Librations

I’m just shy of six months into my job as the Art & Architecture Librarian here at CU-Boulder, and I’m learning a lot–about my job, the organization I work for, the students and faculty I serve, and so much more.

Several weeks ago, I helped a student at the reference desk with a particularly difficult question. We started chatting, and she identified herself as a McNair Scholar. She asked if the library had a liaison to the McNair program, and I offered to find out for her. Long story short, I am now the liaison to the McNair program.

This brief story illustrates an important lesson: If you express interest in something, there’s a strong chance you’ll be asked to be in charge of it.

As a new librarian, how can you use this organizational quirk to your advantage? Well, if you see something that you think needs to be changed, or might just need the attention of a dedicated individual to make it work better, don’t be afraid to speak up. Make sure folks around you (boss, colleagues, etc.) know what you’re truly passionate about. And don’t forget to be strategic about your interests! As a tenure-track librarian here at CU-Boulder, a focus of my developing research agenda has been working with underrepresented students. Serving as the liaison to the McNair program helps me unite the “librarianship” and “research” pieces of my librarianship/research/service puzzle.

So what do YOU want to be in charge of?  :)

Five books, five panelists, one great title fight. – Canada Reads 2010 website

One of my favorite recent discoveries is the annual, weeklong Canadian radio program (or programme, if you’d prefer) Canada Reads. It’s a national book club of sorts that broadcasts in early March (8th – 12th). Each year five notable Canadians serve as panelists and champion one book by a Canadian author that they believe all of Canada should read. Those chosen as panelists are most often associated with some aspect of the arts or media. They’re typically journalists, actors, authors, or musicians but not always. This year a celebrated Olympic athlete is joining the discussion. After the year’s titles are announced in December, several months of discussion about the books follow on the CBC’s sponsored blog and podcasts, as well as on independent blogs. Then, in that thrilling week of March, the panelists verbally duke it out to determine which one book will be selected as the year’s winner. Every day a book is eliminated until just one remains.

Basically, it’s a book nerd’s fantasy.

I discovered Canada Reads this past summer when I learned that one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Sarah Slean, had been a panelist last year. Lucky for me, the podcasts of the show are still available through iTunes. I downloaded them and then spent the better part of a night listening to the drama unfold. I was smitten.

As I listened, I asked myself: “Why doesn’t the United States do something like this?” I still haven’t found a satisfactory answer. I don’t think it’s because our country’s too large or too diverse. You’d be hard pressed to find a country larger or more diverse (geographically and culturally) than Canada. And I don’t think it’s because no one reads anymore. I suppose it could be because I live in a large university town, but I see people reading everywhere I go. The impact of Nancy Pearl’s Book Lust books and Oprah’s Book Club (you knew I had to mention it) on book sales proves that Americans are always on the lookout for good reads. The success of NPR shows like “This American Life,” “Fresh Air,” and “A Prairie Home Companion” demonstrate that Americans still listen to radio programs (or their podcast equivalents) and still have time in their lives for storytelling and cultural criticism. Furthermore, the popularity of local citywide “reads” and the large number of book clubs suggests that there might be an audience for a national forum.

So, why isn’t there an America Reads? I’d be interested in your thoughts.

It’s fun to imagine the possibilities if there were an America Reads. Just think of the potential: championing American authors, boosting book sales, fostering pride in American culture, and (of the most interest to us here at Librations) creating an opportunity for libraries to connect with their communities. In my dream world, libraries would provide a large number of the selected books, sponsor events and book groups, and might even be inspired to create their own, local book contests. It’d be a great way to bring people together and a positive force during a difficult time like this.

What book(s) would you choose if you were a panelist? It’s a fun question to ponder. Ever since I listened to last year’s Canada Reads, I’ve been mentally shadow boxing with books I encounter.

Choosing a book (just one book!) to represent is not easy. Apart from the potential clash of personal versus public tastes, the problem is that programs like Canada Reads can serve two very different functions. A national campaign can either rescue worthy books from obscurity or allow the nation the opportunity to re-visit old favorites. Ultimately it’s up to the individual panelist to decide which tactic he or she wants to take. In past years, lesser known books and out-of-print titles have benefited from their inclusion in the program. King Leary, the late Paul Quarrington’s 1987 novel, was out of print until Dave Bidini selected it for Canada Reads 2008. In the greatest underdog story yet on the program, King Leary not only was re-released in print but ended up winning the year’s main prize.

The Canada Reads 2010 choices have drawn heavy criticism because they are, for the most part, contemporary classics. It’s not that the books aren’t well respected, just that, as Quill & Quire stated in a recent article, the list is “heavy on household names or books that have already had their share of media attention.” Judging from articles and blog posts written about Canada Reads 2010, many Canadians — readers and literary critics alike — are disappointed that this year’s list of selections doesn’t include any surprises. Blogger Kerry Clare, of Pickle Me This, wrote, “What I wanted was what I found from (most of) the 2009 lineup – book recommendations out of nowhere, books I’d never pick up otherwise, that challenge my sensibilities, and that I might just fall in love with.” Her disappointment led to the creation of her own reading contest, called Canada Reads Independently, which will roughly imitate Canada Reads 2010’s timeline. The National Post is also sponsoring an alternative reading contest, called Canada Also Reads, through their column “The Afterword.” [Update 2/18: The Keepin' It Real Book Club launched their own spin-off today: Civilians Read. The same five Canada Reads 2010 books will be championed but this time by "civilians" who hope to "say some smart things, spark some interesting discussion, and determine how weighty the panelist-X factor is."]

I love this turn of events, although it serves to make me even more jealous. I fantasize about just one reading contest and these people are creating their own versions because they want to improve on an already great idea. The spunk and enthusiasm delights me. In my mind, it proves the value of a program like Canada Reads. It’s inspired Canadian citizens to create new ways to share books they love and support the nation’s authors. What a cool phenomenon.

I had not read any of the Canada Reads 2010 titles prior to their selection so I’ve been having fun working through them over the past two months. I’ve read three so far and have confidence that I’ll finish before the March 8th deadline. I’ve listed this year’s titles for you, in case you want to read along too. If you’re interested in Canada Reads, make sure to check out the show’s website, where you’ll find author and panelist interviews, the official blog, book excerpts, and more.

Canada Reads 2010 Selections:

Good to a Fault by Marina Endicott published by Freehand Books
Defended by Simi Sara

Nikolski by Nicolas Dickner, translated by Lazer Lederhendler published by Vintage/Random House of Canada
Defended by Michel Vézina

Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture by Douglas Coupland published by St. Martin’s Press/H. B. Fenn and Company
Defended by Roland Pemberton aka Cadence Weapon

The Jade Peony by Wayson Choy published by Douglas & McIntyre
Defended by Samantha Nutt

Fall on Your Knees by Ann-Marie MacDonald published by Vintage/Random House of Canada
Defended by Perdita Felicien

Here at the University of Colorado-Boulder, we recently completed a partial renovation of our main library.  We added a technology-equipped learning commons (open 24/5!), a coffee shop (serving high-quality caffeine from local business The Laughing Goat), several new instructional spaces, a more welcoming reference area, and much more (read all about it here).

We anticipated that the new spaces would be popular with students, but the response has been even better than we expected.  The library is busier than anyone has ever seen it (especially for this early in the term), and the feedback has been overwhelmingly positive.

But in the midst of our excitement, there is concern.  If the library is full of students and faculty now, what will it look like during midterms and finals?  Will we be able to handle the increased traffic?  Will quality of service suffer?  And how do we spin all of this to our advantage (convincing administration that we need more space, funds, staff, and resources)?  It’s really the kind of problem you wish for, which has caught us a bit off guard.

Is your organization facing a similar challenge?  Maybe you’ve recently introduced a new collection or service, and are overwhelmed by the response you’ve received.  I’m interested in hearing other stories about what to do when things go well, rather than just when they flop.

[This post originally appeared on ArLiSNAP.org]

I am starting my second (and final) year at SI this week and I am trying to prepare for the incoming deluge of information and communications by updating my various connecting portals to my classmates, my employers, and the world in general. Obviously connectivity depends on personal preferences but I find it amazing that we all have so many identities online these days, more and more reflecting portals for our “real” personalit(ies) (Skype, LinkedIn, Facebook) but just as many for the other identities we would like to hold true as parts of ourselves. I am now connected on Skype (I just got my first camera for my computer. It is an old skool eyeball and I am thinking of adding antennae or something to give it a personality.) so I can talk to my niece in Colorado. I am now connected on LinkedIn so I can attract potential employers with my stunning resume and associated activities. I am about to buy a new cell phone and just upgraded my text plan so I can be accessible anywhere (pretty much. I still won’t do the iphone or blackberry thing) to my employers and classmates. I am entrenched in Facebook. I forget about my MySpace profile but that’s still out there too… wasting away with past updates and song preferences.

And today I tried to become a member of ALA and PLA. I got about halfway through the form and their website went down. Again and again. Why is it that the national organization for those who network and connect people to information and people to people keeps repeatedly discouraging me from joining their throngs of committees, round tables, organizations, and initiatives through poorly managed web content? If I continue to have trouble with this my ADD-attuned fingers may just forget about one of the potentially most important connecting opportunities I need to take advantage of me. It’s what happened last year at this time. I need to make amends but I may end up hanging out on Skype instead. Or start making YouTube videos for my own amusement. Really, I think I just need a beer with friends.

So: ALA and PLA members–was it hard for you to sign up? Has it been worth it to be part of the organization? Do you use Skype? What’s it like?

I’ve been a Librations contributor in the nominal sense for a month or so now, so I figured it was about time for me to actually step up and contribute. Oh sure, I could explain the delay away by saying that this is a ridiculously busy time for me at work (almost true) and in my personal life (actually true). And then, of course, I spent several weeks fussing about what I was going to write, and by the time I had finally drafted something that I was happy with, Librations went down for two weeks. Such is my life.

But the real cause of my initial fussing is that I was a little intimidated by kdt’s invitation. This is a blog for librarians, for crying out loud! Yeah, I spent five years of my life working in two different libraries (Oberlin College and Boulder Public). But that whole time, I was plotting and scheming and going to school and doing anything I could to get out of libraries and into publishing. (Not that I have anything against libraries. I love libraries. I just didn’t want to work in a library. But I’ll save that explanation for another post.)

So here’s my story: I’m not a librarian. I don’t even want to be a librarian. I’m an acquisitions editor in a publishing company. That means that I don’t really do much pen-on-paper editing (don’t worry, I won’t be all nitpicky about your grammar or spelling). I’m one of the people responsible for deciding what books get published. And I know what benefits I get from talking to librarians (anyone want to tell me what type of books you need or want for your library or yourself in history, geography, and international studies?), but I’ve been struggling with what kind of information you’d like to hear from me. So rather than struggle with that any longer, I’m just going to ask you: What kind of things do you want to know about publishing or content-related issues? Or, since this is the internet’s first library/bar, about my other area of expertise, Colorado microbrews? (Hint: pretty much everything from Left Hand Brewery is fantastic. But right now, I’m really into Avery’s Karma Ale. Just right with Pad Thai.)

I’m really interested in developing better relationships between publishers and librarians. If I publish books that you want, we both win. So I’d like to hear your questions and comments so I know what type of things you want to know from me. I’m not going to be intimidated by all you librarians anymore. I’m ready.

ps: I plan on tagging all my entries Colorado. Take that, Michigan!

I recently finished a housing search in Boulder, Colorado.  After seeing nearly a dozen apartments, I ended up with a fabulous place to live.  But along the way, I also saw the most frightening rental property I have ever seen.  Let’s call it “the cottage.”

The cottage was advertised in the local paper with very little detail–just a price, a neighborhood, and a phone number.  The price and location matched what I was looking for, so I called the owner to find out more about the property.  He described it as a “rustic” one bedroom, single-family home, and warned that a tenant had just moved out, so it probably needed a good cleaning before anyone else could move in.  I made an appointment to see it later that morning.  I had a very what-the-hell attitude since it was the first day of my housing search, and I figured that it couldn’t hurt to just take a look.  It wouldn’t waste much time, and I had other apartments to look at later in that same neighborhood.

I arrived at the cottage to find that it was an in-law building built behind another home and accessible only from an alley, not the street on which its address implied it sat.  It was surrounded by overflowing dumpsters and recycling bins.  The entire house was no more than 250 square feet, and it smelled of dead mice and mold.  It appeared (and smelled!) as if it had been vacant for some time.  There were no interior walls, and the ceilings were only about six feet high.  There were holes and cracks in the wood flooring that appeared to be open to a crawl space below.  There was no overhead lighting.  A previous tenant had been heating the building with a space heater.  The refrigerator was mid-1950s vintage–and not in a good way.  I’ll spare you a description of the bathroom.

Basically, this place was a nightmare.  The punchline to this story?  The landlord wanted $900 a month plus utilities.

So why am I posting this on Librations?  What does it have to do with libraries, or beer for that matter?  First, I really wanted a drink after seeing this place.  And second, this is a great example of how I could have applied my super-librarian powers of information literacy skillz to a real-life situation.

Even though the cottage was advertised in an actual newspaper (this wasn’t some shady Craigslist posting), and the owner paid money (albeit a small amount) for the ad, this doesn’t mean that any of the implied authority that comes with such a source should be automatically associated with the product being advertised.  As librarians, we deal with this sort of thing all the time.  Venerated publishers can do sleazy things (like Elsevier publishing fake journals to sell pharmaceuticals).  And Wikipedia (the anti-Elsevier?) has a large number of well written, clearly cited, and authoritative articles, particularly on topics related to popular culture and technology.

The owner’s use of the term “rustic” probably should have set off alarm bells in my head.  In a similar vein, pseudo-research about controversial topics can often be spotted based on the language and style used to discuss an issue.

And finally, sometimes you just have to dive into something to figure out if its credible, relevant to your research, and appropriate for the task at hand.  Man cannot survive on abstracts alone.  It was in the owner’s interest not to tell me too much about the cottage over the phone, so I had to see it for myself and experience the horror first hand.

Seeing this terrifying building wasn’t a failure, just as coming across an article or a book you end up not needing isn’t a failure, either.  It’s just part of the process.  Research (and house hunting), isn’t always clean, linear, quick, or easy.  Sometimes it involves dead ends, wrong turns, and readjustments.

And what’s a good house hunt without at least one horror story, right?

At the risk of being that guy piling on the hype, I wanted to share this  interview with the evil genius behind the super-naughty @alasecrets.

Some highlights:

Why Twitter?
I can’t think of another venue where something like this could have caught on so quickly and generated the kind of buzz (and ire) it did in such a short amount of time. I was really bored by the sort of tweets I was reading with the #ala2009 hashtag that day, so it made sense to me to create a back-back-backchannel to the kind of banal “I am here” and “This is great” tweets I was reading elsewhere.

****

What would you say to all those who call the feed “a sewer of depravity”?
It’s obvious that there were tweets claiming dubious sexual exploits, but to think that hooking up at conferences doesn’t happen seems really naive to me. I really had no idea that sex would have dominated the feed so early in the experiment, but that direction didn’t come from out of the blue. Librarians are grown-ass adults with sex lives and senses of humor…

****

What are your favorite couple of tweets from the original @ALAsecrets?
‘I’m a librarian. That’s why I am reading every single word on every single slide out loud to you. Now go to sleep.’

‘I am an expert at technology integration and I will prove it just as soon as I figure out how to make my slides advance.’

‘Watching some vendors use twitter at #ala2009 is as painful as watching my parents try to figure out ‘their facebooks”

I saw this fascinating information presented fabulously when Veronica Vergoth sent it out to the SI-all email list. It’s really cool! It’s a data tool that presents some of the results of the 2008 American Time Use Survey. You can see breakdowns on a ton of different demographics, like men/women (alas, no info on transfolks…), white/black/hispanic (no one else is real…), employed/unemployed/”not in labor force”, and a few other key aspects.

I imagine that they made the interactive graphic have only 3 options for most demographic characteristics to make it more manageable to present, so I’m not too irritated that, once again, a major mainstream data source doesn’t reflect me or a lot of other people I know at all.

The information that is there is just fantastically informative!

Then I read the accompanying article, which focused on the employed/unemployed differences:

“Without a paying job, these Americans have picked up other forms of labor: vacuuming the house, sending out résumés, taking classes and caring for family. “

all was well until I came across the closing quote:

“If all we were doing is substituting production at home for production in the marketplace,” said Daniel S. Hamermesh, an economics professor at the University of Texas at Austin, “then maybe unemployment wouldn’t be so bad.”

Read it twice.

My first reaction: ass-hat! Making money is not what defines “productive” (read: necessary, valuable) work, in my worldview anyway. Furthermore, work in the internal/domestic sphere is historically “women’s work”, and in spite of changing attitudes, it is still a social and cultural expectation that women are primarily responsible for it, so when it’s excluded from being considered “productive”, we have clear sexism interfering (and in a post-colonial world, there’s of course also the race+class element: who does what work in whose home?) and overemphasizing the contribution of external/public sphere work in the economy.

There is such a thing as a non-monetary economy, and we have many of them, whether you believe it or not! And I’m not chasing after a chicken-egg question: plain and simple, if you don’t have your needs met in the domestic sphere, you can’t function adequately in the public sphere (e.g., if you don’t have food, it’s pretty damn hard to work all day at BankCorp, Inc. trying to bring home bacon, i.e., the ‘masculine’ side of the gendered division of labor in our neoliberal world contributes only material support to the home).

My second reaction: okay, maybe they cut off what he was saying. The reporter probably talked to Dr. Hamermesh for 20 minutes and then had to choose one key quote to meet the 500 word limit and was writing on deadline, and then the article got edited.

Third: I wonder exactly what Dr. Hamermesh means by “so bad”. I think it sucks when people don’t enough money to feed, shelter, clothe, educate, and spend time with themselves and their families adequately. Since money is a means to all of these things under American capitalism, well, then certainly higher unemployment means more people aren’t going to be able to do all that stuff as easily, and some not at all. But the way “we” Americans live, the going rate to live like that is wildly expensive. The cost of time, money, energy, and (other) resources is exorbitant for food, housing, clothing, education, and enrichment. Exorbitant!

But I have a suspicion that this is not what Dr. Hamermesh means when he says “so bad”. I can’t say for sure (his CV highlights many publications related to labor, but I don’t know what his angle is).

The way I see it, displacing work from the external spheres to the internal ones can’t be so bad. That’s where all the nurturing and cultivating work gets done! I would love to see a follow-up study of the same respondents measuring quality of life, and controlling for emotional, psychological, and physical/material stress related to unemployment and loss of income.

Ten simple steps to looking (and acting!) like a professional:

1. Open Outlook.
2. Open (read) all unread emails.
3. Respond to emails you can respond to right now.
4. Flag emails you can’t respond to right now.
5. Delete or block emails that suck.
6. Check your email again later and take care of the oldest flagged item.
7. If you’re feeling it, take care of that newest flagged item, too.
8. Get a drink of water.
9. Do something else productive.
10. Repeat.

Okay so I just saw this so I am admittedly engaging in a knee-jerk reaction but I ran across a completely new term today: High-Tech Anthropology®. It was created and registered by a computer programmer, analyst, architect, manager, and executive and addresses the lack of community/cultural/people sensitivity in software design. I’m all about cultural sensitivity and I think that programmers and professionals creating tools for people to use should know the user very well. And since anthropologists study pretty much anything related to humanity, especially including tools, the idea of merging these two fields isn’t really that far-fetched. My problem, however, is with this term…its implications and its use.

I wonder about their methods:

“Interestingly enough, many of the best practices did not come from computer science; they came from anthropology. So we began to talk to anthropologists, study their techniques, and learn from their discipline. Eventually, we even called our practice “High-Tech Anthropology®” and our team members “High-Tech Anthropologists®.”

I got my undergraduate degree in anthropology. I’m getting an MSI to become an ALA-certified librarian. I like titles and I do, generally speaking, like the educational landscapes I must traverse through to get these titles. Talking to an anthropologist doesn’t make you one.  I feel like this organization, however well intended, has made the same mistake they seek to redress: they are making assumptions that their methods and approaches are correct and appropriate without taking into context the paths that are needed to properly use these approaches and methods.

Besides, anthro is in DDC 301 and computer programming is in DDC 005. That’s like stacks and stacks away.

I espouse interdisciplinarity, the intellectual weight of non-expert knowledge and I like the idea of a practice of High-Tech Anthropology®, I just have a feeling that this is well intended but ultimately kind of misses the point. That or I just pointed out how much of a hypocrite I am and that I really am a Category Nazi who doesn’t like to shake up her p’s and q’s. Probably my reaction is a bit of both.

Say what you will about Nicholson Baker (of Above the Fold fame/infamy). The man can write.  Persuasively and well.  In the most recent edition of the New Yorker, Baker takes on the Kindle, writing a humorous and thought-provoking first-hand account of his recent purchase of a Kindle 2.

As an author, lover of literature, and a man concerned with the aesthetic qualities of books, Baker provides a detailed review of his experience using the Kindle 2 and Kindle DX.  Highlights include:

The lack of contrast on its screen:
“The problem was not that the screen was in black-and-white; if it had really been black-and-white, that would have been fine. The problem was that the screen was gray. And it wasn’t just gray; it was a greenish, sickly gray. A postmortem gray. The resizable typeface, Monotype Caecilia, appeared as a darker gray. Dark gray on paler greenish gray was the palette of the Amazon Kindle.”

An elegant and effective description of the rights you have (and the ones you sign away) to your digital content:
“Here’s what you buy when you buy a Kindle book. You buy the right to display a grouping of words in front of your eyes for your private use with the aid of an electronic display device approved by Amazon. …Kindle books aren’t transferrable. You can’t give them away or lend them or sell them. You can’t print them. They are closed clumps of digital code that only one purchaser can own. A copy of a Kindle book dies with its possessor.”

And a hilarious accounting of the ecological ramifications of the device:
“Yes, it’s made of exotic materials that are shipped all over the world’s oceans; yes, it requires electricity to operate and air-conditioned server farms to feed it; yes, it’s fragile and it duplicates what other machines do; yes, it’s difficult to recycle; yes, it will probably take a last boat ride to a Nigerian landfill in five years. But no tree farms are harvested to make a Kindle book; no ten-ton presses turn, no ink is spilled.”

Ultimately, Baker concludes that while Amazon “is very good at selling things,” it hasn’t yet designed an ebook reader that can truly replace the utility and aesthetic joy of books and newspapers.  For books, Baker recommends reading on an iPod Touch or an iPhone over the Kindle.

As a book lover, librarian, and student of art and design, I’m stuck ruminating on Baker’s descriptions of the Kindle’s many failings when it comes to replicating the aesthetic experience of books and newspapers.  But I get paid to care about books, to understand and evaluate their properties as both objects and containers for information.  Will the average reader care about any of this?  Will he or she notice the lack of contrast between creamy paper and crisp, black letters in a beautiful and (readable!) font?  What about the lack of typographical design, illustrations, color, or other features? At first, no, they might not.  But I think they will eventually.

Beautiful and functional design often has the ability to be transparent if not invisible, especially to those unfamiliar with kerning, gutters, serifs, paper quality, binding methods, or other features of the books that occupy our shelves, coffee tables, and nightstands.  But I’m confident that readers will eventually notice they’re being sold an inferior product, and I look forward to widespread demand for higher-quality ebooks and readers.  If the Kindle is a terrible device, then the solution isn’t to reject the whole idea of ebooks and machines for reading.  Instead, I believe that readers, librarians, book lovers, and everyone else should be making lots of noise about the kind of ebooks and devices we’d like to see–their features, licensing and rights schemes, and overall user experience.

What do you think?

[Note: This content is cross-posted from a previous post on Hung Truong: The Blog!]

Looking back on my old posts from before I went to school at a hybrid Information/Library Science school, my opinions of librarians seemed fueled by a bit of prejudice. For example, in my visiting days post I wrote:

I sat down at a table whose occupants were librarians. Pretty much everyone there was an LIS (library and information services) specialist. This wasn’t really a great first impression, since I applied under the HCI (human-computer interaction) specialization, and to be honest, libraries aren’t really my thing.

What, exactly, did I have against librarians and libraries? I think I mostly felt that, from the school’s website (or the parts of the website that I studied), the program was more for people who were generally interested in information from a more technology-oriented viewpoint. So I was hoping to see more technological-minded folks at my table.

I still, however, decided to enroll. And I’m glad I did. Slowly, I think I started to understand what libraries are all about. I started using the local library. A lot. It probably also helped that I worked at a library my entire time at the school. I wasn’t studying to be a librarian, but I was exposed to the culture. Computer nerds and librarians make a good team.

So did library school actually change me? Or was I somehow intrinsically drawn to the program where computer nerds and book nerds collide? Maybe a little of both. I’ve always had a secret love for organizing and archiving things.

For example, pretty much no one in my family seems to care much about backing up files. I, on the hand, am a bit obsessed about it. I still have files from middle school preserved in their original file formats and directory structure in place. Who knows, some day I might want to look back on that stuff. I’m also kind of a nut when it comes to properly organizing and applying metadata (and preserving said metadata) from photos. Oh, and also backing everything up, both on-site and off-site (using multiple online services).

I also get really irritated when I go to the library and see something like this:

Is that a Drama and Horror blu-ray disc I see mixed in with the Action ones!? Usually I will take the offending discs and put them in the right place. There was also that one time I saw Harry Potter in Comedy when it should have gone in Fantasy. The worst is when a DVD gets mixed in with blu-ray. That’s like the same as a book being in the CD section! Oh man, now I’m rambling.

The point is, I think I already had some Librarian/Archivist in me before coming to library school. Hanging out with like-minded people probably reinforced the behavior mentioned above. And probably for the better. If you’re a computer nerd, I suggest you check out libraries (and librarians!). If you’re a library nerd, I suggest you check out computer nerd stuff (and computer nerds!). Together, we can make the world a more information-y place.