There were giants in those days

Seven of us youth services-oriented Central Library folks went out for drinks after work last night. We drank, ate pub fries, and regaled each other with hilarious and affectionate anecdotes of some of the larger-than-life librarians who retired in the past year. In fact, a major theme of the evening was the halcyon days of LAPL, when the Library Punch at holidays parties was spiked, when Fairfax and WLA branches had regular staff softball matches, when a branch might decide not to charge its needy patrons overdue fees and no one in Admin would notice, and when eccentricity and - more to the point - initiative and creativity were not only tolerated but celebrated.

This could have devolved into a pity party. 2010 has been one of the hardest years in LAPL's history, with retirements, lay-offs, and a hiring freeze leading to chronic staff shortages and reduced public hours. We all have increased workloads and responsibilities, and more uncertainty and turmoil are in the cards for the next few months.

And yet... our little group at Casey's Pub laughed, drank, marveled at the Librarians of Yore, and went home in (for me, anyway) rare good spirits. It reminded me that when I first began working at LAPL as a "student librarian," we were in dark times. The devastating Central Library fire of 1986 had destroyed much of that collection and rendered our historic building unusable, and all the Central Library staff had to be farmed out to branches. And then the budget woes of the late 80s/early 90s hit and we were slammed with a years-long hiring freeze and greatly reduced book budgets.

But we had fun! Sure, there were grim, inflexible, or downright scary supervisors ready to squelch us, but our institutional culture still had enough freewheeling flexibility (and staff members) left over from the 70s to allow for all kinds of weirdness and joy to flourish.

A great swelling of bureaucratic control and risk aversion over the next couple decades has led to a culture of distrust and cynicism among many workers. An uprising of hope when we got a new City Librarian was almost extinguished by the horrible budget woes that hit us over the past couple years. And now, as I said, we are overworked and facing a future as a newly lean and vastly altered library system.

Maybe it was my unorthodox but strangely satisfying dinner of Strongbow cider and fried potato wedges last night, but I'm feeling optimistic. Back in the late 80s, we took responsibility for our own sense of joy and accomplishment in our work. We didn't wait for Administration to make things easy for us, but rather worked hard and made time for fun, even if it had to happen after work. A sense of humor was practically a requirement for the job.

I start to hyperventilate when I contemplate the monumental tasks and challenges facing me, the Youth Services department, and in fact the whole library system in the coming year. But the very fact that we're going to have to be strong and self-reliant to even survive, much less flourish, makes me know we can do it.

The beleaguered, exhausted LAPL staff of the last few months is destined to be the next wave of glorious Library Legends. Our grace under pressure, our style and savoir faire, our unrelenting willingness to see the absurdity and humor in any situation - these will help us create a new LAPL that not only gives the best service possible to our communities but is actually an amazing and energizing place to work.

Less pity parties, more pubs! Celebrate the past, laugh at the present, and welcome the future!

And please, draw me another pint of that cider...

One kid's thrill is another kid's chill

NPR had a segment this morning on scariness in children's television and how, while producers of kids' tv shows want to thrill kids without terrifying them, sometimes one can't predict what will scare kids. A funny example was an Arthur episode in which one character describes what happens when you bottle up your feelings, and demonstrates by shaking up a bottle of soda. The other kids imagine Francine's head flying off and landing in someone's yard - which seemed silly and funny to the grown-ups creating the show but apparently super-scary to hundreds if not thousands of young viewers.

Children's librarians are well aware that some kids are more easily frightened by others, and as a result lots of us tend to go easy with our Halloween programming. My audience was usually quite young, so I stayed on the Plumply Dumply Pumpkin end of the scariness spectrum, and never got much scarier than an interactive telling of The Little Old Lady Who Was Not Afraid of Anything - and even then I kept watching my audience to see if I should make my clomp-clomps and clap-claps goofy rather than ominous.

How lovely, then, to get to tell and read stories to older kids, who WANT to be scared! For them, it was always The Peculiar Such Thing and Sopdoll, and any number of other folk tales, told with maximum suspense and creepy sound effects.

But one can't always predict what will scare a kid. When I took my older daughter to Knott's Berry Farm, she did just fine on her first roller coaster ride on the "Jaguar". What really freaked her out, though, was the atmospheric lead-up to the ride, which took the line through a dimly lit, Aztec-like temple full of eerie noises. In fact, any dimly lit and somewhat mysterious place had her clinging to me in terror, even if it was a museum - this one in particular literally made her run for the door. Granted, it's a weird museum, but scary? I wouldn't have thought so.

We had a coffee table book of Life photos in the house when I was a kid, and I pored over it incessantly, even obsessively. The context for most of the photos was unknown to me, so I just took the photos at face value, aided (sort of) by the short captions next to each one. Some photos were obviously tragic and disturbing (dead soldiers), some were obviously funny (a baby with spaghetti on its head) - but some I couldn't interpret at all.

It strikes me as odd now, but this photo filled me with dread. The caption used the term "pied piper" and said that he was leading the children away - and I knew the terrible ending to that particular tale. What was going on here? The photo seemed light-hearted on the surface, but I sensed very dark and sinister depths and was chilled everytime I looked at it.

Kids can't quite distinguish between real life and fantasy until at least age 5 (and in my case much later - and in fact I'm not sure I've ever quite figured out the distinction) - so we need to be careful about sharing spooky books with young kids. But on the other hand, a child may shudder with fear at a story or illustration that would strike almost anyone else as innocuous.

So this Halloween, read and tell stories to little kids that are thrilling but not too chilling - and when in doubt, throw in a bit of humor and silliness, give kids a warning and an out ("this next story has a scary pumpkin in it that says 'boo!' - so if you hate pumpkins who yell 'boo!', you could cover your ears at that part"), or even talk with kids afterward about the story to let them relieve a little nervous tension.

Just please don't tell any stories about pied pipers.

Breakfast with Jacqueline

There's no better way to start the day than by breakfasting at the Skirball Center with dozens of writers, librarians, teachers, and fans of literature for young people, and that's what I plan to do on Saturday, November 6th. After breakfast, Jacqueline Woodson (Jacqueline Woodson!!!) will give a talk, and if that's not enough excitement, Marla Frazee, Kathleen Krull, Mary E. Pearson, Hope Anita Smith, and Andrew Smith will be receiving awards.

AND Maureen Wade, Librarian Extraordinaire, will be honored with the Dorothy McKenzie Award for Distinguished Service to the Field of Children's Literature.

AND there will be oodles of books to buy and get signed ('cause the holidays are right around the corner).

AND then attendees get to visit the Skirball Cultural Center exhibits for free (check out the Maira Kalman exhibit, among other nifty things).

If you're in Southern California, this is an event not to be missed. So get yourself over to the Children's Literature Council website and Sign up today!

Review of Out of My Mind by Sharon Draper

Draper, Sharon. Out of My Mind. Simon & Schuster, 2010.

In 5th grade, things finally begin to change for Melody. Unable to walk, talk, eat without assistance, or control most of her movements thanks to cerebral palsy, she has been relegated to Special Ed classes for years. However, when she gets to go to music class and begins to meet some other 5th graders, her world begins to open up.

Although no one seems to be able to tell, Melody is really smart. Blessed with an amazing memory and an urge to suck in everything she sees, hears, and reads, all her knowledge and thoughts are just simmering inside of her, yearning to burst out. A special computer that enables Melody to communicate allows her to let her mind off its leash and experience a full gamut of 5th grade experience, including a Whiz Kids competition.

This book is all about the pleasure of listening to Melody's feisty, dry voice as she narrates her tale. The idea of being imprisoned in one's own uncontrollable body, unable to communicate even the simplest ideas, is a horrifying one, and yet Melody manages to portray her life in a matter-of-fact and even humorous manner. Her situation sucks hugely, as she will be the first to admit, but it's what she's always known. And she has what have to be the most awesomely patient and fabulous parents in existence.

Harder to take are the reactions of her classmates to Melody. Even the nice ones would rather not deal with her most of the time, and Melody knows that her occasional involuntary drooling, shrieking, and kicking are all pretty off-putting, not to mention that she can't speak. And yet the person inside is a composed, funny, warm, smart girl. The contrast is so great that even after she can use her computer to compose witty responses, her classmates can't quite believe that Melody isn't stupid. It's horribly frustrating and painful.

Some circumstances seemed a bit contrived - for instance, a dramatic and scary scene involving Melody's sister feels unnecessary, and the obligatory mean girls never rise above stereotypes - but mostly the scenes and characters feel warm and real. Melody may often seem wise beyond her years, but hey, she's had a lot of time to think and observe. And that sassy, eye-rolling humor and her penchant for slang land her back squarely and appropriately in tween territory. Is Melody black? I don't remember if it's ever explicitly stated. Sharon Draper is black, and Melody describes herself and having short, dark, curly hair - but no one's race is mentioned, that I can recall.

The jacket art is crisp and appealing (it reminds me of Cynthia Lord's Rules - must be the fish), the title, with its double meaning, is clever, and the story will grab most 5th graders. Highly recommended for ages 9 to 12.

Opera Dogs and more

If you're in the Los Angeles and want a great reason to visit Central Library, drop on by tomorrow afternoon.

We've got two Performing Books shows happening at 2 and 3 pm, and the featured book is The Dog Who Sang at the Opera by Jim West and Marshall Izen. A storyteller (Peter Kors), an opera singer (Heather Calvete) and a pianist (Linda Zoolalian) bring the story to life, accompanied by slides of illustrations from the book.

It's free! Bring along a kid and prepare to have a musical afternoon. And don't forget, parking is only $1 under the library with validation!

Eva Ibbotson

I just found out that Eva Ibbotson passed away yesterday at the age of 85.

She is one of those authors whom you feel you get to know well, just by reading her books. Her books, from the light yet satisfying fantasies like Which Witch and The Secret of Platform 13 to her historical novels such as The Star of Kazan and The Dragonfly Pool, are funny, wise, magical, and wonderful - and I'm sure that Ms. Ibbotson was exactly the same. I was lucky enough to be assigned several of her novels to review for School Library Journal over the years, and it was always a joy.

If you want a treat, go to the library or bookstore, choose any Ibbotson novel, and read it tonight - and then recommend it to a friend. That would be the perfect tribute to this fine writer.

Review of Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi

Bacigalupi, Paolo. Ship Breaker. Little, Brown and Company, 2010.
Nailer (who might be 14, might be 15 - he isn't sure) scrapes out a living by crawling through the ducts of old, long-wrecked oil tankers, pulling out copper wire and anything else valuable he can find for his crew. He and the rest of the ship breakers live day to day in temporary shacks made of found junk, hoping to survive to adulthood and beyond.

After a huge storm (a "city killer"), Nailer and his friend Pima find a wrecked clipper ship, which is the term for the light and incredibly fast ships that use sophisticated materials and technology to skim along the ocean's surface on hydrofoils. In the wreck is a girl named Nita, a "swank," who has lived a life Nailer can't even imagine. Against his better judgment, he helps her to escape both the people who have been chasing her and also his own dad, whose villainy knows no bounds - and this decision changes his life.

This is dystopian science fiction but it could just as easily, with some tweaks, take place today. Nailer lives in a Gulf Coast hit by city-killing hurricanes and flooded by rising ocean levels. Oil is a fuel of the past, hence the crippled, obsolete oil tankers, and in fact the earth has been stripped clean of much of its resources. However, the bare and harsh existence Nailer has lived since he was born looks a lot like that of a slum child in India or Brazil or many other third-world countries. Nita, the rich girl, would never call her world a "dystopia" - for her, it's a paradise until it turns upside down.

Nailer isn't always likable. Although he's obviously a good person, his brutal life has made him tough and pragmatic, and he doesn't always waste time being nice. And yet he's clearly so decent and even fragile (being young and not a psychopath) compared to those around him. Except for Nailer, we don't get much of an understanding of the characters, but most of them are fairly interesting and one in particular is fascinating - that of the intriguing dog-man Tool (yes, he's genetically altered), bred to be a loyal fighter bound to a patron but somehow fiercely independent.

This is gritty and violent SF, with little glamor or even advanced technology (except for those clipper ships and a fancy train). It feels much more realistic and likely than another drowned-Earth book, Raiders' Ransom by Emily Diamand (my review), in which the surviving citizens of England have formed clans that resemble something out of the Dark Ages. It's hard to read about the almost insurmountable rift between the millions of teeming masses barely able to survive and the few rich elite - especially since that situation does exist in our world today.

A bit of swash-buckling adventure on the high seas adds a final exciting element to this tale (not to mention giving characters and readers some welcome relief from the muddy, oily coastal setting we are mired in for most of the story), making this all the more recommended for ages 12 and up.

Note: This title is a finalist for the 2010 National Book Award in the category Young People's Literature