I recently decided to sign the library up for a Bookmooch account, mostly as a resource for getting rid of all the random books lying around my office that were either a) weeded from the collection for being seriously out of date, or b) donated to the library, often in hopes of recieving a positive review in one of our publications, but completely off topic.
So far, people have been snatching these books up left and right. I only started listing things last Thursday, and I've already sent out 12 books, and I have another 4 waiting for processing.
With all the points my donations have been racking up, I decided I'd look into spending them on books for the library. (Basically, Bookmooch works like this: a moocher lists books he/she has and is willing to give away. People request titles. The moocher gets a point for every title sent out, and 1/10 of a point for every title listed, whether it's mooched or not. Those points can then be used to "mooch" books from other members, usually at one point per book.)
I've gotten so excited doing this, that I not only filled in a couple of holes in our collection, but accidentally got carried away, and now find myself with two copies of the 2008 Handbook of U.S. Labor Statistics, a volume we were missing from our governmnet documents collection.
Oh well, I guess I can now list the second copy (when I recieve it; so far, only one has arrived) and hopefully get myself another 1.1 points!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Book covers
I'm going through the books in the the stacks right now and checking the physical volumes against the catalog record. This project is tedious and dull, and not terribly efficient, but, I've come to realize, is also quite neccessary for a number of reasons.
The most obvious being that I've discovered a number of missing books this way. I have yet to find any of the missing books, but the fact that I know they're missing, and am able to put together a proper report, is very useful.
I've also come across a number of books that are on the shelf, and seem to be processed, but don't show up in the catalog. I can now go through and add them to the catalog, or in some cases, find the record and fix the mistake that's keeping it from showing up when someone searches for the book.
This search has also turned up innumerable records that need tweaking: an author is listed as an editor in the catalog, or vice versa ; a word in the title is spelled wrong ; a date is listed incorrectly. In general, I'm finding a lot of little nit-picky details that need to be updated. Which is good, if annoying.
But the big reason that this project, boring and ridiculously huge as it is, may turn out to be useful, is the subsequent discovery of all the upside-down book covers. Seriouly, it seems like nearly a third of all the books I look at have their covers on upside down. On some, this isn't obvious until I open the book. On others, it's immediately obvious that the call number label was placed on the wrong end of the spine. I guess it's not a huge deal that the covers are upside-down, but it's one of those little things that drives me crazy, and keeps the library from looking professional and well run. Not to mention, there's a certain creep-factor in rows of books with upside-down covers.
For the most part this problem is easily fixed. I roll my eyes, gently lift the tape that holds the cover down, flip things around, and we're all set. But on some, I have to pull out the exacto knife.
Should I worry about the amount of fun I have wielding this tool?
The most obvious being that I've discovered a number of missing books this way. I have yet to find any of the missing books, but the fact that I know they're missing, and am able to put together a proper report, is very useful.
I've also come across a number of books that are on the shelf, and seem to be processed, but don't show up in the catalog. I can now go through and add them to the catalog, or in some cases, find the record and fix the mistake that's keeping it from showing up when someone searches for the book.
This search has also turned up innumerable records that need tweaking: an author is listed as an editor in the catalog, or vice versa ; a word in the title is spelled wrong ; a date is listed incorrectly. In general, I'm finding a lot of little nit-picky details that need to be updated. Which is good, if annoying.
But the big reason that this project, boring and ridiculously huge as it is, may turn out to be useful, is the subsequent discovery of all the upside-down book covers. Seriouly, it seems like nearly a third of all the books I look at have their covers on upside down. On some, this isn't obvious until I open the book. On others, it's immediately obvious that the call number label was placed on the wrong end of the spine. I guess it's not a huge deal that the covers are upside-down, but it's one of those little things that drives me crazy, and keeps the library from looking professional and well run. Not to mention, there's a certain creep-factor in rows of books with upside-down covers.
For the most part this problem is easily fixed. I roll my eyes, gently lift the tape that holds the cover down, flip things around, and we're all set. But on some, I have to pull out the exacto knife.
Should I worry about the amount of fun I have wielding this tool?
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Momentary freak-out
I just got my budget.
I have $24,000 annually for materials.
I can only afford one database. And it won't be a very good one.
How the **** is this going to work?
I have $24,000 annually for materials.
I can only afford one database. And it won't be a very good one.
How the **** is this going to work?
It's the little things
The simplest things get the biggest responses in my new job.
A couple of weeks ago, after straightening out the catalog problems, I finally had the opportunity to catalog all the new books that had been piling up in my office. Since the bookshelves are on the other side of the library from the researchers' offices, they really only get used when someone is looking for a specific title. Which means there's not a lot of browsing going on. So, in an effort to increase ther browsability of the collection, I decided to shelve the new books that I had just cataloged seperately, on some empy, out-facing shelves near the researchers' offices and cubicles. It was a hit.
Since then, I've had people come up and tell me how much they like that feature. One guy told me it gave the books a kind of "buzz." And today, weeks after the initial shelving, the publications editor came to my office to tell me that she had just found the "New Book" section and that she was blown away by how inviting it was.
I'm blown away by how impressed everyone is. I thought nothing of making this new section, and didn't expect much response, just hopefully a slight increase in book circulation. Just goes to show how much of a difference it makes to put something right in people's way!
A couple of weeks ago, after straightening out the catalog problems, I finally had the opportunity to catalog all the new books that had been piling up in my office. Since the bookshelves are on the other side of the library from the researchers' offices, they really only get used when someone is looking for a specific title. Which means there's not a lot of browsing going on. So, in an effort to increase ther browsability of the collection, I decided to shelve the new books that I had just cataloged seperately, on some empy, out-facing shelves near the researchers' offices and cubicles. It was a hit.
Since then, I've had people come up and tell me how much they like that feature. One guy told me it gave the books a kind of "buzz." And today, weeks after the initial shelving, the publications editor came to my office to tell me that she had just found the "New Book" section and that she was blown away by how inviting it was.
I'm blown away by how impressed everyone is. I thought nothing of making this new section, and didn't expect much response, just hopefully a slight increase in book circulation. Just goes to show how much of a difference it makes to put something right in people's way!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
This whole "solo" thing is exhausting
It's not necessarily that my workload is unmanageable. In fact, with hardly any patron interaction (a very sad thing for me) and none of the drama of working in a large department, I have ample time to get my work done. The thing that's wearing me out is the lack of micro-managing. Before I started library school, I was in a job with a boss who spent all her time making lists of things she wanted me to do. Then in public libraries, projects are often just ways to fill your time between reference questions and programs. Not that projects aren't important, but they're always second priority after immediate patron needs, which means the patrons pretty much run your schedule.
In my current job, there's nobody telling me what to do and very few people asking for my help. Which means, if I do something stupid, like decide to check the catalog records of every single book on the shelf, there's no one to distract me with something new and quick and diverting. It's just me and the books. Which is appealing in a purely olefactory sense, but so very tedious.
Don't get me wrong, a very large part of me is enjoying being, in a sense, my own boss, and I like the fact that I get to decide how to arrange the magazines (you would have thought they would be alphabetical already) and which books to buy. But another part of me, probably the part that spent 7 years in post-secondary education, really wants someone to tell me what to do!
In my current job, there's nobody telling me what to do and very few people asking for my help. Which means, if I do something stupid, like decide to check the catalog records of every single book on the shelf, there's no one to distract me with something new and quick and diverting. It's just me and the books. Which is appealing in a purely olefactory sense, but so very tedious.
Don't get me wrong, a very large part of me is enjoying being, in a sense, my own boss, and I like the fact that I get to decide how to arrange the magazines (you would have thought they would be alphabetical already) and which books to buy. But another part of me, probably the part that spent 7 years in post-secondary education, really wants someone to tell me what to do!
Monday, August 17, 2009
Is it 1956?
Monday morning always brings a really big stack of mail for the library. Today's stack included the new issue of Library Journal, which means I'll take 20 minutes or so this afternoon to browse it in search of ideas and good books to buy. Always a nice little break, especially from my current project which involves searching for missing books and updating catalog records. Super fun. In addition to my LJ, the mail also included the usual stack of magazines to be checked in and renewal reminders for subscriptions.
One of these reminders contained, like so many others lately, a long letter explaing why renewing my subscription will enhance the quality of life for all Americans. As usual, it was a bit hyperbolic. This is nothing strange. I generally skim these, roll my eyes once or twice, and send the invoice to the comptroller to be paid. However, this reminder, for a newletter called America's Future (a lofty title) caused me a second glance. What stood out from this renewal notice was a bullet point that read (in part): "I want America's Future to continue its newsletter and radio broadcasts on national security...threats from the United Nations treaties and Communist China.
Apparently, the dirty reds are still out to get us.
One of these reminders contained, like so many others lately, a long letter explaing why renewing my subscription will enhance the quality of life for all Americans. As usual, it was a bit hyperbolic. This is nothing strange. I generally skim these, roll my eyes once or twice, and send the invoice to the comptroller to be paid. However, this reminder, for a newletter called America's Future (a lofty title) caused me a second glance. What stood out from this renewal notice was a bullet point that read (in part): "I want America's Future to continue its newsletter and radio broadcasts on national security...threats from the United Nations treaties and Communist China.
Apparently, the dirty reds are still out to get us.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
I've been on hold for two days!
On Tuesday afternoon, I stupidly forgot to log off the administration page for the catalog. We only allow one person to be logged in at a time. For some reason, the system doesn't automatically log a user off after, say, twelve hours of inactivity. So I've been unable to log in to the catalog (a task I've only recently been able to accomplish at all!) since Wednesday morning.
I've emailed the company, I've looked for help from teh website, and I've waited on hold with tech support for two days now. Two days of calling and sitting on hold for fifteen minutes until they tell me to leave a message or hang up.
So they'll automatically log me out of their hold system at tech support after fifteen minutes, but they don't think to automatically log me out of the catalogafter 36 hours?!
I've emailed the company, I've looked for help from teh website, and I've waited on hold with tech support for two days now. Two days of calling and sitting on hold for fifteen minutes until they tell me to leave a message or hang up.
So they'll automatically log me out of their hold system at tech support after fifteen minutes, but they don't think to automatically log me out of the catalogafter 36 hours?!
Friday, August 7, 2009
Yay, I have a saint!
Apparently document librarians (of which I guess I pretty much am now) have their own saint! St. Wapniacl was aparently a very early version of a document librarian, in the same vein as Malachi from The Name of the Rose, only not as creepy or evil. The story found in the link is ridiculous and silly in a way that only an online saint's life can be.
I wonder if I can get a St. Wapniacl (any thoughts on how to pronounce that?) icon for my office...
I wonder if I can get a St. Wapniacl (any thoughts on how to pronounce that?) icon for my office...
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Monitoring what we read
So this whole Amazon 1984 scandal is really pissing me off, but it's also giving a little bit of joy to that secret place inside me that wants to say "I told you so!"
A recent article in The New Yorker compared the Kindle to reading a real book and reading a book on an IPhone. Despite decding that the IPhone offered a better experience than the clunky, retro, gray-toned Kindle, and the real thing, the paper and ink book, was the best of all possible worlds, the author still gave grudging props to Kindle, saying that once he got caught up in the reading experience, he stopped noticing the issues with the device.
This article kind of annoyed me, because I dind't want him to like the Kindle. I like real books. I like the way they feel and smell, and how, when you're done reading, you leave little bits of yourself there. Literally. I mean, I like the idea that flakes of skin from my fingers and hairs, and crumbs from the lunch I was eating while reading end up ground into the paper. The Kindle offers none of this. (I was also annoyed because he quoted lots of Kindle lovers who based their admiration of the device in the fact that they found library's gross.)
But far more disturbing than the lack of DNA that goes into the reading proccess on the Kindle is the feeling that Amazon knows what you're reading. They already seem to know an awful lot about me, and their recommendations are sometimes just a little too close to the mark. I'm not a conspiracy nut, so I usually don't freak out that this corporation has such insider knowledge of me. After all, what could the knowledge that I like books about France, Arthurian Literature, and post-punk, non-emo music really get them? I doubt they even really care.
But if I got a Kindle, I think I would feel like they were actually watching me read, in a sense, and then I could never fully delight in the experience. Talk about 1984, right? I know I'm not the first one to say this, but it does feel like these devices, under the blanket of DRM, are slowly pulling away one of the foundations of a free society: the right to read what we want without judgment.
So this issue with George Orwell only solidifies the fact that I will not be getting a Kindle any time soon. I'd electrocute myself with it the first time I tried to read in the pool or the bath, anyway.
A recent article in The New Yorker compared the Kindle to reading a real book and reading a book on an IPhone. Despite decding that the IPhone offered a better experience than the clunky, retro, gray-toned Kindle, and the real thing, the paper and ink book, was the best of all possible worlds, the author still gave grudging props to Kindle, saying that once he got caught up in the reading experience, he stopped noticing the issues with the device.
This article kind of annoyed me, because I dind't want him to like the Kindle. I like real books. I like the way they feel and smell, and how, when you're done reading, you leave little bits of yourself there. Literally. I mean, I like the idea that flakes of skin from my fingers and hairs, and crumbs from the lunch I was eating while reading end up ground into the paper. The Kindle offers none of this. (I was also annoyed because he quoted lots of Kindle lovers who based their admiration of the device in the fact that they found library's gross.)
But far more disturbing than the lack of DNA that goes into the reading proccess on the Kindle is the feeling that Amazon knows what you're reading. They already seem to know an awful lot about me, and their recommendations are sometimes just a little too close to the mark. I'm not a conspiracy nut, so I usually don't freak out that this corporation has such insider knowledge of me. After all, what could the knowledge that I like books about France, Arthurian Literature, and post-punk, non-emo music really get them? I doubt they even really care.
But if I got a Kindle, I think I would feel like they were actually watching me read, in a sense, and then I could never fully delight in the experience. Talk about 1984, right? I know I'm not the first one to say this, but it does feel like these devices, under the blanket of DRM, are slowly pulling away one of the foundations of a free society: the right to read what we want without judgment.
So this issue with George Orwell only solidifies the fact that I will not be getting a Kindle any time soon. I'd electrocute myself with it the first time I tried to read in the pool or the bath, anyway.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Arrrgh!
The OPAC is down. Do I even need to explain how much that sucks?
I haven't been able to log into the ILS since I started this job. That means no cataloging, no statistical reports, nothing. I finally tracked down the passwords (which the former librarian did not think to leave anywhere for me to find) and logged in. Life was beautiful.
The next day, I go to use my shiny new password, and get an error message: Query error: Cannot create temporary storage file for query sets. Contact the webmaster for this site.
The "webmaster" is the IT director. So I tell him. He has no idea what to do about it. So I call the vendor. They're all very nice, but can't help me. They send me to tech support. I end up talking to a man who seems to think that the lower the volume of his voice, the happier everyone will be. I'm pressing the phone to my hear, concentrating like mad to catch what he says, hoping the lawn mower doesn't drive by. But all this effort comes to naught. Guess why? Because he can't do squat for me!
This started last Wednesday. It's been almost a week of dealing with it. I just got off the phone with the ILS-whisperer and am no closer to solving the problem, but a heck of a lot closer to a coronary.
In today's call, not only was he as quiet as it is possible to be, he also did his darndest to make me feel like an idiot. He asked me what version of the ILS we were running. I checked. He asked me where I got that information. I told him. He said that wasn't the correct place to look. He made me check somewhere else. It was the same freaking version number!
He made me repeat the problem four times, despite the fact that I told him all about it last week, over the phone and in an email; the IT director told him all about it last week; I left him a message Friday, in which I included details; and I emailed him yesterday, explaining the problem.
He listened to me explain the issue four times today, then asked me "but the OPAC's running fine, right?"
NO!
The OPAC is NOT running fine. THAT"S THE PROBLEM!
So the situation stands thusly:
I haven't been able to log into the ILS since I started this job. That means no cataloging, no statistical reports, nothing. I finally tracked down the passwords (which the former librarian did not think to leave anywhere for me to find) and logged in. Life was beautiful.
The next day, I go to use my shiny new password, and get an error message: Query error: Cannot create temporary storage file for query sets. Contact the webmaster for this site.
The "webmaster" is the IT director. So I tell him. He has no idea what to do about it. So I call the vendor. They're all very nice, but can't help me. They send me to tech support. I end up talking to a man who seems to think that the lower the volume of his voice, the happier everyone will be. I'm pressing the phone to my hear, concentrating like mad to catch what he says, hoping the lawn mower doesn't drive by. But all this effort comes to naught. Guess why? Because he can't do squat for me!
This started last Wednesday. It's been almost a week of dealing with it. I just got off the phone with the ILS-whisperer and am no closer to solving the problem, but a heck of a lot closer to a coronary.
In today's call, not only was he as quiet as it is possible to be, he also did his darndest to make me feel like an idiot. He asked me what version of the ILS we were running. I checked. He asked me where I got that information. I told him. He said that wasn't the correct place to look. He made me check somewhere else. It was the same freaking version number!
He made me repeat the problem four times, despite the fact that I told him all about it last week, over the phone and in an email; the IT director told him all about it last week; I left him a message Friday, in which I included details; and I emailed him yesterday, explaining the problem.
He listened to me explain the issue four times today, then asked me "but the OPAC's running fine, right?"
NO!
The OPAC is NOT running fine. THAT"S THE PROBLEM!
So the situation stands thusly:
- I can't catalog the ever growing stack of books on my desk
- I can't run a report of the books we are SUPPOSED to have on the shelf, which means I can't do the in-depth shelf read I've been planning to ensure that everything is there and track down those titles that I can't find
- My user's can't search for books
- and I can't seem to get anyone who actually HAS the power to help me to care!
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