How My Experience with the Public Library Increased My Appetite for Books

I worked in a public library system for the first 15 years of my professional life, so up until changing careers in 2017, I was under the impression that everyone read books. This was not as a result of daily interactions with people checking out stacks of books, or the fact of being surrounded by books constantly coming and going, or the absurd amount of copies of hot new titles being ordered, put on shelves, and disappearing faster than you can say “Fifty Shades.” No, I thought everyone read books the way “everyone”

• takes a shower and brushes their teeth: habitually.
• looks forward to a stiff drink at the end of the work week: with anticipation.
• watches TV or cuddles in bed: to find comfort, pleasure, and relaxation.
• checks the news: to stay informed.

The first time I heard someone (an adult, referring to both him and his partner) casually state the phrase “We don’t read,” I blanched. I had been an avid reader since I was a child, but thinking back, there were some elements–both surprising and obvious–of being a public library employee that turned a casual hobby into a voracious habit.

1. I wasn’t allowed to read books on the clock.

If you’ve ever worked in a public service job, you know that at all times you must either be working, pretending like you’re working, or waiting to work. At no time should you appear to be enjoying yourself, and that means no reading at the desk. We were only allowed to read on our breaks, which were union-approved blocks of free time that gave the many boring days structure and purpose. Consequently, reading became a guilty pleasure--something to look forward to alongside our coffee and donuts in the break room and a rebellious and self-indulgent act of joy we got away with when the managers weren’t around.

2. I had first dibs on the newly-ordered titles.

I realize what I’m about to say will make me sound like a full-on book nerd, but there was nothing more exciting than unpacking a box of fresh, new, shiny books with their glowing plastic covers and uncracked spines. Not only were we the first ones to access new titles, but the library system I worked for would send out monthly internal emails with all of the new releases that were on order so that employees could place holds on them before the general public started requesting them. If that doesn’t sound like a big deal, know that super-hyped titles often had a list of holds that could be hundreds of people long, resulting in months of waiting if we didn’t act quickly enough.

3. I was constantly surrounded by literature.

Yes, exposure makes a difference. Without being there, I might not have even known certain genres or authors or book titles existed. I might not have known I wanted a book until I saw it. It’s one of the ways working in a public library is like working in retail: maybe you normally wouldn’t think to shop there, but the longer you stare at that rack of tops/headphones/gloves/whatever, the more you start picturing yourself in them. Now picture yourself in them for free. Even a non-reader would eventually pick up a book, because why not? Next thing you know, you’ve got thirty library books scattered around your house and a stack on your nightstand.

4. I reveled in the aesthetic pleasures of handling books.

The smell of old library books. The feeling of their old leathery covers. Their delicate, detailed illustrations. I even enjoyed going down to the dust-covered stacks in the basement to pull a title out from the darkness. There really is so much romance that surrounds old books and quiet library stacks.

5. I talked shop with my coworkers and avoided FOMO.

We all read, but we didn’t all read the same things. So when any coworker asked if I had read something or recommended a book to me, I checked it out for two reasons: one, so I could talk about it with them, and two, so I could expand my horizons by reading something I normally would not pick out for myself. When “Fifty Shades of Grey” came out and everyone was reading it and talking about it (don’t get me started on weird I thought it was that people were reading this at work), I finally jumped on the bandwagon to see what all the fuss was about. I had browsed the pages here and there, but when I tried to read it in earnest I could not get past the first page. I now have an informed opinion on what was incomprehensibly a major cultural phenomenon in 2011-2012.

I have since moved to a different city and am now a proud, card-carrying patron of my public library. My small neighborhood branch location rarely has more than three people total in the whole building, but I am frequently one of them. I typically have a maximum of four or five books checked out at a time, but I go regularly enough that I never run out of anything to read (well, occasionally I have to rely on my own bookshelf, but I collect a fair amount of books there to choose from too). I spend a gratuitous amount of time on the library website and Goodreads choosing what to read next, placing books on hold, reading reviews, looking up recommendations, and just doing book stuff. But I do miss spontaneous discovery and being able to talk about books on a regular basis. Thankfully, my husband was also a library employee, and his appetite nearly matches mine.