Tinfoil + Raccoon

Interview with Jonathan Selwood (The Pinball Theory of Apocalypse)

I know. You are all in a deep funk over having to leave Hogwarts.  Book 7 is out, you've already read it, and are trying to cope with the reality that it's all over. Let me recommend something to take you far away from witches, wizard and wands, to a wobbly world of weirdness. In The Pinball Theory of Apocalypse (Harper Perennial, 2007), Jonathan Selwood gives us a  very funny, Vonnegut-flavored read that both embraces and mocks our culture's obsession with celebrity.  First a brief review, followed by an interview with Selwood:

Isabel Raven, a young woman with incredible technical skill as a painter, suddenly finds herself as much a celebrity as the people whose faces she paints into reproductions of classic works of art (think Scarlett Johansson in Venus on the Half Shell, Macaulay Culkin as Blue Boy).  Isabel moves around a Los Angeles that's cracking open, oozing tar and shimmying with the aftershocks of a major earthquake.  While the "pinball theory" refers to a much-lauded, then deeply buried theory developed by her father, a retired physicist, about how the world will end in 2049,  Isabel is a bit of a pinball herself. She bounces back and forth between her manager, a supercreep devotee of primal scream therapy, her celebrity chef boyfriend (who is shacking up with the Latina Britney Spears, one of Isabel's recent subjects), her dope-smoking hippie parents, and a Bill Gates-like neo-millionaire who hails Isabel as a PoMo hottie genius.

Despite the bizarre swirling drama and her resultant occassional freak-outs, Isabel wanders through it all with an underlying sense of ennui that says, "What are you gonna do?"  Being a pop culture voyeur myself, I think Selwood captures the essence of our collective obsession perfectly.  We are, at the same time, horrified and titillated by the freak show. We cluck and gasp and wag our fingers in judgment as we plunk down the dough for another ticket.  We bitch about the cost of the lemonade and popcorn we just bought to munch on while watching what we fear (and hope) is the end of the world. If you're looking for a condemnation of Culture Lite, you'll find no such message here. Selwood drags us down into the tar and gets us to laugh at the mess we're in.  What are you gonna do?  (Interview follows)

Image Problems? You Bet Your Sweet Database!

While folks were making comments on the hipbrarian article in the NYT Style section this past weekend, I was doing one-on-one bibliographic instruction via IM.  The person I was helping is a non-traditional student (early 30s) working on his first bachelor's degree.  I used to work with him, but still keep in touch because he's talented, thoughtful, earnest, and truly one of the most decent people I have ever met.  Our continued relationship is personal and professional--he bounces ideas and projects off me and I rely on him to steer me away from negative thinking when I'm in a funk.  This summer, he's in a Comp II class and has a bunch of papers to churn out.  Writing is not his strength and he knows it. He's not a terrible writer and could do enough work to just get by, but he's taking his time with drafts and asking for me to read his work. He wants to improve. 

He had started work on his second paper and pinged me via IM. He had a rough thesis statement, and what he wanted from me was advice on how to read the four books he had chosen to use for research.  I said that first I would go to the indexes to look for words related to my thesis, but offered that I'm able to skim and synthesize pretty quickly, a skill that not a lot of people have.  Then I paused. "Wait a minute.  Did you look at ProQuest for articles?"  After a few more questions, it became clear that it had not occurred to him AT ALL to use his university library website, or his employer's website to get started on his research. 

Did I mention that my friend is a webmaster for a public library?  And that he has spent a lot of time trying to make the library's databases as accessible as possible?  Think about this.  If online library resources are not on the radar of a pretty smart guy, in a decent undergraduate program, with mad web skillz and a library job, something is seriously wrong.  (Don't even think about dissing my friend...how many people in your library know ALL its resources?)

I convinced him to use the books to get started, and assured him that he could find tons of articles about the concepts written about in the books.  First, he tried his university's library website, without much guidance from me.  He came back asking about results from what I figured out was a state union catalog.  That, I told him, would only (mostly) list titles of print sources held by libraries.  I explained that he needed an article database that he could search by keyword and from which he could get full-text articles.  I reviewed the e-resources for the university library--it was just too much for what he was working on, so I told him that he could get everything he needed from the public library. 

I suggested ProQuest again, and he took off on his own, reporting back that he got very few results, none of them useful.  My hunch that he was using subject search was correct. "NEVER start with a subject search," I coached.  I explained that subject headings were made up by librarians and wanna-be librarians who did not think the same way as real people.  At this point, he gave me access to the database so I could offer some more specific advice, and challenged me, "Race you." I came up with an unwieldy list of results in short order. He was not too far behind, clicked on one that looked good, then asked "Where's the article?  All I see is an abstract."  I explained that there were limiters that could narrow his search, including one for "full-text."  Even though I use databases every day, I had to stop and study the interface and make sure I was being very clear, specific and jargon-free in my coaching.  As hard I as I try, I still catch myself using librarianese when working with patrons.  I gave him a couple more tips and he finally started getting appropriate results.  My friend had a "eureka" moment when he realized just what a powerful tool he was working with, and I regret not saving the chat transcript.  It was really a high-fiving/Chariots of Fire themesong  sort of moment.  I typed in "W A T E R    W A T E R" and told him I felt like Anne Sullivan Macy to his Helen Keller.  Maybe it wasn't quite that world-rocking, but I felt an exhilarating sense of victory before the inevitable question of "why is this so damn hard" set in.

My friend apologized for being dense, for not just knowing in his bones how to do this.  I told him that he owed apologies to no one and that, truthfully, apologies were owed to him. Something is really wrong if library services make people feel stupid. While I appreciate the discussion about the nuances and implications of the NYT article, I've found it entirely beside the point of what our concerns should be.  Patrons could give a crap about the image of the folks behind the big desks or in the stacks. I've read recently that the only survey question you need to ask a patron/user/customer is "After using the library today, would you come back?"  (I mean all points of service--phone, web, in-person.) Who wants to come back to a place where they feel stupid and helpless?  It doesn't matter if you do your job in a jacket and tie, stockings and heels, tats and vintage, rumpled Dockers and Birks. It matters even less what you look like, drink, or wear once you're out the door.  What matters is that our users find librarians who are kind, patient, and helpful, a physical space that they can navigate without a map and where they feel welcomed, materials that are useful and accessible, and resources that don't require hours of instruction.  What matters is that when you ask them, "Would you come back," they answer, without hesitation, "yes".

Hollywood Librarian: World Premier

Friday night, I attended the world premier of the Hollywood Librarian, a much-anticipated film directed by Ann Seidl. From the film’s website:

The Hollywood Librarian: A Look at Librarians through Film will be the first full-length documentary film to focus on the work and lives of librarians. Using the entertaining and appealing context of American movies, the film will hold some surprises for people who may think they know what librarians do. 

While we missed the red carpet walk, straggling in with our Chipotle bags right before the movie started, we were surprised to find over a thousand folks--an impressive number for a Friday night at Annual. 

The film was loaded with clips from well-known films featuring librarians (Desk Set, Party Girl and several others), featured interviews with librarians and was delivered with surprisingly good production values. It was charming and heartwarming and, at times, had me alternately cheering and teary. Toward the end, the film dragged slightly and was a bit heavy-handed. I'm not convinced the film, as is, would go too far in converting library agnostics.    

After the film, Seidl announced that the film had already garnered a spot in a film festival and was generating some buzz. She then announced that rather than going through a traditional release, she was going to use libraries to release the film. All libraries had to do was ask for the film and she’d send it. Cool, we thought! Then came the caveats which left many in the audience scratching their heads. Libraries that take the film have to agree to host at least two public screenings during Banned Books Week, 2007. And, they have to agree to charge admission; specifically--8.00 for adults, $5.00 for youth, no charge for librarians. Libraries will then return one-third of the proceeds to the production company and another third to help defray distribution cost. They'll keep the last third for themselves. In addition, the film will come with marketing, promotional and other value-added materials.   

While Seidl offered solid reasons for doing this, I don’t think there was full consideration or understanding of how public programming works in libraries.  Seidl offered that there are more libraries than there are McDonalds, which would, presumably, give the film an tremendous distribution mechanism.  But, not all of these libraries are large, thriving, well-staffed facilities. This more-than-McDonald’s number includes school and special libraries, tiny libraries with limited hours and staffing, and academic libraries, which may or may not offer traditional cultural programming.  Other reasons that  make her plan less than ideal:

• Many libraries have policies that preclude them from charging admission to public programs. In fact, it is counter to  ALA policy, and probably a violation of local and state ordinance in some cases to charge for library programs.
  
• Some libraries lack facilities and equipment to host such an event.
• Libraries that have healthy public programming probably have their calendars and rooms filled through next year.
• It's hard to predict attendance at library programs. Seidl imagined large numbers of attendees. In reality, programming is an unpredictable activity for many libraries. I've offered several video discussion programs offered through ALA. Some have been wildly successful. (Wild being 80 attendees.) One was downright disastrous. Even on the night when we hosted a film with discussion facilitated by the director, we were only able to attract 6 people. We did not charge admission.
• Charging admission would severely limit attendance. Free screenings would attract a broader audience. Only the most die-hard of library fans would be willing to shell out money, and the largest potential audience--librarians--wouldn't have to pay at all.

Unfortunately, I won't be able to take Seidl up on her offer as I imagine most libraries cannot. I would urge her to reconsider and use a traditional distribution model. While not perfect, it’s an impressive first effort and a film that deserves to be seen.   

Five non-library blogs meme

• TMZ.com -- celebrity trash. 
• Whatever -- John Scalzi, science fiction author, long-time and very entertaining blogger. This guy has built an incredible community via his blog. He is one of my blogging role models.
• Mind Hacks -- companion blog to book of the same name. Great blurbs about the latest news on neuroscience and psychology.
• The Zenformation Professional -- Jason is a librarian, but doesn't blog about library stuff. He's just a hell of a storyteller and documents his full-throttle wrecklessness.  I met Jason online during and after Katrina when we worked on doing online outreach for the library community.
• Drudge Report -- Drudge is not really a blog, but it has dynamic content (if you can call links "content.").

Now, go ahead. Mock my shallow, voyeuristic tendencies. If you don't, I will.

March of the Librarians

I bet this has already making the rounds--it's a YouTube video by nnnicck about the ALA Midwinter Meeting in Seattle, a la "March of the Penguins."  Nerdy me was tickled to spot myself about half-way through. Even aside from my sparkling cameo, it's a fun five minutes.

Free: Old Time Radio Programs

I don't usually listen to radio in the evening, but the other night, I made a snack run for the Raccoons, Jr. and an overnight guest. The radio was tuned to one of the two Wisconsin Public Radio Stations to which I regularly listen, and the show was Old Time Radio Drama with Norman Gilliland.  I'd honestly never thought much about Old Time Radio (OTR) or thought of it as something that would interest me.  But the program that night was a Burns & Allen show in which Gracie Allen decides to visit the library, so I got sucked in, wanting to hear how a librarian and library would be portrayed in a 1950 radio comedy. Much shushing, of course, but the librarian tries her best to do reader's advisory to a difficult-to-work-with patron.

I wanted to post a link to the program here, and found out what a big deal OTR is to a lot of people!  There are lots of fan pages, archived recordings and even scripts of OTR shows.  You can buy recordings of the programs, but it looks like there's a good bit of it available for free online. 

I'm old enough to remember my mom and my aunts and uncles talk about Life Before Television, and about all the programs they used to all gather 'round the radio for, so I knew a bit about it  For you youngsters, though, who might not have much of an idea of what mass entertainment was like before the mid-50s,  I encourage you to have a listen to some of the shows.  In addition to being good for cultural literacy, some of them are pretty entertaining! 

Wisconsin Public Radio keeps an archive of their OTR programming for 26 weeks.  Unfortunately, it's only available in Real Audio.  Here are some other sources of OTR programming in various formats:

• Internet Archive has a whole section devoted to OTR
• OldTimeRadioFans.org has a good selection of shows.
• AM 1710 Antioch has live streaming OTR
• And there's a motherlode at OTR Network Library

The Librarian: King Solomon's Mine

I'm not sure how many of you remember when the made-for-TV movie, The Librarian: Quest for the Spear came out a couple years ago.  It was sort of a big deal, with tons of promotion from TNT and lots of interest generated by ALA.  I was asked by ALA's Public Programs Office to review Quest for the Spear, which I did, despite the fact that I'm not much of an action/adventure-type gal.  Despite my high-level snark, I enjoyed the first one on some level, and had planned on playing along and live-blogging part 2, The Librarian: Return to King Solomon's Mines.  Juniorette, who watched the first one with me, was looking forward to being a co-reviewer.

In brief:  Two thumbs down.  And maybe it's not fair that we even gave it a rating because neither of us finished watching it.  I gave up first, somewhere toward the end of the first half-hour.  It's not like I anguished over my decision to walk away, thinking that it might pick up.  It just wasn't engaging me.  The first one was lots more fun because I was looking specifically at the portrayal of librarians, and  found plenty to comment on.  But, there was nothing more to add to that discussion with this second go-round.   

I did guffaw when Flynn (The Librarian, played by Noah Wyle) wiped his face on the shroud of Turin, and Juniorette thought his tussle with Exalibur was funny.  What little bit we saw of Bob Newhart (curator of the archives where Flynn works) and Jane Curtin (who plays Flynn's stern, anal-retentive boss who chides him to remember his receipts next time as he heads off to do battle with bad guys of the world) was as good as it was last time, but the rest of it left us indifferent. I headed upstairs to continue reading a biography of Mary Todd Lincoln and her black seamstress, Elizabeth Keckly (Mmm....historical biography.  Now that's tasty!), and Juniorette turned it off shortly after I left.

If you missed it, be assured that it will show again. And again. And again.  My intentions really were good, but there just wasn't enough to keep me in my seat.  I enjoy "good, stupid fun" as much as the next person, but am not a fan of this particular brand. There are plenty more reviews to help you decide whether or not to tune in:

• Fun romp (Louisville Courier Journal)
• Viewers get the shaft with Mines (LA Daily News)
• Lightweight 'Mines' faithfully follows adventure recipe (The Oregonian)
  • In our troubled worldwide ecology, "The Librarian: Return to King Solomon's Mines" is suffused with virtue. Nearly every item in it is recycled from something else. Press materials call this not rehashing but "referencing." OK. The TNT movie is a reference library.
• Good, stupid fun (Seattle Post Intelligencer)
• Innocence the real gem in 'Solomon's Mines (Rocky Mountain News)

I'll be curious to read other libblogger reviews!

Children's Book Week--my faves

They are all over Children's Book Week at It's All Good and are asking others to celebrate by sharing their favorite books from childhood. 

I guess I kicked it off early with my post about the best Halloween book ever, Two Too Many.  Another book that I probably wore out at the Hudson Grade School library was An Anteater Named Arthur by Bernard Waber. This Arthur was around probably before Marc Tolon Brown could grip a pencil.  It's a story about a mother and a son, their exasperations with and love for each other.  I love the Publisher Weekly blurb about it: "Arthur's mother looks much more loving than Whistler's mother. And much funnier."  I've often thought about why I loved this very pink picture book so much, even reading it as a sixth grader. I think it offered a warm and loving slice of domesticity that didn't much resemble my life at home.  I found it...comforting, I guess.

As an older grade school reader, I adored One Hundred and One Dalmatians by Dodie Smith.  It was probably one of the first novels I read and I loved it so much that I bought an illustrated paperback copy at the school book fair.  I still have that book, even with it's yellow, crumbly pages and no cover.  I think it was the first book I read that took place outside of the US.  Even if it was only England, it seemed sort of exotic to me.  Even more, though, I loved thinking about these animals having an elaborate chain of communication--the Twilight Barking.

Another book that I bought at book fair was Henry Reed's Journey by Keith Robertson (illustrated by Robert McCloskey), in which Henry and his sister accompany their parents on a long car trip.  Henry chronicles the trip in his journal.  That may have been the best part of it for me, as even in grade school I was avid journaler and letter writer.

My absolute favorite non-picture book was From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, about 12 year-old Claudia and her brother James, who ran away from their suburban home to live in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I loved Claudia for her courage and cleverness, and wished that I could find even a fraction of her pluck inside of me.  Juniorina, who is now 12, is named Claudia, and I think it must have come directly from my admiration for the character in E.L. Konigsburg's urban adventure.  I never ran away from home and I've never been to NYC, but think I've made some progress in the courage and pluck department.

You might think a librarian would have a bunch more childhood faves, but truthfully, I didn't have access to many books as a kid. I think we were allowed to check out one or two from the school library each week, but I didn't set foot in a public library until well into my teen years, and probably never owned more than a dozen books the first 12 years of my life.  But I could tell you what was going on with Liz and Dick and Jackie O and Aristotle, owing to all the movie mags and gossip rags in my house.  Hey, at least I was reading!

Shout-out to the Warrior Clanmembers

It's been a little over a year since I posted a story about the big Harry Potter v. The Warriors series battle in my house.  The Warriors is a fantasy series about clans of cats, and is the third most popular series over at SFBookcase.  It was one of those look-look-aren't-my-children-amusing posts that I thought might amuse a few librarians or other moms of darling children.  But, more than a year later there's seldom a day that goes by without at least a couple comments left on the post from a Warriors fan.  Some days, there are as many as 6-10 comments left.  Almost all the fans who post use their Warriors clan names such as Goldenfur, Featherstar, Fireclaw, Fernface, and the all-caps SHADOWHEART. At one point, I offered to set them up a message board or their own blog, but there wasn't huge interest. In fact, they are not much interested in me at all, and I'm not sure many of them even know that they are posting to a blog about librarianship. I've gotten a few emails from fans who thought I was the series author, Erin Hunter, and even became online friends with a very bright and interesting member of the community who asked me for reading recommendations.   

Several in this cobbled-together community point others to sites, message boards and fanfic that they've created, and I'm still puzzled as to why they still keep coming back to this one post.   On rare occasion, they'll talk a little bit about their interests and lives outside of Warriors, but the comments are largely focused on the books themselves, or even moreso, the clan characters they've created. 

I thought I had found a way to look at comment stats on Typepad, but can't find it, if it ever existed.  The last time I tried to count, I think there were roughly 500 comments.  That was a couple months ago, so I'm guessing there are at least 6-700 comments by now. Pasted into a Word document, the word count for all the posts combined is over 34,000.  That includes post author and date information, but still, I'm impressed.  It's a year-long conversation that just keeps going and going, and I'm pleased to be the salon hostess.

Not that they will even read this, but I'd like to thank the Raccoon Clan of Warriors for making themselves at home and creating such a hospitable environment.  (And for making this blog look so much more widely-read than it actually is!)   MEOW!    

Two Too Many--A Halloween Story

  Two Too Many--A Halloween Story 
  Originally uploaded by rochelle, et. al..

This is the cover from my favorite Halloween book of all time.  Two Too Many (D. McKay, 1962), by Nora S. Unwin is the story of two lost black kittens who stumble onto a witch's cottage in the woods right before Halloween.  It was my all-time favorite book in grade school, one that I even checked out as a mature, worldy sixth-grader.  I loved it for the detailed orange and black illustrations, which made me feel like I was right there for the whole adventure.  I've also had a life-long fascination with witches and magic, starting with Bewitched, and liked to think that there really were gatherings of witches and such things as broomstick races.  Since then, I have befriended witches (sadly, none fly and they are pretty normal people) and it has been suggested by more than a few people that I am one myself,  (including Mr. Raccoon who was impressed that I was able to conjure him back after a several-year absence).  I have also counted among my companions several black cats (two at present) all as interesting as the cats in this book.

Nora S. Unwin, the author and illustrator was not a prominent children's author, although she did write and illustrate other children's books.  From what little I've been able to find out about her online, she appears to have been largely known as a wood engraver. Maybe this is the day I will remember to order a book about her on interlibrary loan.   

This copy of Two Too Many came into my hands when it was weeded from the children's collection at the last library where I worked. One of the librarians had remembered me talking about it, and put it aside for me when it was weeded. Every year I pull it out around Halloween and am just as charmed by it now as I was at Hudson Grade School.