by Sarah Statz Cords

I am not one of those people who takes to new technologies or softwares readily. And when I say I don’t take to them “readily,” what I mean is, programs have to be EASY for me to use, and I still have to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into using any kind of social software or tool. Just because I do blog doesn’t mean I’m in love with the platform—it just means I don’t have the money or time to publish a print newsletter (and no one has the time to read one). To some extent we all have to work with the tools of our time.

Because I am not an early adopter, I have an appreciation for books like Connie Crosby’s Effective Blogging for Libraries. It’s part of the Tech Set series of books, published by Neal-Schuman and edited by Ellyssa Kroski, the mission of which is to provide “a set of practical guidebooks for using today’s cutting-edge technologies specifically within libraries.” In this volume Crosby offers just that—PRACTICAL guidelines and tips for planning, starting, maintaining, and marketing library blogs.

That emphasis on “effective” blogging is what makes this a particularly helpful volume, if not a particularly exciting read. Although Crosby covers all the basics on the technical details—which software applications to use, blogroll applications, using widgets, how to monitor your blog traffic, etc. Where she really shines is in her suggestions for the bigger picture. From the very start she discusses finding a purpose for your blog, developing blog voice, and other nitty-gritty details like coordinating several blog contributors, moderating comments, planning content ahead, and analyzing whether usage of the blog is worth the investment of staff time and resources.

It’s not a book you’ll want to read straight through, and it’s not the book you’ll want if you need harder-core tips on how to really get the most out of blogging software or design your template. It IS, however, a book that you’ll want to have on hand if you’re considering starting a blog at your library; everyone on your team would benefit from reading some of its chapters and then using what they learn to more efficiently plan your library’s blogging strategy.

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by Sarah Statz Cords

Before I read it, I thought, come on, who can write an entire book about science fiction and fantasy book groups?

Well, now I know the answer: Neil Hollands can. And he can hit it out of the park.

Hollands’s title Fellowship in a Ring: A Guide for Science Fiction and Fantasy Book Groups*, seems a bit more intimidating (at 300 pages) than it really is. Hollands opens his guide with a chapter on the mechanics of forming and leading such groups, including helpful tips on finding members, setting meeting times, leading discussions, selecting titles, and other ideas for shaking up group meetings (including watching related movies or TV shows, inviting authors to speak, and many others). Of particular interest in this opening section is his detailed discussion of choosing books by theme, rather than having all members of the group read the same title.

Subsequent chapters focus more on the SF and Fantasy books under consideration; Hollands offers information about different subgenres, moves smoothly into lists of 25 great fantasy and SF titles for discussion (complete with questions and suggestions for further read-alikes), collections of “themes” (for example: titles featuring animals), and a short chronology of SF and fantasy history.

What’s wonderful about this book is, not only its comprehensiveness about its stated subject matter, but also the possibilities for adapting it to other uses. The introductory chapter on book group mechanics is so helpful that many of its suggestions could be adapted to other genre and less subject-specific book groups; likewise, the latter chapters provide a wealth of information about the SF and fantasy genres specifically and would be a great resource for library staff looking to beef up their knowlege of these types of books (particularly if, due to budget cuts, they don’t have access to other books or databases that are more dedicated “genre studies”).

And, last but not least: you have to love a library reference book with a catchy title.

*Full disclosure: this book is published by ABC-CLIO, which is also the publisher of the Reader’s Advisor Online database and this blog.

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by Sarah Statz Cords

The book Thrillers: 100 Must Reads, edited by David Morrell and Hank Wagner, has been sitting on my TBR pile for weeks now. I wanted to read it, I just was never in the mood. Eventually the library due date forced the issue (as it has done for me so many times before), and I decided it was time to take it on. What a fun surprise, then, that this “reference” book turned out to be as page-turning a read as many of the thrillers its contributors describe.

The book is a compilation of one hundred chapters, contributed by a wide range of thriller and suspense authors. Many of the titles discussed were decided upon by Morrell and Wagner, “chosen on the basis of the impact each had on the genre.” Most of the books described were published before 2000, although an exception was made for the inclusion of the final chapter, Steve Berry’s chapter about Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code.

Each essay is short, about three to five pages long, and opens with a short paragraph about the author in question’s life and writing career. (At the end of each essay, the work of the contributing essayist is described, which is also quite useful.) In between are thoughts on what made, say, a book like Lee Child’s Killing Floor (and his anti-hero, Jack Reacher), so very compelling to readers. How’s this for a handy nutshell description of the book’s appeal?

“The plot is complex and multilayered, schemes interweaving with schemes, and a significant portion of the fun involves watching Reacher navigate through them. While an intensely physical character—the only description given of him is his huge size—his primary weapon is his mind. He is a creature of logic who reasons his way to the solution. And unlike many suspense novels, where the point is to distract readers with sleight of hand, Child wants us along every step of the way.” (p. 360.)

A slight word of warning: a few of the chapters contain massive spoilers about the thrillers being described, so if you still plan to read them for yourself, you may want to give those chapters a miss. For someone like me, however (I have tried to read and like thrillers, but I don’t, I just don’t), who wants to LEARN about thrillers but not necessarily READ thrillers, it’s the perfect solution.

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by Sarah Statz Cords

Ben Yagoda’s book Memoir: A History, has been sitting on my work table for a week now, staring at me reproachfully as I try and figure out how to review it. We have a tempestuous history, this book and I.

When I first started it, I fell in love. The entire first chapter held me enthralled; it was Yagoda’s own take on the popularity and ubiquity of memoirs in today’s publishing and reading environment. It read like a literal “who’s who” of memoir titles and authors–from Ishmael Beah to James Frey to John Grogan, Dave Pelzer to Augusten Burroughs to Elizabeth Gilbert, they’re all there. In this one pithy chapter Yagoda dissected numerous subgenres and types of the form, including celebrity memoirs, “misery memoirs,” “shtick lit,” blog memoirs, dad memoirs, and many more. I enjoyed that first chapter immensely.

And then, as sometimes happens in relationships, the magic faded. This is not the author’s fault. Yagoda gave me exactly what the book’s title promised: the history of memoirs, from Augustine’s The Confessions (circa the fifth century) all the way through to twentieth-century America (and beyond). And it was a good history, too. Well-written, comprehensive, with lots of titles thrown in as examples. Everything was as it should be, and I’m fascinated by memoirs as a form, so I should have been ecstatic. Instead I found myself skipping large chunks of text.

It really is a good book. If you’re interested in literary history or would like to know more about the roots of memoir writing, you need look no further. (And the final chapter wraps things up nicely, including some thoughts on the nature of memoirs, and the authors who sometimes make them up.) But I recognize that not all librarians have the time to plow through this comprehensive a history. In that case, I’d check it out from your own library and read just the first and last chapters (and there’s one in the middle about “truth” in memoirs which is also worth the time)–if you don’t know anything about memoirs when you start, you certainly will by the time you finish.

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by Sarah Statz Cords

If you couldn’t tell by now, I am a complete sucker for books about books. Each month as I take a wander through the “New Nonfiction” titles listed in my local public library’s catalog, I make sure to keep careful watch for each new book about books (or reading) that I can find.

This month I stumbled across Hallie Ephron’s pleasingly chunky little book titled The Bibliophile’s Devotional: 365 Days of Literary Classics. The book follows a simple enough format; for each day of the year, a suitable book “classic” is listed and described. Ephron does a good job of matching days and seasons to associated reading; for example, the classic listed for April 15 was Andre Dubus III’s novel House of Sand and Fog, which was about, appropriately enough, a house that was wrongly seized for tax violations (with tragic events ensuing). Likewise, Ray Bradbury’s autumnal classic Something Wicked This Way Comes is described on the page for October 26; the December 25 entry is Dylan Thomas’s title A Child’s Christmas in Wales. Nonfiction titles are also included; David McCullough’s historical biography John Adams is listed on January 20; Mary Karr’s memoir The Liar’s Club on March 18.

Each day provides a title and author, a quote from the book, a short synopsis, and a quote about the book or author from another source. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable little book to peruse, and I’d highly recommend just leaving it out in your staff break room for a while (for fun, if for no other reason; I’ll bet you a fiver that everyone who sits down to their break at least pages through to their birthday to see what title is recommended). This is also a book that could prove handy when creating displays or reading lists–want to come up with a list of “Readable Classics”? Look no further. Looking for date- or season-related displays? In spring, check out the entries for March and April; for fall, peruse September and October.

Ephron is also the author of the fun reference book 1001 Books for Every Mood, and is a book review columnist for the Boston Globe newspaper.

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by Sarah Statz Cords

As I do not have kids, and I have never been all that interested in Children’s Librarianship (it feels weird to admit that, but although I am interested in children, and very interested in children reading, I’ll admit my professional interests have always been more in the line of encouraging adults to read), I didn’t think I would get much out of Emma Walton Hamilton’s* book Raising Bookworms: Getting Kids Reading for Pleasure and Empowerment.

It is my pleasure to report I was completely wrong. This is a great book.

Hamilton wastes no time in laying out her argument for why she believes it is imperative for kids to engage in reading: “Chances are, you already believe, as I do, that there’s a direct relationship between reading skills and our ability to participate in the world with confidence as an informed citizen, able to communicate effectively, succeed in our chosen career, enjoy rewarding relationships, and achieve personal fulfillment.” (p. 2.) She also goes on to list some frightening literacy (or illiteracy, rather) statistics, including one that suggests that eighty percent of U.S. families did not buy or read a book last year.**

From there she’s off into her chapters, each of which examines a specific age group from babies and toddlers to middle schoolers and beyond, and each of which offers ways to help children equate reading with joy and pleasure (imagine that!), listing strategies for home reading, books particularly appropriate to each age group, and other activities and techniques that support reading.

My favorite thing about this book, hands down, is the suggestion that appears in nearly every chapter: “Set a good example!” Hamilton states that “nothing will teach children to love reading more than seeing the adults around them showing enthusiasm for it.” (p. 17.) She takes the trouble to restate the suggestion in many different ways, saying that she knows it’s hard, but parents and other adults must make and take the time for themselves to enjoy reading so the kids around them can observe that. When I worked in a public library I always felt like we didn’t sufficiently address that concern or offer enough reading support to adults; children’s services got a lot of publicity but what happened, I always wondered, when those kids grew up and no one gave them any more prizes for reading in the summer? It used to break my heart when parents would regularly come to the library with their kids and check out a number of kids’ books, but not one book for themselves. (Although, yes, it was great they were in the library at all.)

But I digress. This is an interesting book for those looking for ideas to encourage reading in children (and the reading lists are very helpful too–I myself might check out some of the titles suggested for middle- and high-schoolers), but it’s also a great book if you want to think about how you can encourage adults to encourage children to read.

Hamilton is not a trained reading specialist, and does not offer tips on the mechanics of reading, but she is a children’s book author herself and has worked as an arts education administrator.

*Fun fact: the author is the daughter of actress and singer Julie Andrews.

**Gasp!

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by Sarah Statz Cords

Last night I spent a very enjoyable evening reading Jenny LaPerriere’s and Trish Christiansen’s book Merchandising Made Simple: Using Standards and Dynamite Displays to Boost Circulation.*

I know. Reading a book on doing library displays when I’m not currently working IN a library, and enjoying it, pretty much marks me out as a total nerd. But I am now a nerd with a much better understanding of how “CPS” (Collection Presentation Standards) and attractive book displays and merchandising can truly translate into better circulation for your collection and a more pleasant facility.

The book is straightforward, can be read easily in one or two sittings, and (perhaps most importantly) includes a wealth of helpful and informative photographs. In the first few chapters, the authors do not make the mistake of leaping right into suggesting display themes, but instead build their case for understanding your patrons’ needs, adapting retail and merchandising techniques to your needs, and understanding both traffic flow in your library and what tools are available to form the base of good displays. In later chapters they do provide more nitty-gritty suggestions (how to use props, how to make signs, how to keep track of your display schedules), but they also highlight the importance of involving all staff members in the process, as well as the necessity of training shelvers and all staff of the presentation standards a true library merchandiser should try to uphold.

I spent a lot of time working in library circulation departments, where the real work of maintaining the library’s collections is often performed, and these authors’ impressive understanding of just how important EVERYONE in your library is when tasked with keeping it clean and attractive made a real impression on me. This paragraph in particular struck me:

“Keep your staff members involved at every step by asking for their input and ideas and explaining your process. You want the entire staff to be passionate about connecting the customers and the collection in more seamless and exciting ways. The benefits are high when everyone has a sense of ownership.” (p. 97.)

Passion! Ownership! Excitement! Remember when you felt all those things about working in a library, about not only being around books and readers, but helping them to find each other in meaningful ways? If nothing else, reading this excellent book might help rekindle all those feelings. When I visit my local library this afternoon I would guess I’ll find myself straightening and tidying whatever shelves I choose to browse; I won’t be able to help it.

*Full disclosure: This title is published by Libraries Unlimited/ABC-CLIO, which also publishes the Reader’s Advisor Online and this blog.

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by Sarah Statz Cords

If Marilyn Johnson was looking to sell a book to librarians and collection developers who buy their libraries’ books, she couldn’t have chosen a better topic or title than This Book Is Overdue! How Librarians and Cybrarians Can Save Us All. Whether or not the book will sell to the general public might be more difficult to say*; but I would guess that even the most flinty-hearted of information professionals melt when they see the cover image of a super librarian, complete with cape and librarian glasses, on the front cover.

Johnson clearly loves using libraries, and has respect for librarians and cybrarians of all types, whether they are providing reference help in the streets of New York during the 2008 Republican Convention or they are virtual librarians organizing libraries and collections in Second Life. Her coverage is broad: she first discusses the possibility of information overload in our modern society, and then goes on to tell stories about the divide between librarians and IT staff members, librarian bloggers, librarians who resisted the Patriot Act, long-distance master’s degree students, “anarchist” librarians, librarian stereotypes, Second Life volunteer librarians, and staff members of the New York Public Library.

Any type of librarian who has practiced for any time at all will recognize much here: the frustrations the IT staff have with the public staff (and vice versa); the struggle to remain relevant in a world where more information seems to be available than ever before (but it is surprisingly hard to find specific and helpful information); the question of the lengths to which librarians should go to reach out to patrons; even the surprisingly common challenge of finding unidentified poop in unexpected places in one’s library. To some extent Johnson’s description of the varied experiences and challenges of the profession is admirable, especially as she is a writer and not a library staffperson herself.

But that is also, for me, where the book failed. Although I would imagine that many readers who pick this book up will be library staff members, I don’t know that they are really its target audience. Reading the book as both a former academic and public librarian, my overwhelming feeling was one of “yeah, okay, so?” to most of the chapters (although I enjoyed the chapter on Second Life, which I’ve never really understood and still don’t, more than I expected to). Of course there’s a ton of librarians who blog. Yes, librarians have always been very aware of their stereotype, and many now subvert those stereotypes in varied and wonderful ways. And yes, of course, there’s poop in the public library. (What she neglected to mention was the wet butt-prints left by diaper-wearing babies plopped by their mothers on library counters and desks; vomit; used Kleenexes handed to staff; and books returned to the book drop that are saturated with cat urine.)

I wanted to love it; I ended up pretty ambivalent about it, and really only finished it because I wanted to review it here. (And I certainly preferred her earlier book, The Dead Beat, about obituaries and obituary writing.) Has anyone else read this one who wants to disagree with me? Let’s discuss!

*Although it and its author are getting some good press: As was pointed out at EarlyWord.com, Johnson has been interviewed at NPR and at Salon. It has also been reviewed in the Wall Street Journal (and this review is right on, in my opinion), the Boston Globe, Library Journal, and Publisher’s Weekly. Another librarian’s take on the book can be found at Ricklibrarian.

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By Sarah Statz Cords

All right, I’ll admit it. I don’t know that there are many ways to relate Murray Browne’s new title The Book Shopper: A Life in Review, to reader’s advisory service and professional development.

But sometimes, the heart just wants what it wants, and a lot of times, what my heart wants is simply a great read about books and reading. And that is undoubtedly what Browne’s slim volume is. In a mere 200 pages, Browne tackles many aspects of reading and the physical arrangement and procurement of books.

There’s chapters here on how “Book Lovers Are Not Necessarily People Lovers,” “What Every Good Bookstore* Should Have,” and “Managing the Personal Library.” It’s meant to be a guide to the world of used bookstores, but I really think it works as a guide to the broader world of reading and readers as well.

Browne himself admits that he has had a varied career, including stints as a book reviewer and author, and he does hold an MS in Information Sciences from the University of Tennessee. His book–which I’ll admit I have a soft spot for because he includes a chapter on “the new journalists,” also known as some of my own personal favorite authors such as Joan Didion and Tom Wolfe–has been published by Paul Dry Books, an independent publisher in Philadelphia. Even if you don’t know if this title is for you, do check out Paul Dry’s catalog; it’s an eclectic joy to behold, and boasts numerous titles you might be able to use in your libraries.

I’ve already blathered on about this title too much, when I should have let Browne do his own talking. I’m bringing in the big guns with this excerpt; this is a paragraph designed, I think, to resonate with readers, librarians, and readers’ advisors:

“I take comfort in knowing that in a world fraught with conformity, where you see the same retail stores, smell the same fast foods, and hear the same music on the car radio no matter where you are, there still exists a tribe of non-conformists. These people (including you, dear reader) are like that beloved used bookstore near a campus town with inventory piled high and deep…Through years of reading, an individual becomes one of those places that I never want to give up visiting.”

*Insert the word library here instead; that helps us relate this book to library service!

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By Sarah Statz Cords

Want to learn how to write the next big bestseller? Want some insight into how bestselling novels get written? Look no further than Steve Hely’s handy new book How I Became a Famous Novelist.

In it, you’ll learn the secrets of bestsellerdom, ranging from the vague (“Write a popular book. Do not waste energy making it a good book.”) to the very specific (“Must include a club, secrets/mysterious missions, shy characters, characters whose lives are changed suddenly…”).

You’ll learn how literary agents and publishers really have no idea at all about what makes a book a bestseller. You’ll learn that authors are indeed the rock stars of the intellectual world, hoping to use their book readings to meet girls.

It’d be a brilliant tell-all about the publishing and reading world…if only it were nonfiction. That’s right. Hely’s book is most emphatically a novel—all about his main character, Pete Tarslaw, and Pete’s drive to write a bestseller so he can rub his ex-girlfriend’s nose in his success at her upcoming wedding.

So why profile this book here, where we typically talk about nonfiction books about books and reading? Well, primarily because variety is the spice of life. Also: because this novel is funny. And not least because librarians and readers’ advisors are perhaps the ideal audiences for Hely’s satire; who knows those bestseller lists and what’s on them better than most library staff members?

Sometimes, even in the midst of our quest to understand books and the readers who love them, we need a lighthearted treat too. And this novel most definitely is that. Do give it a try, and be sure not to miss the fictional Bestseller List which Tarslaw studies while trying to come up with his own bestselling plot. It includes this title:

“The Balthazar Tablet, by Tim Drew. The murder of a cardinal leads a Yale professor and an underwear model to the Middle East, where they uncover clues to a conspiracy kept hidden by the Shriners.” Sound familiar?

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