Library Kid

My life in libraries from the east to the west

When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time in the library. The one at my elementary school was small, but had a clawfoot tub full of pillows perfect for snuggling in to read. The outside of the tub was painted a deep mustard yellow, or maybe more burnt orange, but the paint had a spackled texture that made it rough to the touch. When my third grade class paid visits to the library for story time or to check out books, there was usually a race to see who could reach the tub first and climb in without hearing the teacher yell about not running in the library. It was always one of the boys who succeeded in that endeavor. Somewhere Pops has a photo of me in that reading tub, grinning at the camera.

Because my school was Seventh Day Adventist, and not inclined to promote fiction reading, we didn’t have much in the way of fiction on the shelves—at least not that I remember. There were a lot of biographies written for kids, including one on Marie Antoinette that I read several times, fascinated by her story.¹ The school library stacks were full of biographies of women who survived a rough, often secular childhood to become an Adventist and later a missionary, spreading God’s word all over the world. I frequently lost interest in those stories once the pre-conversion drama was over.

The best libraries were the ones Momcat took me to in Prince George’s County, Maryland. The one I remember the most clearly was the New Carrollton branch, which had two levels and was housed in a ‘70s style concrete building, with long windows and open stairs inside. In my memory, the children’s section was huge, with a play area with beanbag chairs, low-lying tables, and bins full of toys. The section was semi-enclosed by short shelves full of picture books and early reader selections. On the outside of the play area were long rows of three- and four-shelf bookcases with fiction and nonfiction books. I repeatedly read the Betsy-Tacy books and learned about the horrors of diphtheria from them. I learned what titian hair meant thanks to Carolyn Keene, aka Mildred Wirt Benson, and her physical descriptions of Nancy Drew.

New Carrollton branch library as I remember it in the ‘70s. The building was renovated in 2018.

Because I started reading at a young age, and I was reading a lot, it wasn’t long before I graduated from the library’s children’s section to the teen/young adult section. I remember the teen/YA section at Hyattsville Library the most, as by that point we were living only 15 minutes from that location. The Hyattsville Library’s young adult section carried tons of paperbacks, back when mass market paperbacks were the thing. I read books about first love, friendships forged and broken, puberty, summer camp adventures. I checked out Forever by Judy Blume and smuggled it into school, increasing my street cred with the popular girls as they clustered around my open locker, with one girl as the lookout for teachers, while the others pored over the most titillating parts. Books with intriguing covers always caught my interest first, which is likely why I began reading more suspense and thrillers. Among my favorites were Lois Duncan and the Twilight label series, which ventured more into horror. To this day there are images from those books in my memory, and it’s probably a big reason why I rarely read horror or suspense novels anymore.

Hyattsville branch library in Hyattsville, MD, back when I went there in the ‘80s. The library was demolished and rebuilt, and reopened in April 2022.

Cracking open a library book always sated my hunger for knowledge or entertainment. I could lie on my bed and immerse myself in someone else’s life, inhaling the smell of slightly musty paper as I turned the page. No matter what library I went to, the rows of books beckoned to me with their stories of adventure, suspense, terror, romance. I could lose myself in their pages for hours on end. Finishing a book was rarely sad because there was always another one to read, another book waiting for me to turn its pages, stick a bookmark inside to hold my place.

During my 16 years in California I had at least three library cards. The Long Beach library was a short walk from my apartment, and often had a good selection of CDs to check out, as well as DVDs. I remember finding and reading the Sookie Stackhouse books there—and grinning when one of my favorite local bars, Alex’s, became a shooting location for “True Blood,” the series based on the books. When I moved to Davis, I quickly signed up for a Yolo County library card and read as many books as I could by teachers & graduates of the UC Davis creative writing program: Pam Houston, Jodi Angel, Lynn Freed. I spent time at the library studying for the GRE, working on answering math questions, studying vocabulary. After I moved to downtown Sacramento, I got a Sacramento County library card and regularly walked to the Central Branch which was less than a mile away. If I couldn’t focus on client projects at home, or writing my novel, I’d pack up my laptop and head to the library to work for a few hours at a study carrel, tucked away from the world but still close to a window that looked down on the city below.

A side door for Sacramento Central Library, Sacramento, CA.

I wouldn’t be the person I am now if it weren’t for all the libraries I’ve spent time in since I was little. I have seen libraries shift and change from row upon row of shelved hardcover and paperback books to e-readers available for checkout. These days it’s rare that I check out physical books, but when I do, that slightly musty scent of its pages takes me right back to those early years of going to New Carrollton library, filling my book bag with as many books as possible, rushing home to start reading.

1. Even now I’m still fascinated and horrified by 18^th century France, and I am still inclined to read biographies on Marie Antoinette, or historical fiction set in France.