Love in the Library

Feb 265 min read

Jimmy Buffett once sang about Love in the Library.

Love in the library, quiet and cool Love in the library, there are no rules Surrounded by stories surreal and sublime I fell in love in the library once upon a time

While our Parrothead in the Sky was singing about falling in love with someone in the aisles of books, I understood, even as a kid, that this song represented a deep love for libraries and their magic.

Quiet Adventure

My soul resides in many places, one of which is comfortably among piles of books. As a kid, it was weird to figure out my otherworldly gifts. I often didn’t know where to put the energy I felt, and my overactive imagination needed a way to materialize.

Reading was supported and encouraged in my household. We used to have reading hours in my house as a kid. It was a rule that there was no TV until the reading hour was over. When my siblings had completed their hour, they often moved on to another activity while most days I remained immersed in my chosen world that day.

I even used to sneak off from cleaning the kitchen after dinner to read, lying about my tummy troubles disappearing (into my book) without question. I would leave the chore to my siblings, who would goof around until I felt satisfied with how far I advanced in my book before returning to help clean the kitchen.

A Sea (Isle City) of Books

My childhood library was modest and poorly lit. As a youngin, I discovered solace in the small, quiet corners of the yellowy-lit Sea Isle City Library, a magical alcove flowing with magical tales. Although the structure of my childhood was demolished ages ago, the new library is spectacular, overlooking the marshes on the bay—the magic lives on with much better views and lighting.

The crowds fluctuated wildly as our small beach town's seasons changed from spring to summer. The library staff nimbly accommodated the book-hungry shoobies who borrowed the latest New York Times Bestsellers and beach reads, oftentimes tearing through a book a day whilst on vacation.

I have fond memories of hitting the shelves to borrow my favorite book, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, for the hundredth time, following my insatiable curiosity about local lore and ghost stories in books and newspaper clippings and feeding my imagination. The library was a rare parent-approved spot where I could exercise my independence without the trail of younger siblings or cousins. It was just for me.

As a teen, the school library had its reprieve. I could cry in peace or borrow books I didn’t need for school papers—a quiet solace in a chaotic sea of classes and demanding athletics.

I did much of the same at Rowan University, spending long study hours there, though I didn’t always do my best studying. The library's book smell was so powerful that you could smell the books outside the building. I would walk there late at night for the scent to feel something.

I remember a particularly lonely spring break spent on campus reading (and probably crying) into a novel while listening to music. It calmed the calamities in my heart and gave me hope in a time of desperate need.

The librarians I’ve met throughout my life have always had room in their hearts for those who needed the library. They are all unsung heroes and companions.

I Found Love in a Hopeless Place

As an adult, I moved from the familiar and comfortable South Jersey to the unknown wilds of North Jersey.

At the time, I thought I was prepared. In reality, I wasn’t. The move placed me a few hours away from lifelong friends and loved ones, and my access to their company was significantly reduced, which, in turn, reduced my happiness, at least at first.

I owe a debt of gratitude to the exceedingly kind and generous Morris County Library system staff. They have, with certainty, profoundly assisted in my personal and professional growth.

During my first years here, I spent hours at the Mt. Arlington Library checking out every Harlan Coben book I could—a rediscovery of an author I originally read in high school who happened to be writing about North Jersey. Visiting gave me something to look forward to when unsure about myself and my new environment.

Everything changed when we moved to Denville.

The staff at the Denville Library are an incredibly selfless team of individuals who ensure the community is cared for. Aside from the gorgeous building, which is surrounded by local parks and community gardens, the interior invites readers, families, the elderly, and anyone looking for something into its hallowed halls. From books to tools and things, free movies, teen activity days, children reading to dogs, or seed banks, and frankly—too many opportunities to mention—the Denville Library and staff helped to soften my once hardened heart.

The staff generously provided me with their time, patience, opinions, guidance, good humor, and understanding when I needed it most. They supported ideas when I had them or just discussed books we’ve read at length. They taught me to utilize my library card to its maximum and encouraged new authors or genres. They’re just lovely, extraordinary people who deserve their flowers.

Libraries are the only location in a capitalist society that cultivates the community without needing to spend money. You can head to your library without a dime in your pocket and rent tools beyond books to help you learn new skills or meet new people.

Siren Books would not exist without the companionship of the Denville Library. Countless hours have been spent working there, printing things cost-effectively, finding resources, and exchanging ideas with the librarians. I’m thankful beyond words.

I hope they accept my very public display of gratitude. I’m genuinely so grateful.

Trying times

The question of the future remains foggy at best. What will happen next seems more unpredictable by the day, especially as the affordability of everything fluctuates with significant swings.

This is the time to support and utilize your libraries.

I often see conversations online about “third spaces” and how Millennial kids (like myself) and older generations were afforded more kid-friendly options and third spaces—the time to call back the library's power as an actual third space is now.

Libraries offer programming covering all kinds of interests! Don’t miss out on free movie nights, opportunities to meet authors, free classes, opportunities for teens to gather and create, book clubs, and places for parents to bring their children to learn and socialize.

When the world gets uncertain, we turn to our communities to strengthen the bonds of the people around us. No one understands this better than your local librarians.

Of course, I encourage you to support local businesses and use your purchasing power to direct income to your local grocers, booksellers, restaurants, and boutiques. They’re all important and part of this greater equation.

But don’t forget about your libraries. When the powers that be want us weaker, they target places of learning, most notably, the library systems. Don’t let our precious collection of knowledge and safe gathering fall to those who only care for themselves and no one else.

Libraries offer knowledge and the opportunity to learn in a time of disinformation and automation. Don't lose the fire of curiosity that burns within you. Reignite the flame among the community, guided by those trained to help you find what you seek.