The Evils of the E-Reader Shelves

You’ve heard the stories about haunted libraries, forbidden rooms, locked doors and everything that makes for good campfire entertainment but turns out to be nothing in the end. The ghosts are just the curtains blowing in the wind, the locked door is where they store the microfilms, the forbidden room is the staff-only bathroom. It’s all wild fun.

But there does lurk a horror in the library, and it’s not just a fun campfire story. This is real horror, despair, futility, something that makes every library worker question their life choices. To tell you would ruin the fun of those campfires, kill your desire to work in a library.

But since I’m a killjoy, here goes.

The Children’s Room at the library is bright, colorful. Books and materials and maker spaces as far as the eye can see. They host fun activities, programs, the occasional party at the park, summer reading, kids love it. It’s the best. And for the most part I’m proud to work there.

But in the middle of the room, to the right of the coloring table, lies total chaos known as the Early Readers section.

It is the bane of a librarian’s existence, especially a tall one. The shelves are low to the ground, you’ve gotta bend or crouch or get on your knees even to sort the books on top. It’s real murder on the back and knees, let me tell you.

And they’re always a mess. Children never put the books back in order - if they put them back at all. Shelving returned books is a nightmare. They go by author’s last name and title, and sometimes even series. There are so many that it can be hard to keep track of them all.

Sorting the books for the junior series is less of a hassle. No, really. It’s a big job, sure, but at least J-series are sorted by number and those shelves are higher. And the older kids are usually better at putting things back where they belong.

One afternoon I spent over an hour cleaning up the E-readers. Putting the books in order, double-checking every call number, making sure the spines face outward. My supervisor actually told me to stop at one point, said I was gonna hurt myself. I was done just seconds before it was time for me to leave and I wasn’t allowed to do any shelving the next day.

I came in bright and early the next morning and the middle shelves looked like a tornado blew through. For one instant, I seriously considered going back to school and finishing the history degree I abandoned for ILS in the first place. Or asking for my old job back stocking canned beef stew at Target.

That was the day I vowed never to touch the E-readers again. Now my co-worker does it, and sometimes I can hear her crying in the break room.

I feel bad for her, but not enough to offer to help. And for those of you who’d call me a bad person for that, I dare you to straighten up those shelves for just one hour and then see if you can say that with a straight face.

I’ll be waiting with painkillers and a heat pack for you when you’re ready to give in.