Thursday, February 23, 2012

How new books work

I’m going to swap out the vlogs for a bona-fide blog this week.

It’s been an interesting semester so far. I still can’t quite account for the fact that midterms are already coming next week.

Just what have I been doing? Well, stuff. Ordering books (not many movies, though, just yet -- I’m waiting for the spring DVD rush of films released during the holidays), coping with the cataloging challenges presented by some of those books, navigating the wilds of our e-books with anyone and everyone who’ll hear from me, getting our new Digital Campus service off the ground, and figuring out ways to work with the English Language Institute here on campus. I’ve also temporarily added inter-library loan processing to the list while our specialist is out for a few weeks. There’ll be another post on that new experience soon!

On an interesting note, someone who managed to walk into my office a week or two ago and noticed a new-book cart full of, well, new books, wanted to know exactly what it is that I do with them. The silly thing actually mentioned writing about it on the blog, because he thought it was always interesting to really get a look behind the scenes.

If you disagree, turn back now. Otherwise, abandon all hope.

We do the majority of our purchases through a single vendor with which we have a very good long-standing relationship. They take care of just about everything for us, from providing information about each book to load into the catalog, to putting the barcode sticker on the front of the book. They’re a major time-saver.

9 times out of 10, new books arrive in perfect shape and head straight to the shelves within a week of arriving. The rest of the time is where I come in.

Sometimes the record loaded doesn’t include enough information (a frequent-enough occurrence for less-mainstream titles like She seized the balls), or sometimes the systems involved get a little confused about what goes where. The end result is usually a record that only has the title and ISBN number (that mess of 13 digits you usually see above the barcode on a book’s back cover), or a record that’s really fine, it just needs a little extra information. Other times, the source of those records -- a national database of published items associated with the Library of Congress -- just has a weird call number we can’t use because the library that created the original record uses a different system.

In case you’re curious, the most common wrong-call-number issue we deal with involves biographies. Lots of public libraries tend to just put “B” for “biography” on the spine and alphabetize by the last name of the person the book’s about.

We always use Dewey, of course. When any of the above happens to a given book, I hunt down the information we need and add it to the record. Sometimes it’s easy -- the national database may have what I need, just in a different version of the same item -- other times it’s hard, like when there are no Dewey call numbers available for a particular book. Then I have to make it up from scratch, using a set of four ridiculously-complicated books that include instructions like:
“Add to each subdivision identified by * the numbers following the numbers following 671 in 671.2-671.8, e.g., welding aluminum 673.72252.”
Or:
“Add to 01 the numbers following 781 in 781.1-781.5, e.g., Spanish folk music for springtime 781.6261015242, rhythm in Spanish folk music for springtime 781.62610152421224.”
These are unusual cases, I admit; it isn’t often you see a sentence that says, “the numbers following the numbers following …” or call numbers that are 17 digits long focusing on a specific aspect of a specific type of folk music used during a specific time of year.

These cataloging issues are relatively rare. Out of a cart of 90 books or so, we’ll pull maybe four or five. Once or twice a year, the systems involved decide to stop speaking to each other -- maybe the Consortium just so happens to shut our system down for maintenance, or the Sun gets trigger-happy -- so we’ll get a cartload or two of books that apparently don’t exist. Fortunately, there’s some redundancy built in, like weekly updates that include downloadable packages of records that we can load manually fairly easily.

Sometimes we order books and films from Amazon because they aren’t available through our primary vendor, and those arrive completely naked. No record, no physical processing, nothing. For those, I grab the records from the same national database, check them over for accuracy, double-check the call number, and load them into the catalog. Then they’re physically processed and come back out, ready for shelving.

It probably sounds like a bunch of things that can go wrong, but truthfully, that’s the only thing I really need to do: deal with what goes wrong. It’s a testament to the services we use that it’s rare enough to leave me time for all the other things I do.

Next week, you’ll get another vlog, just as soon as I decide which “classic” to review. I also take requests; just e-mail me or post a comment!

Friday, January 20, 2012

We're back with some new books!

I’m applying the defibrillators to this blog.

It’s been over a month since the last post. There are a few reasons for this, including a two-week vacation, a new semester to prepare for, a dearth of time to read for the vlog, and the sheer number of new books coming in.

So I offer this post up as an apology for my neglectful ways. It’s a return to tradition: New book cart!

Truthfully, they aren’t all that new, and I plan to only cover the three that have stuck in my mind the most. Here we go ...

11/22/63 by Stephen King
Stephen King is one of those writers who’s so much a part of our culture that each new book he produces is an Event-with-a-capital-E, regardless of how good it may or may not be. His output took a wrong turn sometime in the mid-1990s, but has since bounced back with new creepfests like Duma Key. This upturn continues with 11/22/63, which anyone over the age of 45 and history buffs knows is the date of the Kennedy assassination.

Actually, this book is interesting in a number of ways. It’s less horrific than the work he’s known for and seems to encompass a few new themes. A GED teacher finds out that a local friend who owns a diner has discovered a portal to 1958 in his storeroom. Together, they come up with a plan to avert the Kennedy assassination. Since the other side of the portal is anchored five years before then, it’s a long plan indeed. Fascinating idea, and a terrific execution (no pun intended). Bonus points for a significant librarian character!

Erasure by Percival Everett
An under-the-surface evaluation of exploitative publishing, this novel follows the story of a fairly-successful African-American author who’s spent a few years being rejected by publisher after publisher. The dissolution of his success and its fallout, including an elderly mother who needs care that he can no longer afford, is made all the worse by a best-selling novel by an African-American woman who rides the life out of every stereotype in the book.

In response to this injustice -- why is this minstrel show so successful when his own work can’t get published? -- he writes what he thinks is a scathing parody called My Pafology, but which a publisher and, eventually, the world, think is a hugely-popular bestseller. As our main character becomes wealthier and wealthier, he struggles with the ethics involved in exploiting prejudices without seeking to break them down, and the darker side of popular entertainment. This book manages to be wickedly funny, cringe-inducing, and above all, thought-provoking.

Mrs. Nixon: A novelist imagines a life by Ann Beattie
I suppose this book should come with a disclaimer: Don’t read it if you’re a history buff. Beattie writes what amounts to a fictionalized biography, which is to say it’s not actually a biography. It’s a story about Pat Nixon and the life Beattie imagines she may have led as Richard Nixon’s wife through every scandal and misdeed that plagued his administration and marriage.

In general, Beattie doesn’t worry too much about historical accuracy; she based most of the story on already-extant published sources instead of personal papers that would have revealed insights into the First Lady's interior world. She also doesn’t worry about writing a conventional novel; the book reads like a collection of short stories starring the same main character, interspersed with Beattie’s own examination of the craft of writing itself. The result is interesting because you come away with the sense that there are really three main characters in the book: both Nixons and Beattie herself.

That about covers it for the moment! More to come next week.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Kindles and Hugo Cabret

Here I am again!

Many thanks to my colleagues for their contributions. I’m looking forward to seeing what else they write in the future.

Okay, here’s thing number 1: No post next week. Hey, it’s Thanksgiving -- a lot of people prefer to spend the holiday with friends and family and stuffing ourselves until we burst, and I’m no exception!

Thing number 2: We just got this thing.


Yes, it’s a brand-new Kindle (ad-supported, so ignore the goofy turkey). And it’s a harbinger of some changes students, faculty, and staff will see in our e-book offerings by the time Spring 2012 rolls around. We’re using it to test some new features offered by long-time vendors, as well as some things from a new vendor. We also are keeping an eye on the road ahead; often, when people run into technical difficulties on Library-related issues, we’re the ones they come to first for tech support.

Although there are plenty of times when we end up referring the person with the problem to Gallaudet Technology Services, we like to be as knowledgeable as possible about the services we offer in order to save time for the people we serve. That means having the same type of equipment our users have, so we can learn how the process works for them and figure out quick ways to solve common problems.

Anyway, we’ve been talking about e-books for months, if not years, and with good reason; we’re seeing a significant shift towards e-books and are working to find ways to continue increasing the level of service we’ve offered the Gallaudet community for a lot longer than most people reading this have been alive.

Change is good, folks! Especially this kind of change. It’s so thin and light. If I weren’t already in love with my own Kindle (work-related things are not allowed to live on it), I’d seriously consider getting one for myself. Depending, of course, on how the Kindle Fire works out. But that’s another post!

Thing number 3: A book review hasn’t been seen on this blog in many a moon. Neither has a vlog, for which I apologize.

But never fear! December will see a couple of vlogs go up (depending on how busy the last weeks of classes are and how quickly my vacation looms). In the meantime, I thought I’d do a quick review of The Invention of Hugo Cabret.

You may have heard of its author, Brian Selznick, recently. His newest book, Wonderstruck, was released recently and it features a deaf character or two (I’m mostly focused on the librarian character). Evidently, he included Carol Padden and Tom Humphries -- two prominent Deaf scholars -- in the writing process so that he could get the picture right. It’ll certainly end up in our collection!

Anyway, Hugo Cabret is a kid’s book, which I readily admit. Some of the best books in the world were written for kids. Think about that before you cock an eyebrow in my general direction.

It’s about a young boy who lives in the attic of a train station in Paris. He winds all the clocks so they keep accurate time (kind of important in a train station). Ordinarily, they don’t hire little kids to do this job, but his parents are dead and his uncle, who actually holds the job, went missing months before.

This young boy has a secret. It’s a little machine that he’s been fixing steadily for a long time, since his father died, replacing broken parts with pieces of toys that he steals from a toy store in the train station. The story starts when he gets caught, and takes you through a genuine mystery that kept me puzzled until … well.

The thing about this book is that it’s a little unconventional; it’s like a graphic novel and a regular kid’s book mashed together. You have a few pages of text, then page after page of the story told visually. It’s very arresting and keeps the story moving along incredibly well. The book itself looks huge when you first check it out -- I was expecting another Harry Potter -- but you quickly realize that it’s only that way because there’s so much illustration.

It all works together so well I can still remember very strongly specific images from the story along with the narrative details. The drawings themselves are wonderful, very moody and permeated with a strong sense of time and place.

I hate to be so vague. Suffice it to say that the toy shop owner has a very unusual secret himself, and when he catches the boy in the act of stealing the toy, it sets off a series of very surprising events that reveals a connection between both characters and culminates in an honestly pretty lovely ending.

I recommend it because it works on so many levels, is very, very well-done, and, above all, is a quick read. A movie version is coming out next week, actually, and I look forward to seeing what they did with it!