few radical books for young people? And what does it mean that booksellers provide more materials on marginalized topics than the supposed repository of free information on "all points of view on current and historical issues" (according to the Library Bill of Rights)?

So much literature for young people is didactic and moralistic to inculcate values in our malleable and pigtailed- to grow them up right. Depending on our politics we can construe a particular pedagogy as refreshing or poisonous. So even if the reader agrees with the agenda it must be gracefully delivered without being cringeworthy and heavy handed. In one of his earlier books, Herbert Kohl wrote about his students' resistance to attempts to radicalize them. For me, anarchism's inherent anti-authoritarianism is about acknowledging the agency of everyone to come to radicalism without paternalist teachings. Becoming a radical activist or developing any political feeling happens when life experience and education coalesce, usually around young adulthood. In this spirit, I wonder if subtly progressive books like Where the Wild Things Are or Mole Music are more effective than more overt titles like The Little Squatters' Handbook. While I am desperate for more radical titles, I sometimes find that children's literature that instructs counter to the dominant culture is in danger of sermonizing or congratulating, either by scolding hopeful converts or offering secret handshakes.

I wonder if the current political climate is breeding titles for a young progressive and activist readership. There are graphic novels: Dangerous Woman: The Graphic Biography of Emma Goldman; Students for a Democratic Society: A Graphic History; and A People's History of American Empire and there are books on animals, the environment, and peace:  Tin Lizzie, Tracking Trash: Flotsam, Jetsam, and the Science of Ocean Motion, Wild Animals in Captivity, and Why War is Never a Good Idea.

Do these books collectively herald the uselessness of adults to solve these problems and the concomitant burden on young folks?

Of the three radical books I bought, As the World Burns may be the most accessible as it looks like a Powerpuff Girls' presentation of Anarchism 101 (with a healthy dose of primitivism). While the illustrations have been criticized for their, um, primitiveness, I love Stephanie McMillan's twee but still fierce style-reminiscent of Hope for the Flowers- with a multitude of animals and identifiable villains. The text is sometimes repetitive and sloppy and too many words are used when pictures would suffice. I found this title to be life changing for me, but it is problematic, seductive, glamorous and simplistic; our questions are left unsatisfied. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if life were this simple, the problems we face so easily solvable? Every cell in my body wants for recycling to save the day, wants for shorter showers to save enough water for the rivers to run free…we will go quietly, meekly, to the end of the world, if only you allow us to believe that buying low energy light bulbs will save us," laments Jensen. These are significant thoughts.

The end of the book is messy and the animal uprising is more than a little ridiculous.  There is also no serious race/class/able-bodied privilege analysis.  How will folks without privilege fight the revolution with their bunny pals? This is however an apt satire of books like Down-to-Earth Guide to Global Warming and the kid's version of An Inconvenient Truth: The Crisis of Global Warming which cheers kids to "save the world" (really…all of it?) by bullying their parents into recycling and changing their lightbulbs. As the World Burns untidily unravels the liberal truths of lifestylism and pacifism and refocuses on the guilt of industry and corporations.

I confess that I bought Hey, Kidz! Buy This Book because of the glorious Megan Kelso. The pictures here are illustrative of the book's theme and are also darn cute but there are only a few and the book generally sags from too much text and too many appendices and useless cluttered sidebars. Moore's tone can sometimes be too pandering and snarky. But! The message of media literacy and critical thinking is a crucial one for young folks navigating through the sea of logos and brands and advertising. Moore writes of kids' vulnerability and manipulation by big media. Her analysis of the harmful influence of ads (they "flatter, confuse, emulate and research" kids) and marketing and the suffocation of indie and DIY media is spot on.

While the "Try This At Home" sections are awesome, her methods for solving the problem of intrusive media are mostly ineffective. This is always the failure with this kind of book. Voting, consumer choices, and writing letters to congress people won't get the job done, I'm afraid. But she does cover the many means of activism from graffiti to pirate radio to street theater and zines. And she also does not feel shy about advocating semi-illegal acts.

A Young People's History of the United States is an attractive little volume and a good choice for adults (ahem) who had difficulty getting through Zinn's original inspiration for the adaptation. The images are in an unfortunate sepia color and there are not many of them. Unavoidably perhaps the text is dry and I cannot imagine many teens reading this if it is not assigned. It would be a great alternative to high school history texts. Zinn's message of history, community, racism, heroism and anti-colonialism is so important for people of all ages-especially young people-to learn and relearn.

Our next step is to purchase these flawed but necessary additions to radical kid lit for our library collections!

Works Cited

Burns, Loree Griffin. Tracking Trash: Flotsam, Jetsam and the Science of Ocean Motion
Cordelia and Ziggy. The Little Squatters' Handbook
David, Laurie and Cambria Gordon. Down-to-Earth Guide to Global Warming
Drummond, Allan. Tin Lizzie
Jensen, Derrick and Stephanie McMillan. As the World Burns: 50 Simple Things You Can
Do To Stay in Denial
Laidlaw, Rob. Wild Animals in Captivity
McPhail, David. Mole Music
Moore, Anne Elizabeth and Megan Kelso. Hey, Kidz! Buy This Book: A Radical Primer on Corporate and Governmental Propaganda and Artistic Activism for Short People
Paulus, Trina. Hope for the Flowers
Pekar, Harvey and Gary Dumm. Students for a Democratic Society: A Graphic History
Rudahl, Sharon. Dangerous Woman: The Graphic Biography of Emma Goldman
Sendak, Maurice. Where the Wild Things Are
Walker, Alice and Stefano Vitale. Why War is Never a Good Idea
Zinn, Howard and Mike Konopacki. The People's History of American Empire
Zinn, Howard and Rebecca Stefoff. A Young People's History of the United States

Posted by: Kati Nolfi

posted on Friday, September 05, 2008 10:53:14 AM (Eastern Daylight Time, UTC-04:00)  #    Comments [0]
 Friday, August 29, 2008
We've probably all been cornered by someone enthusiastically waving a new book in our face, excitedly asking, "Have you read this?!" Our gut tells us we should just nod and lie, but instead we hand over the truth about the poorly written, uninspired, yet strangely popular book. With a shrug of our shoulders, we mumble, "Eh . . . I skimmed it." Inevitably, we get the "you skimmed it?" look. The look that lets us know we have violated an unwritten rule of reading—readers read; they don't skim.

We may be guilty of the violation, but should we feel guilty?

My answer, as a proud and unabashed skimmer, is a resounding, no.

In How to Read a Book, Mortimer J. Adler outlined skimming as a method of reading through which we quickly and superficially glance over a text in order to glean important information. We then use that information to decide if we should continue with the text and move into more advanced, deeper levels of reading.

In today's technological environment of news feeds, blog feeds, feed readers, email updates, listservs, forums, message boards, life casting, twittering, and micro-blogging (to name just a few), this method of information screening through skimming has become invaluable. We often find ourselves inundated with information we could never realistically wholly digest, and much we probably needn't even taste. Skimming has given us a method through which we can quickly assess the mountain of information that makes its way into our various inboxes.

The most skilled skimmers can simply read a title/subject line, glance over the body of the text, read a few select lines, and make a solid judgment call as to whether the post/article/message warrants further reading. Without the well-developed skill of skimming, we would find ourselves unable to parcel out quality information and would instead be limited to what information arrived first, and how much of it we could actually read in a day. It is skimming that allows us to process the wide world of information and select the really important bits to read, assimilate, and conceptualize.

Now . . . lets get down to the nitty-gritty of skimming. After all, it isn't our skimming of blog posts and news articles that gets us the look; it's when we decide to give the skim treatment to an actual book . . . and worse yet, a popular or revered one. Skimming, for most of us, is a utilitarian tool; we use it when we need it, not as a practice. The fact is, we're busy people, and sometimes we just don't have the time to give a book the love and attention it deserves. Perhaps truer still, the new book du jour just doesn't interest us enough for a full reading. So rather than ditching the book altogether, we get a feel for it. We get the gist. We get the bare bones. We skim. Because . . . well . . . we like talking around the water cooler too.

On a professional note, a colleague of mine once had a wall hanging that read "Librarians who don't read should be sued for malpractice." I believe this. As a public librarian, it's my professional obligation to be well-read in in a wide range of genres and subjects. Unfortunately, I just don't have the time to read all the books I should in order to become and stay proficient. It is in my attempts to read through the influx of new and core titles that I turn to skimming. Skimming the descriptions and reading the dialog in fiction, and reading the table of contents and select chapters in nonfiction is the only way I'm able to read through the massive pile of books I should be reading in order to be an effective public librarian. Skimming gives me a way to quickly read books I should be reading and more time to read the books I want to read.

I'm not suggesting you should skim the 75 page training manual you have to give a presentation on next week or the newest book by an author you love. On the contrary, there are certainly some texts which will always warrant deep reading, but there is also a ton of text out there we just need to give a good solid taste; 'cause sometimes it's apple pie, and sometimes it's mud pie and it's nice to know which before we take a big ol' bite.

I hope you've enjoyed this post. Though chances are, you just skimmed it.

Posted by: Sarah Lovato

posted on Friday, August 29, 2008 9:39:02 AM (Eastern Daylight Time, UTC-04:00)  #    Comments [0]
 Friday, August 22, 2008
Oh reader's advisory...reader's advisory...reader's advisory, why must you torture me so?

I'm not alone though in my torture, for many librarians working a public service desk, especially in a children's or teen department, there is no reference question with the potential to cause as much frustration as a simple reader's advisory inquiry. Why is this true in a world where in a day a librarian may be asked to find the obituary for "this guy who is totally haunting my house...his name is Phil or Bill or Jill...I can't really tell...he mumbles"? Well because at least the ghost-whisperer at the desk has some idea of what he needs. The 11-year old who just wants "a good book," on the other hand, usually has no real concept of what he wants and in worse case scenarios, he just needs something for the book report due tomorrow.

Those of us trained in the art of the reference interview, dig eagerly in, asking a series of questions in order to gage the reading interests, or in some cases, general interests of the patron. Sometimes though, in the case of children and teens, the reference interview will fall flat. The young patron is never really able to articulate any useful information that may be used to recommend appropriate books. At its worst, a reference interview will conclude with the child having answered all the librarian's pointed questions with, "I dunno."

It's at this point that we pull out the standard "what was the last book you read that you liked?" If we're lucky, and if the reader's advisory Gods are smiling down on us, the answer will be a book with enough prominence to generate read-alike lists.

Read-alikes are a of group books that share enough common literary characteristics that someone who enjoys one book from the group may also enjoy other books from the same read a-like group. Usually read a-likes are structured along the lines of "If you like 'Book A,' you might also enjoy 'Book B,''' or "If you like 'Author A,' you might also like 'Author B.'"

Read a-like lists are extremely helpful for young patrons who may have a difficult time explaining what elements they might enjoy in a book. It's much easier for a child to simply realize they "want something like Harry Potter" rather than analyze what they liked about the books. After a book from the past is identified, the truly skilled reference interviewer will continue the questions, trying to narrow down specific elements of the novel the child enjoyed. Though not the end-all for reader's advisory, read a-likes are a quick and easy way to narrow down possible recommendations to a manageable list of books.

Getting back into the spirit of The Bunless Librarian, below are links to popular children's and teen read a-like lists.

Captain Underpants Series by Dav Pilkey
Annapolis Valley Regional Libraries
St.Charles Public Library
Dakota County Libraries
Weber County Library

Gary Paulsen
Charles County Public Library
Jervis Public Library
St. Charles Public Library
Stanly County Library

Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling
American Library Association
Kansas City Public Library
Madison Public Library
Weber County Library

Junie B. Jones Series by Barbara Park
Ames Public Library
Bibliotheque Publique
Rockford Public Library
Weber County Library

Magic Tree House Series by Mary Pope Osborne
Barrington Area Library
Charles County Public Library
Montgomery County

Redwall Series by Brian Jacques
Burlington Public Library
Derry Public Library
Edmonton Public Library
Finger Lakes Public Library

Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket
Allen County Public Library
Strathcona County Library
Wayland Free Public Library
Weber County Library

Twilight Series by Stephenie Meyer
Arapahoe Public Library
Farmingdale Public Library
Liverpool Public Library
Santa Clara County Library

I wouldn't want to give adults the shaft when it comes to the read-alike bounty so visit the Waterboro Public Library for a huge list of adult resources.

—Happy Reading

Posted by: Sarah Lovato

posted on Friday, August 22, 2008 9:11:24 AM (Eastern Daylight Time, UTC-04:00)  #    Comments [0]
 Friday, August 15, 2008
Like many librarians, I grew up with an affinity for books. I won't go revisionist and claim to have been a bookworm; I wasn't. I was, what we in the biz' call, a "reluctant reader;" few and far between were books that drew me in and kept my attention until the final page. Despite this, in my young adulthood, I was drawn to libraries as a place of retreat. Often, I would visit my school or public library just to stand and move among the books, my fingers reaching out to touch the spines as I tilted my head to read their titles. As I browsed, I was humbled by the the knowledge and passion reflected in each book's pages and in awe of the dedication and talent it took to write them. I would pull titles from the shelves and flip through them slowly, the familiar scent of book wafting to my eager nose. There was great visceral comfort and pleasure in sitting among the stacks, surrounded by a universe of intellectualism and literary art.

As I entered adulthood, an unexpected aptitude for literary criticism, and a resulting education in literature studies turned me into a bona fide reader. I then started visiting libraries in search of specific titles, my trips becoming more utilitarian. Still, the physical space of libraries held an alluring power over me. I often found myself ending a long day of errands with an unplanned trip to the library. I subconsciously sought the rejuvenating peace I still found wandering through crammed stacks.

When I decided to become a librarian, my deep-rooted connection to libraries as a place and my newfound love of literature where driving forces behind my decision. Though I had no way to know or anticipate it at the time, my choice to build my career among my beloved stacks would result in an unexpected loss of a sanctuary. No longer do I wander aimlessly among library shelves, content to meander and browse. I now walk with purpose, with a clipboard, with a spreadsheet, assessing, evaluating, and weeding. My retreat now transformed into a place of work, study, and to-do lists.

Early on in my career, I attempted to recapture those lost moments of solace by visiting my own local library. Surely there, among books I had no professional obligation to select, buy, and, maintain, I would find my way back to that lost feeling of instinctual harmony. Each trip, I entered the library hopeful. I walked to a Dewey range of interest and nostalgically tilted my head to read the titles. Still though, I only noticed torn dust jackets, weak bindings, and soiled pages. My tongue actually clucked as I stumbled onto holes in subject coverage. The overall grandeur of the stacks had been replaced by a wall of professionalism that drove me to evaluate, not enjoy. I had utterly lost the ability to lose myself in library patronage and instead found myself ever the sweater-vest-wearing librarian of my work days.

Bookstores too had held a certain attraction in my young adulthood, though not on the scale of libraries; the taint of commerce muddying the nobility of the purveyance literature and knowledge. This space of retreat too has been lost to me. My trips to both local and large chain bookstores have now become exercises in frustration. Too often, I am faced with new or obscure titles I long to read, but refuse to pay for. I'm a librarian after all and spend my days surrounded by free books; to pay seems a betrayal of my trade. So I leave, frustrated, empty-handed, though hopeful a local library will own the coveted $7.00 paperback. Still though, something has been lost.

It's at this point in the post, I should segue into a solution to my quandary or in the tradition The Bunless Librarian, provide a list of links to solutions. Unfortunately, this loss of sanctuary is a drawback of librarianship I still struggle with. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade in my profession to get back my moments of contented browsing, but I long to find a balance between the fulfillment of librarianship and the simple serenity of patronage.

So the question remains:

How does this librarian leave her profession at the door and allow herself to reconnect with the uncomplicated, joyful refuge of the stacks?


Posted by: Sarah Lovato

posted on Friday, August 15, 2008 9:25:49 AM (Eastern Daylight Time, UTC-04:00)  #    Comments [0]
 Friday, August 08, 2008

As my readers, skimmers, and mark-as-read-ers can attest, The Bunless Librarian has never been my confessional, but this change in venue has brought with it a change in attitude. In that spirit, I confess, I am completely and totally addicted to my Google Reader (GR).

I started like most addiction-free GR users (for the cool kids, Bloglines). I carved out 10-15 minutes of my morning routine for browsing my GR, which was full of fantastic librarian and library-related posts. I read, skimmed, and starred items between sips of coffee. My addiction began to rear its consumptive little head when I started subscribing to feeds mentioned by other bloggers. Soon my subscriptions grew uncontrollably and my new items routinely hit the dreaded 1000+. Still, I stuck to my 10-15 minute morning routine (OK, it grew to 20-25). Slowly though, each of the ebbs between the flow of my daily work became consumed by obsessive 5 minute (OK, 10 minute) GR power browsing, my days (and nights) becoming littered with compulsive GR checks in an attempt to keep my inbox empty.

What, you may ask, does any of this have to do with the decision to give a blog the boot? Well, the root of my addiction is my compulsive need to read, skim, or scroll through everything that graces my GR. My theory is, limit the supply and the compulsive consumption will stop. Basically, I need to do some serious unsubscribing; booting some blogs from my GR is the only way my ebbs will return to the sighs, yawns, and stretches nature intended.

Now I can’t just go into my subscriptions and hack away willy-nilly. I wouldn’t be a librarian if I wasn’t more systematic than that (’cause we’re a systematic bunch). I need a plan. I need to know…When should you give a blog the boot?

I know what you might be thinking, “doesn’t GR have ’trends’ for that?” Yes…Yes it does. GR, bless its big, corporate heart tries to toss a life preserver to those of us treading frantically in an ocean of subscriptions. GR Trends produces a list of “inactive” subscriptions that haven’t published items in over a month. Unfortunately, that particular life preserver is one of the old moldy ones that’s been in the boat too long and it’s waterlogged and kinda smells like fish. I mean really, some of the most insightful blogs post less than regularly and conversely, some of the most prolific blogs post lots of…well, they post a lot. GR Trends is helpful for spotting a defunct blog, but in this case, frequency isn’t the best way to judge quality.

So what is a librarian 2.0 to do when technology fails? We get back to our roots…good ol’ analog librarianship. As a librarian, much of my time is spent weeding library collections, ultimately deciding which materials stay and which get booted (to the book sale).

In the ’90s, the Texas State Library developed a weeding procedure known as the CREW Method. One of its most recognizable features is the acronym, MUSTIE, which outlines criteria for tossing library materials. Though some of the MUSTIE criteria could surely be applied to weeding blogs, I felt the new media of webblog deserved its own handy weeding acronym. Meet SCROLL.

S = Superseded

C = Content

R = Reliable

O = Overproductive

L = Link Clickage

L = Leprechauns

Superseded: Are there other blogs that cover the same topics, but are more interesting, entertaining, thought-provoking, or informative? If a blog is at the bottom of a subject pile, give it the boot.

Content: Does the blog present content that is of personal or professional interest? Is the content well written and presented? If you find yourself dreading having to read or even skim the blog’s uninspired posts, give it the boot.

Reliable: Can you count on the blog for consistently compelling, interesting, or useful content? Is the information the blog gives you reliable, factual, and credible? If you find you have to wade through piles of unreliable filler posts before getting to one of substance, give it the boot.

Overproductive: Does this blog regularly flood your inbox with an unmanageable amount of posts? If you have a blog that sends you way too many posts in a day, give it the boot.

Link Clickage: How often do you actually click on the links the blog provides? If you have a blog with links you are rarely inspired enough to click and explore, give it the boot.

Leprechauns: Does the blog have leprechauns? No, not literally, but if you opened a post and found a big ol’ leprechaun smiling and waving to you, you’d probably be pretty surprised. How often does the blog surprise you? How often does it make you sit up and take notice? If you have a blog that never has any leprechauns, give it the boot.

If you find you have a blog in your subscription list that fits at least one SCROLL boot criteria, chances are you are just quickly scrolling through the posts anyway, so go ahead and give that blog the boot.

At this point, I suppose I owe GR Trends an apology. Trends does provide “read” stats that can be helpful for figuring out which blogs are overproductive and suck up lots of scrolling time. Trends isn’t really an old, moldy life preserver. It’s more like one of those old-timey ones from the Titanic. It’ll probably keep you afloat, but you’re still not quite sure if it’s really more prop than preserver.

SCROLL is my attempt to cope with subscription overload leading to GR addiction, but how about you?

When do YOU think you should give a blog the boot?

Posted by: Sarah Lovato

posted on Friday, August 08, 2008 2:18:39 PM (Eastern Daylight Time, UTC-04:00)  #    Comments [0]
 Friday, June 27, 2008
We've all been asked some form of the question, "why did you become a librarian," and with my 30th high school reunion looming I expect I'll be asked at least once by an old classmate. I have different answers depending upon whom I'm speaking to, but I think the best answer is simply because I'm curious about stuff. I just find it fun to look things up, help people and in the process learn something new.

Most of the stuff that I've learned about computers and technology was more by accident than by intent. I was simply curious enough to go poking around trying to figure things out. Lifelong learning is often used to describe this process, but it's a phrase that has never resonated with me. To me it sounds way too formal and planned for anything I've ever actually learned on my own. My process of learning is more like what Dorothea Salo calls the six magic words, than anything as stuffed shirt sounding as Lifelong Learning.

What are the magic words?

Ready? Okay the magic words are, "hmmm I wonder how that works."

When I first heard about the Learning 2.0 program, based upon the idea of learning about 2.0 tools through guided exploration (which I’m sure is trainerspeak for the magic words), I became an evangelist for the Learning 2.0 program.

A year has gone by since that day and now my library is in the midst of a Learning 2.0 program, for which I'm proud to be an administrator. When our program started I was naïve enough to be surprised at the negative feelings that some staff would have about it. I had been so involved in developing proposals; finding funding for incentives; determining tools for measuring progress; that I forgot that not everyone wants to learn this stuff. The magic words for these people are like the bell in the picture book The Polar Express; they have lost their power to enchant.

For these staff our 2.0 program is something that is added onto their workday, which makes their regular job harder. Most of these people are busy, and they feel that if they take time to play with these tools they’re letting their coworkers down because the regular work may not get done. As Kathryn Greenhill points out these people aren’t dumb grumps they’re merely expressing some very legitimate concerns. They’d like to know how these tools relate to their jobs, which ones are the most important, and they want a traditional training structure.

A Learning 2.0 program, I would argue, is as much about building a culture of dare I say it, lifelong learning amongst staff, as it is about any of the tools and applications we play with. Since technology is changing quickly and 2.0 applications are developing rapidly and then morphing into something new, the question of which tool is more important than another becomes rather moot. Knowing about these tools can improve the ability of staff to provide excellent customer service. One librarian in our system quickly located close captioned television shows on the internet, for a hearing impaired customer, because she had learned about Hulu the week before. These “aha!” moments are important to share with everyone in the program, because they enhance the power of the magic words.

It’s been a pleasure speaking to you this month, but now I’m going to go play with this thing called 280 Slides which seems like it could be helpful for my next presentation. 280 Slides, hmmm I wonder how that works?

Posted by: Jim McCluskey

posted on Friday, June 27, 2008 9:39:30 AM (Eastern Daylight Time, UTC-04:00)  #    Comments [1]
 Friday, June 20, 2008
Have you Googled your library recently? If you haven’t, what you find may surprise you. That man you saw earlier today picking up his holds may be thinking about writing a review that mentions how much he likes dropping by the library to grab his books and go. The fact is our patrons, both the satisfied and dissatisfied, are talking about us in their blogs on review sites like Yelp. These sites enable our customers to reach larger audiences than ever before, and to share what they like and dislike about the service provided. This is something libraries should be thinking about and preparing for.

Once you’re aware of these review sites the library has some questions to answer. Should the library join these sites and add reviews or other content? Should the library respond to negative reviews, correct inaccurate information, and so on? Who’ll be responsible for periodically checking these sites and what guidelines should they be working with.

I’d encourage libraries to consider adding content to review sites, especially in cases where the library hasn’t yet been reviewed. These first reviews represent an opportunity to share services the library offers such as Wi-Fi, and virtual reference service. Be up front about identifying yourself as the library and keep it brief. Be factual and focus on services, let your customers be the ones to offer praise.

Libraries should consider carefully how or if they’ll respond to reviews. My advice would be to let the community police itself and to have faith that the good service you provide will balance out the occasional poor review. Yelp offers some good advice for business owners that also applies to libraries.

Some highlights:
Don’t review your own business anonymously or get your friends to do the same.
Don’t overestimate the impact of a single negative review. It happens to even the best businesses. That said if you see a trend of negative reviews, you may want to take this feedback and determine if there is a way to improve your business.
Do add photos to your business page and make sure the business information is correct.
Do review your own business, clearly stating that you are the business owner. Full disclosure is important here, and will be critical in earning the respect of the Yelp community.


Review sites like these are expanding rapidly, building off people’s inherent desire to create and share information. Libraries that embrace these web 2.0 tools have an opportunity to open a dialog with their customers which may lead to beneficial relationships for both.

A customer, who wrote a positive review about the library, may be the person you think of when you’re looking for a person to offer a patron perspective on the library’s blog. And even a negative review offers the chance to get feedback about ways we might improve our services, practices, or policies. Our customers are talking about us. It’s time for libraries to join the conversation.

Posted by: Jim McCluskey

posted on Friday, June 20, 2008 9:28:46 AM (Eastern Daylight Time, UTC-04:00)  #    Comments [1]