Quiet, Please: Dispatches from a Public Librarian

"The librarian," writes Scott Douglas, "was the typical stereotypical librarian - ugly, clunky glasses, hair in a tight bun, and clothing that could just as easily have been put on a man." Prepare to give up your stereotypes. Douglas is writing about a librarian in a library he visited, but he is himself a librarian, and his account of his career, _Quiet, Please: Dispatches from a Public Librarian_ (Da Capo) is anything but dusty, dry, quiet, or humorless. The librarians he profiles, and he himself, don't fit stereotypes, although they all seem to have more than their share of peculiarities. The memoir of librarian about his job might not seem like one that had much potential for exciting reading, especially if the reader disregards the death threats described here, but Douglas often writes with intense humanity and concern about his fellow librarians and the patrons they serve. He also serves up plenty of annoyance (often at himself) expressed with wit, and more jokes than you'd expect from the guy at the reference desk. There are, it is true, lots and lots of footnotes to his book, but they are mostly humorous asides. It is especially rewarding as a memoir as it describes without pride how the author moved from being an aimless youth to being interested in others and in the purposefulness of helping out. Douglas loved libraries as a kid, but he didn't have a life goal of becoming a librarian. He coasted into it, from being a volunteer, a library page, because he loved books. He went to library graduate school, but continued to have his doubts about his choice of career; the book details ways that his choice was affirmed, often involving interactions with patrons, about whom Douglas writes with annoyance and affection, often simultaneously. One bunch of patrons who helped him see his way were the handicapped. "It's not that I hate them or think they are a burden," he starts out. "I'm just uncomfortable around them. I don't know what to do when I see them." But while his discomfort never goes completely away, he learned that rather than sitting bored at the reference desk, "... I could try and make a little more of the job. I started to go beyond answering the questions, and began getting to know a few of the people." He even learns to value old-lady patrons: "For the most part, they're either warm and fuzzy or bitter and rude. Either way, its fun to listen to their rambling theories about life, happiness, and why everyone should read Dick Francis." And then there was the one that insisted on being given the Oxford English Dictionary on audiotape. One kid came to the desk to say he had been threatened in the restroom by a bully with a TASER. "I feel old to say this," says Douglas, but when I was a boy we didn't threaten other kids with TASER." There is a lot more going on in the library than just checking out books, and a librarian has to do jobs no librarian school ever taught about. Besides its great good humor, _Quiet, P

Once I started this book, I couldn't put it down until I finished it. The descriptions of the crazy characters as well as the absurd situations Douglas finds himself in are extremely entertaining. I laughed out loud multiple times while reading and was sad to reach the end. The best part about this book is that underneath the hilarious anecdotes there is a heart-warming story that reminded me why I love working in a library. I highly recommend it to anyone who frequents the library, whether as a patron, volunteer, or employee.

If you ever wanted to know what really goes on in the life of a librarian, here's the book for you. As you will find out, it's not all just sitting behind a desk and saying "Shh" all day. Follow Douglas as he journeys from library page, to library school student, to librarian in this hillarious and touching memoir.

Ah, the library. Some people think of it as a nice, safe haven for some quiet studying, and others know the truth: that more often than not it is a dumping ground for bratty children, obnoxious teenagers, cranky adults, and everything else in-between. By now people know about some of the admittedly nutty folks who go to the library everyday, but what about the nutty people who actually work there? What I liked about this book is that it not only gives you stories about some of the weirdos who come into the library all the time, but it also focuses on the staff, the bizarre rules and regulations of the library, and the idiotic process of obtaining a Masters Degree in library science so that you can make a decent salary by sleeping at the reference desk and having your life threatened by ornery computer users. This is a great book, and I highly recommend it for anyone who's interested in knowing how a public library is actually run. Popcorn machines inside the library, rats in the break room, bribing children to read with promises of free burgers, librarians who don't read (and recommend books that they haven't read), old ladies who physically abuse the staff, and yes, even a one-chapter love story. It's all here. Another nice touch is the overuse of footnotes, which some people will definitely find irritating, and various trivia about library history. There are also some bits from Douglas' McSweeney's dispatches, which will be familiar to those who've read them before and a nice introduction for those who haven't. Best of all, for me at least, is reading how an optimistic book-lover grows increasingly disappointed and apathetic about his job. The ridiculousness of policy and expectations of a demanding public take their toll, but there is always a sliver of optimism throughout the book, which was more than I expected.