Thursday, March 12, 2020

Book Club Experience


I came to work early to attend my coworker’s book club. They were discussing The Light in the Ruins by Chris Bohjalian, and my answers might have some spoilers for the book itself (fair warning). Aside from the leader (my coworker), Linda (who was also observing), and myself, four other people attended the group. ILoveLibraries estimated about 8-16 people for book clubs, but this size group worked much better than that size would, since it gave everyone ample time to bond and share their thoughts.

Who is asking the questions, is there a leader or do people take turns?
My coworker was the conversation leader and asked most of the questions in order to get a discussion going. Some of the other attendees asked questions as they came up, but they were mostly for clarification.

If there is a leader, does the leader answer the questions as well or let the attendees respond first?
The discussion was very open, so my coworker would mostly pose questions to the group and share her impressions once the other attendees had shared theirs. It was very conversational, and she mostly let attendees get their share in. Her style reminded me of Hoffert’s discussion of the leader as a facilitator, as she guided the conversation when needed but could also step back and be a neutral presence too (which allowed the attendees to speak up).

What type of questions are asked? Any involving just yes or no answers?
Most of my coworker’s questions centered around the attendees’ perceptions of the book (i.e. “What did you think of this book?”, “Did anyone try to figure out who did it? Was anyone right?”, “This character said they had to do this, but do you think they really had to?”, etc.). A few questions (like the last two examples) were yes or no questions, but they invited elaboration. None of the questions were closed to just a yes or no answer. She also shared a few of her own perceptions of the book, which were phrased as non-question questions (i.e. “I had thought this character was going to have a bigger role in the book…” which allowed attendees to weigh in on the character).
Most of the attendees’ questions were to clarify or ask the others’ opinions (i.e. “Was the murderer demented? Why did they do it?”, “This event was during the wartime, right?”, “Why did the murderer remove their hearts?”, “Was this character the one whose father was a surgeon or was that someone else?”, etc.).

Do all attendees actively participate? Do any attendees swoop in and steal all the spotlight?
All of the attendees had a good rapport already, so they were all very enthusiastic in sharing their thoughts about the book. They also jumped to connect the book to their own experiences and really seemed to bond over that personal discussion. No one “swept in” or “stole all the spotlight”- it was a very egalitarian conversation.

What is the atmosphere of the discussion, where is it taking place at?
The discussion was held in my library’s meeting room, and everyone sat in chairs around pushed-together tables. It was a very friendly and informal atmosphere, with a smaller group than usual (four people). Everyone seemed to already know each other (although name tags were still provided), so it felt like a lot like a social meeting even though the discussion was about the book.

Are snacks or drinks provided?
The book group was called the “Coffee Talk” book discussion, so there were snacks and coffee available. My coworker said she tries to go to local businesses for snacks- today was different kinds of candies (truffles, marshmallows, etc.).

What types of books does this book club normally discuss?
This group apparently discusses a variety of books, but mostly historical fiction. They discussed trying more nonfiction at the end of the meeting, offering histories or biographies as options. The books they listed for previous meetings appear to be close to literary or relationship fiction as well (but primarily historical). It reminded me of the Vienna Court Book Club in Goldstein’s article, since everyone’s encouraged to recommend books that align with their personal preferences (33).

Saturday, March 7, 2020

Special Topics Paper- Perceived Bias

There are myriad articles discussing how to recognize one's own bias and how to try and diminish it as much as possible in daily work. However, my library (and I'm sure many other libraries in the United States) has had issues with patrons claiming that having certain materials (almost always on a diversity basis) was "pushing an agenda." This perceived bias ends up creating a lot of confusion, as neutrality can be interpreted either as "showing everything" or "avoiding controversy." I chose to explore how to define neutrality, bias, and how to navigate these perceived biases in readers' advisory.

When I looked into it, the ALA said that "showing everything" is the only way to be neutral, and librarians should actively encourage political discourse and not fear controversy. An editorial in PublicLibrariesOnline argued that libraries should be politically neutral, but defined political neutrality as showing information on all candidates and political parties. It did not go into specific politicized issues, though, which is where the issue of perceived bias lies. Another editorial in SchoolLibraryJournal argued that libraries are inherently biased, as they have clear positions on issues like diversity and inclusion that are often highly politicized. Furthermore (they argued), libraries should embrace this bias instead of creating a false neutrality and clashing with their core beliefs.

My conclusion was that this perceived bias wasn't actual bias, in fact it was the opposite. Making recommendations with a diverse set of creators, subjects, and themes reinforces the ALA's definition of neutrality. As long as the chosen titles are based on the reader's initial requests (appropriate genre, appeal terms, etc.), there is no reason to fear recommending them. When the conversation goes from representing "x" and "y" group to "I think you should represent x and y" and "I don't think you should represent y," neutrality is completely lost. You cannot disguise censorship as political neutrality.

Thursday, February 27, 2020

The Mysterious Affair at Styles- Agatha Christie

                                                                Image result for the mysterious affair at styles cover art

Author: Agatha Christie | TitleThe Mysterious Affair at Styles | Genre: Mystery
Publication Date: October 1920 | Number of Pages: 296 | Series: Hercule Poirot Mysteries (#1)
Geographical Setting: Essex, England | Time Period: Summer of 1917

Plot Summary

Arthur Hastings, wounded captain and aspiring amateur detective, is invited to Emily Inglethorp’s estate while he is on leave. After introductions (and many suspicious conversations about poisons), Mrs. Inglethorp mysteriously dies of a heart attack- or was she poisoned? Enter Hercule Poirot- an eccentric, arrogant, and brilliant ex-police detective. As Poirot digs through the last hours of Inglethorp's life, Hastings is convinced that signs point to her widower, but is he as guilty as he seems?

Characteristics for Mystery:

Private/Police/Amateur Detective- Poirot is an ex-police detective who now works as a private detective. His characterization is much more like a private detective, as he is a “self-reliant loner who operate[s] independently” (Saricks 59). Hastings is an amateur detective, which, like private detectives, “can devote all their time to a single case” (59). 

Characterization- Hastings (the protagonist) and Poirot (the detective) are both dedicated to this case "whether they're paid or not, whether they're on the job or off" (54). Saricks also adds that "Captain Hastings ably aided Hercule Poirot in a number of his investigations" (54). While Hastings is the narrator (and arguably the protagonist), he provides a balance against Poirot as a novice to his expert.

Pacing- Like Saricks warned, "the investigative details... necessarily slow the story and make all of them progress at a more leisurely pace" (57). While many clues are found, ample time is taken to deliberate over them.

Series- This is the first of 39 Poirot mysteries (according to Agatha Christie's website). While series is not unique to the mystery genre, Saricks listed it as the first thing fans expect (62).


Read-alikes:

Nonfiction-
Poisons: from Hemlock to Botox to the Killer Bean of Calabar (Peter Macinnis)
If I Die—(Michael Fleeman)
Arsenic and Clam Chowder: Murder in Gilded Age New York (James D. Livingston)

Fiction-
Unnatural Death (Dorothy L. Sayers)
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie (Alan Bradley)
Missing Joseph (Elizabeth George)
The Hunting Party (Lucy Foley)
Suddenly at His Residence (Christianna Brand)

Similar Authors: Louise Penny, M.C. Beaton, Ngiao Marsh, Emma Lathen


Tuesday, February 25, 2020

Week Seven Prompt Response


Are hoax memoirs still worth reading? Barnes and Noble seems to think they are, but I doubt that any store would say a title they carried wasn't worth it. A better question might be “what is the value of hoax memoirs?”, to which this article would probably say somewhere between $8.99 and $16.32. I'd say that these books aren't memoirs, and the second this is exposed these books lose all value. Readers can't get the same benefits that they would from nonfiction, and the books often translate badly into fiction. If a reader is looking for sensationalism, they can find bigger scandals in books intended as fiction. If they are looking for insights into history, social issues, or the human condition, they're better off with real nonfiction. 

A bigger problem with false memoirs (and what especially bothered me about this article) is that they tend to gravitate towards serious societal issues and end up negatively impacting the conversation. The books B&N listed covered (respectively) sexual abuse, addiction, prisoner abuse, addiction (again), Nazis, and racism. There is no way to lie about these topics in a way that creates progress on any of these issues. Stories like Go Ask Alice or A Million Little Pieces end up sensationalizing and/or contributing to stigmas surrounding addiction. Ones like The Awful Disclosures, Papillon, or Odd Man Out that lie about (or exaggerate) larger social issues like sexual abuse, prisoner abuse, or racism trivializes factual accounts by contributing to the fallacy that if one person is exaggerating, anyone/everyone could be. Furthermore, these appropriated narratives take focus and resources away from actual victims.

The worst part of this article, though, was the review of Helen Dale’s The Hand that Signed the Paper. This book completely fabricates a tale in which Nazis are “liberators” and the main characters happily join Nazi ranks. B&N stated explicitly that this book is completely false, and went on to say that many view this book as antisemitic (if the premise wasn’t enough of a sign). This book has no historical or factual basis and promotes the aggressors of one of the most horrendous crimes against humanity in modern history- what could possibly be the value of this book? I can’t fathom a reason why anyone would fabricate a sympathetic portrayal of Nazis (aside from propaganda), and I certainly cannot fathom how this book could have any literary or societal value.

Barnes and Noble argues that The Hand that Signed the Paper’s merits are that “if you take the book to be a complete work of fiction, it’s still a powerful historical story with some basis in reality, and a thought-provoking and often emotionally powerful read.” This personally feels like a reach, and it’s certainly filled with enough vague buzzwords to tell the reader nothing about the book’s content. This review is about as empty and purposeless as false memoirs themselves, and the looming $14.99 doesn’t make it more convincing. Furthermore, the article’s eagerness to promote a sympathetic portrayal of Nazis is a bad look for the company.  

Since so much of the hype around false memoirs is the hoax itself, we’d all be better off if we just read the exposé and left it at that.


Wednesday, February 19, 2020

Week Six Prompt Response


Just because Valentine’s Day is over doesn’t mean romance is dead. Yes, it’s time to put away Blind Date with a Book, but why not bring out our Bingo cards instead?

The romance genre has more than enough tropes and subgenres to fill out plenty of pre-made cards, and this way patrons can discover their new favorite niche. Furthermore, many of the categories can apply to books, movies, TV shows, graphic novels, etc., so it’s perfect for integrated advisory. If patrons have any trouble filling out boxes, advisory staff is there to help them out. Patrons can mark off squares as they read, watch, and listen, and when they get bingo (or blackout) they can get a prize.

Some category ideas: Scottish romance, “Duke” in the title, established relationship, love triangle, Amish romance, “foot pop” kiss, enemies to lovers, poetry, confession in the rain, forbidden love, historical romance- I could go on!

The Peach Keeper- Sarah Addison Allen

                                                              Image result for the peach keeper goodreads
Author: Sarah Addison Allen | Title: The Peach Keeper | Genre: Gentle Reads
Publication Date: March 22, 2011Number of Pages: 304
Geographical Setting: Walls of Water, North Carolina | Time Period: Modern Day

Plot Summary: Willa Jackson is trying make up for her ne’er-do-well past. Paxton Osgood is trying to leave her family’s expectations and start her own future. As the re-opening of the abandoned and possibly haunted Blue Ridge Madam looms closer, strange things are happening in Walls of Water, North Carolina. Willa and Paxton, as heirs-apparent to the Women’s Society Club, will have to rediscover their past- and perhaps find themselves along the way.

Characteristics for Gentle Reads:
Cleanliness- This book has little to no sex or profanity. There is allusion to and minor threat of violence, but no actual violence shown. Similarly, the story’s values are mostly old-fashioned.
Language/Style- Utilizing simple, homespun language, Allen creates a relaxed, domestic atmosphere. 
Tone- The book has an "optimistic, even comforting ethos" that leads to "comfort and Catharsis" (Saricks 195).
Setting- The story takes place in a small Southern town where everyone has known each other for generations.
Plot/Character- None of the stakes are especially high, which leads to a fairly leisurely-paced plot. The story's conclusion is "resolved and satisfying" and the characters end up "in balance with themselves, their lives, and each other" (Saricks 195.) The story is much more character-driven, and there is little to no "man vs. man"-style conflict. A main focus is the "character's arc of personal development," focusing on Willa and Paxton primarily and their respective love interests (Colin and Sebastian) secondarily (Saricks 194). Everyone knows each other and (mostly) gets along.


Read-alikes:
Fiction-
Big Stone Gap (Adriana Trigiani)
The Book Charmer (Karen Hawkins)
Queen Bee Goes Home Again (Haywood Smith)
Similar Authors: Lauren Groff, Fannie Flagg, Alice Hoffman, Suzanne Palmieri
Nonfiction-
For fans of Willa’s coffee shop: Top 100 Coffee Recipes: a Cookbook for Coffee Lovers (Mary Vard)
For fans of the Women’s Society Club: The Red Hat Society (Sue Ellen Cooper)
For fans of the Peach Tree itself: Eat Your Yard! (Nan K. Chase)

Saturday, February 15, 2020

Week Five Prompt Response


1) Different publications review different types of books and they allow different types of conversations. For example, Booklist will not publish negative reviews, while, as you have all seen, Kirkus has no problems with it. Ebook only books, which are increasingly popular (especially in the romance genre) see little to no reviews in professional publications unless they have a big name author, and then still it's usually only RT Reviews (formally Romantic Times) or other genre heavy publications. How does this affect collection development?
Every source having different rules and procedures is bound to make the collection development process disorienting. It’s hard to compare or get a comprehensive sense of a title with uneven coverage. It’s also hard to get a good sense of a title with only one review source as well, so it’s not exactly like acquisitions staff can avoid this issue. The ability to track down an even selection of titles with consistent reviews seems to take a great deal of effort and critical thought, and anything less will make a collection suffer (which seems incredibly unfair to acquisitions staff, the library, and its patrons).
Issues of omission, such as negative reviews with Booklist or ebook only titles, make it almost impossible to judge (let alone select) something for a collection. Reviews are supposed to be a tool to help inform readers about what’s out there (and whether it’s worth exploring), but how can they do that if they deliberately leave titles out? It’s almost impossible to collect everything (especially considering the size of the Internet), but purposeful omission will keep acquisition staff from making informed decisions.

2) Look over the [The Billionaire’s First Christmas] reviews - do you feel they are both reliable? How likely would you be to buy this book for your library?
Even though the reviews don’t seem to be very professional, I think that they give a good insight into what patrons may say about the book itself. I would want to look at more reviews to get a better sense of the book and stronger reliability, especially since there’s no guarantee that the two reviews are impartial (for example, the Amazon review could have been from a friend of the author). Since the book is free from Amazon, it wouldn’t be any cost to acquire. However, there seem to be many books similar to this, so it may set a precedent to get any book just because it’s free. Unless there is a known patron demand for this title or author, I would most likely skip this title.

3) How do the reviews make you feel about the possibility of adding Angela's Ashes to your collection?
The breadth of reviews speak to the title’s prestige more than the content. Sad and hopeful memoirs are a huge genre, and many people have strong connections to their content. However, I personally find it hard to distinguish one from the other based on pure summary. The fact that these four major reviewers were uniformly impressed (“extraordinary work in every way,” “a wonderful book; strongly recommended,” “expect demand…from word of mouth thereafter,” “a vivid, wonderfully readable memoir”) speaks strongly to the book’s virtues.

Frankly, even mixed reviews would have made me consider adding it to the collection (possibly sparking a conversation among patrons to the title’s merits). Since everyone seems to agree that this book is truly exceptional (and apparently also quite buzz-worthy), I wouldn’t hesitate to add it to the collection.


4) Do you think it’s fair that one type of book is reviewed to death and other types of books get little to no coverage? How does this affect a library’s collection? 

This is unfair to a degree. While books should have a fair chance at review, there are limited resources with which to do this. This is especially true with the rise in self-publishing- how can a source identify, let alone read and review, thousands of titles scattered across the internet? Many good (or even excellent) titles are definitely being ignored, and there should be a stronger effort to find, review, and acquire them. At a certain point, though, there may be a risk of information overload.

I am unsure how reader/patron interest (or potential interest) plays a role in what does or doesn’t get reviewed. If selection is skewed towards what people are more likely to read, this practice could be slightly (but only slightly) justifiable. At what point would that become a self-fulfilling prophecy, though?

This practice definitely hinders a library’s collection, as they are bound to miss out on great but overlooked titles. Depending on the library’s acquisitions budget, though, a smaller selection from which to choose may be a silver lining.


5) How do you feel about review sources that won't print negative content? Do you think that's appropriate?

Refusing to print negative content is a complicated but ultimately negative practice. It definitely becomes an issue if the source reviews all books. This can easily lead to misleading false praise. One could argue that if they only print reviews of “good” books, it allows the reader to only focus on positive titles and (especially in a library sense) know what to select more efficiently.

However, it also keeps the reader from being able to determine a title’s merits for themselves. For example, Kirkus’s review for Blood Crime outlined how ridiculous the book seemed, but many readers purposefully seek out “ridiculous” books for a light, fun read. At a certain point it just becomes self-censorship. Readers can always check another source, but at this point why not just go to the other source instead?

I definitely understand the pressure to not alienate anyone with negative reviews, but if there is a reasonable opportunity to give a full spectrum of reviews, everyone will benefit.


6) How do you feel about reviews for personal reading, and what are some of your favorite review sources?
(I do not have any acquisitions responsibilities at my workplace)
I almost never read reviews for personal reading. I try to know as little as possible about a title going in, mostly because I find that reviews (or even back-of-the-book synopses) skew my perception of the book. I end up going in with expectations that are completely different from what the book actually delivers and it throws me off mid-read. Everyone reads differently, though, and I can definitely see why other people may want to read reviews before diving into a new book.
I do like informal reviews (mostly word of mouth). The most formal review source I check is Goodreads, although I don’t use it very much. Friends, coworkers, patrons, and (occasionally) Tumblr make up most of my unofficial review sources.