Odd Book Out

Well, somebody beat me to it. And they have formed quite a collection! Click and marvel at such titles as Cheese Problems Solved and Squid Recruitment Dynamics.

Organization of Info-what?

After a spectacular January that included a horrific incident, the untimely death of a loved one, an acute attack of the stomach flu, the complete and utter depletion of all of my sick leave, a sluggish return to my normal full-time work schedule, and the start of the Spring semester course that I didn't drop, February is looking up.

This semester it's time for "Organization of Information." From what I can tell so far, it explains the abstract theories of organization and all of the strange and complex words that librarians have created to describe simple concepts. For example: no longer is it a "book" or a "DVD" or a "website," it is an "information package." Then there is "metadata," or "data about data."

"Metadata" is one I'd heard before--the idea is that an "information package" contains data, and thus any data describing that package, such as a bibliographic record, is metadata. Compare this to a similar word--"metafiction" (you guessed it; it's fiction about fiction, those wacky stories about people writing stories, or movies about people making a movie, etc.).

The most thought-bending one I've heard so far is that a "work" is the abstract, intangible idea in a creator's head, such as the David statue before Michelangelo carved him out of that block. An "expression" is the original tangible form that the work took, such as the David statue itself. A "manifestation" is a particular version or form of the expression, such as a picture of David or a book about David. And an "item" describes the particular copy of a given manifestation, such as that 4th printing of that picture of David, which happens to have a torn corner and exist in your local library. This is all part of the new-ish "FRBR" concept--"Functional Requirements for Bibliographic Records."

Confused? Try reading my textbook.

What it really all comes down to is that library school is what you do if you want that piece of paper. And I want my piece of paper. But I think we could all benefit from some of the courses suggested by The Annoyed Librarian (read them and laugh, laugh hard. It's things like this that make school bearable and life livable).

Take a Seat

Tired of heading to the library for some research only to find there's no room? Take a gander at this potential solution:

This is what we do with state money.

We have fun with it.

Tonight I and four other library staff members participated in a concert at our college. We sang the Java Jive, which we have been snatching small amounts of time from our state overlords to practice over the past several weeks.

There was some struggle to come up with a name; we discussed ones like the Novel Lovers, Circulation in G, and Withdraw and Destroy (which was too metal for us). Eventually we settled on The Librettos (a libretto is the text of an opera and means "little book" in Italian . . . although I have to add that through Google I discovered the actual plural in Italian is "gli libretti." Yes, I'm a geek).

Although a libretto is probably too grandiose of an image for a bunch of librarians singing the jazzy Java Jive, it was all fun and we pulled it off surprisingly well.

The rest of the concert became progressively more and more amazing. It had Monteverdi, it had Brahms, it had us, it had a ginormous jazz band playing swinging songs, including a big band version of The Nutcracker Suite during which an alto saxophonist got up and passed out Jolly Ranchers to the audience from a Santa hat.

Before it all started I was a little resigned to be there since the original two practices had turned into five or six, and I felt like I was done. But, it turned out to be so much fun. There have probably been other singing librarians, but we had that audience snapping their fingers! Everyone did well. The evening put a smile on my face and helped me unwind after a stressful week (high workloads and term project and dentist, oh my!)

To anyone who would have wanted to be informed and/or invited, but wasn't, I do apologize. I thought it wasn't worth it to ask people to come to an hour and a half concert just to hear me sing for five minutes. My co-worker took a recording, so if you're interested in seeing it, let me know and I will see what I can do.

The only really bad news about the week is still pretty good--the library is having a book sale today and tomorrow. Your direct logical conclusion to this should be that I bought some books, and you're absolutely right. And tomorrow they're a dollar a bag . . . ! (Puts hand in mouth to stifle glee and runs away)

Love and peace! One more week gone by.

Book-sniffer . . .

. . . is apparently my new nickname.

It all started yesterday. Towards the end of the day I was knee-deep in processing work, which basically means I was putting stickers and tape on books over and over and over, until I build up a healthy thickness to the skin on my fingertips (good for playing the guitar!).

As I whisked the cover off of one new book and tossed it on the pile to be laminated, I noticed that the book released a hint of that fresh new-book-scent. Paper and vinyl.

And I lifted the book to my nose, and sniffed it. "This book smells good!" I exclaimed.

My supervisor and the systems librarian were well within earshot, and that started them on a five-minute laughing spree. "Is that the good stuff, Heather? Are you an addict?"

Fast-forward to today. I am commenting to my supervisor on how great it is to have this job, since after spending about $4,000 per month of other people's money on books, my own desire to buy books is curbed. "And," I add with a wicked grin, "of course I get to sniff all the new books when they come in."

This sets them off laughing again, and the nearby work study assistant is bewildered. While I'm trying to explain the conversation from Thursday, my supervisor chimes in with "Heather has a book fetish!"

Which of course is right when the media guy comes around the corner. He stares at me. My supervisor repeats what she said. Media guy says, "I . . . don't think I'm coming over there," shakes his head, and walks away.

When the joke has finally run its course and I've wiped the tears from my eyes, I walk by the work study on my way to see if there are any donuts left.

". . . book-sniffer!" she whispers.

I smile. Such is life in the library near the end of the week.