Libraries: Still All About the Story
I love libraries. I love the way they smell. The quiet hum of florescent lights and shuffling pages. I love walking up and down the stacks trailing my fingers over the spines looking for the perfect story for my current mood. I love that every book, dvd, and cd has an exact place where I can expect to find it waiting for me (unless it’s right after story hour in the children’s area, then all bets are off).
As a child, I was the kid who would visit the school library, check out a stack of books, then return the next day for a new stack. As I got older, the books got longer and the stack got shorter, eventually graduating to the public library with its more varied bookshelves, maybe tip-toeing into the adult section for something taboo like THE EXORCIST during my horror phase (it was a short-lived phase). I had favorites that I would read over and over again, like the SWEET VALLEY HIGH series and THE LORD OF THE RINGS.
I loved how a book could take me to somewhere new, teach me something about history or survival. Stepping into the library, was like stepping into the wardrobe to Narnia, except it might spit me out in India, or New York, or Middle Earth. My husband is often astounded by my random knowledge of Regency England acquired through my beloved historical romances, devoured in huge stacks after I finished graduate school.
At every stage of my life, libraries have been there for me, ready with what ever information I needed—be it research for a literary criticism essay to a biography on Gypsy Rose Lee to a story about magical portals.
While libraries have updated, replacing the card catalogs of my youth with a convenient app on my phone, they still smell the same. There are more comfy chairs and lively programs—last year my children and I learned all about sled dogs. I can check out an ebook from the comfort of my bed at midnight or search the catalogs of every library in the county for a dvd I want to watch. But the core mission is still there, to connect readers with books, to make the endless wardrobe of stories available to everyone.
Recently, I’ve made my love for libraries more official as a board member for my local library. Every month, I get an inside peek at how a library is run. How important it is for people to come through the door, to attend the programs, and check out the materials. Our library is involved, not just in getting books into hands, but also bringing people and their stories together.
A few weeks ago, there was an event where adults in various stages of Alzheimers shared objects (like phones with cords and cameras with film) with local kindergarteners. The children were able to touch the items and ask questions while the adults were able to share their memories and knowledge. These two demographics wouldn’t normally be able to interact, but during this special program, they were able to make connections. Moments like those remind me how much more a library can be for a community.
Libraries are magical places filled with people, both on the page and in real life, who are ready to help everyone who walks in the door. We all have stories, and the library is the perfect place to share them. So, dear reader, if you haven’t visited your local library recently. Pop in. Check out their calendar of events, browse their stacks, talk to their staff about their favorites, but most importantly, share your stories.
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Amy E. Reichert, author of The Coincidence of Coconut Cake (2015) and Luck, Love & Lemon Pie (2016), loves to write stories that end well with characters you’d invite to dinner. A wife, mom, amateur chef, Fix-It Mistress, and cider enthusiast, she earned her MA in English Literature and serves on her local library’s board of directors.
Find out more about her on her website Www.amyereichert.com
Follow her on twitter Www.twitter.com/aereichert
and facebook Www.facebook.com/amyereichert
Category: On Writing
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