Once a semester, we take the freshmen enrolled in English classes to Barnes & Noble to select a book for the library to purchase. Before the trip, the kids research our catalog, do some online research at the B&N site, and print out the page that features the book they’d like the library to have.
This is genius as far as I can tell. First, the library gets to purchase books each year, and the B&N trips allow readers to make those choices that are typically left to us. If the kids choose the books they want to read, the appeal of the collection is greater than, say, a collection created by “old dudes” like me. The scope of their choices is wide– challenging literary works, manga, nonfiction, teen girl books, things I don’t really have any interest in (the Halo books, the Resident Evil books, the aforementioned teen girl books, etc.). The kids’ choosing also makes my job easier, for my selecting books for purchase usually entails research, finding reviews, comparing the prospective texts against our current holdings, and spending quite a bit of time online. I like the process, but I recently spent the better part of a day choosing nonfiction books that will cost less than $2000, and I have $12,500 in hard-earned grant money to spend. So I’ll be at it a while.
The trips also serve as good PR for the library–the kids like getting out of the school for a period, they sense that we are interested in their reading choices, and the books they buy generally create a buzz around school because shrill young freshmen tend to shriek about every little thing. Our books included, which is fine by me, as long as the shrieking remains at some considerable distance from me.
The trips also afford me the chance to sit over at the Barnes & Noble and drink frothy caffeinated beverages on occasion, to wave at Baby Girl as I walk from library to bus when she’s out on the playground, and to see kids being happy about books. They also go nuts for the caffeinated beverages, the costly snacks, and whatnot.
Today a student came up to me and wanted help finding Seymour Simon’s Big Cats, so I headed over to the cool little B&N computer search deal (that would, by the way, Mr. Barnes and also Mr. Noble, be much more useful if the content featured reviews of the texts instead of merely featuring availability and location). I asked the kid if he was interested in big cats, and he said, “Yeah. You know, if I get rich, I want to own one [italics mine].” I was searching away, and I replied, “Own one? That might be kind of dangerous.” And he said, “No. I want to get a small one, like a puma or something.”
Sounds like a plan.
