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Moving SWIFTly On…

For Computers in Libraries 2008 (common tag: CIL2008), where I’m the emcee for a two-session program, “From Woepac to Wowpac,” I’ve received several messages encouraging me to “start adding content to the SWIFT platform.” Like slides, blog posts, delicious tags… the stuff I generally post here.

I took a look at SWIFT when it was first announced, and decided to give it a pass. I already have a place to write about the conferences I attend, I’m unimpressed with the Otter Group, and my first experience with the product was that it waddled all over my Facebook profile and had a slew of broken functions. Why would I even bother with SWIFT?

I haven’t been alone in that question; the Twitterverse was immediately a-flutter, and Jessamyn as usual had a direct hit.

Since then, we have been advised that the Otter Group terms of service “have been revised … to reflect [our] concerns.” Well, thank goodness for that. But I still don’t need SWIFT and I still don’t care for its faint whiff of inauthenticity. (I can see the boardroom meeting now: “2.0: ka-ching, ka-ching! It’s gonna be big, big BIG!”)

My other concern is that there is really only so much I will do for any one conference. Please don’t take this wrong, but as much as I look forward to attending, CiL or any conference isn’t the center of my universe. I plan to show up, do a good job, blog a session or two, Twitter a little, upload slides if I have them, network with my buddies, exchange a few business cards, get on the plane home and move on with my professional life.

If there’s a wiki, a common keyword, a blog, and a way to continue the discussion before and after — bravo! (I just posted how to do this on a shoestring.) But none of this needs an enterprise 2.0 conference platform thingamajig. Am I to become a “user” on every competing conference site pushed my way this year? Who’s selling this stuff, and why? (O.k., I know why.)

What I missed at Internet Librarian 2007 (from the same company, Information Today) was wifi in the “hotel” side of the presentations. If Information Today wants to spend money on an improvement, ensuring MESH wifi for their conference sites would be my vote. Meanwhile, horseman, SWIFTly pass by.

Thinking Ahead to Creative Nonfiction 2009

I scribbled ideas for next year’s Creative Nonfiction conference on an evaluation form before heading to L&M for one last meal that had me squealing over the sustainably-farmed locally-made chorizo, but assuming the forensic scientists at CNF gave up trying to analyze my bad handwriting, I thought I’d also share my ideas here.

Again, CNF 2008 was a great experience… one in fact so good I’d like to see it better promoted and attended, with more opportunities for attendees to network before, during, and after the event. So let me present…

Nine Ideas for CNF 2009 She Keyboarded During Lunch:

1. As soon as conference registration opens, offer a conference wiki, like this one from ALA 2007 or this one from the last Internet Librarian. Give access to registrants and encourage them to share their own information. The wiki is also a great place to note tiny but crucial details such as alternate parking areas for the main conference hotel, campus maps, and restaurant phone numbers and hours.

2. As for topics, at least one program focused on online publications would be interesting.

3. Establish a mail reflector list and put everyone on it so you can send information to everyone.

4. Establish a mail discussion list and make it available (not required) for conference alums.

5. Collect cell phone numbers on your form and use them for texting updates and corrections, such as (*cough*) last-minute room changes.

6. Encourage live blogging (which means: provide free wifi access, let registrants know it will be available, and ask them to list their blogs and to sign up to cover specific sessions).

7. Establish a common keyword such as CNF2009 to use on social networking sites (blogs, del.icio.us, etc.), and make sure the keyword is prominently noted on the main page of the wiki.

8. Create a Flickr Pro account (c’mon, it’s only $25 a year!) and encourage people to contribute. (Start by creating a group that includes pictures from the previous year’s conference.)

9. Use a blog to distribute information before the conference (it will mostly overlap with #3, so there’s a content re-use opportunity, but it will be publicly available and could offer more engagement).

10, 11, 12, 13, 14…? A delicious set? A Twitter account? (I almost dropped my Treo when one of the publishers mentioned Twitter; I thought I was the only one at CNF on that grid. I even Twittered from CNF… is that a first?)

Note that all of these ideas require some effort to get going, but most rely on free or very low-cost tools and user-contributed content. Most of these suggestions have a very high ratio of gain compared to effort and cost.

Still thinking fondly of the people, the panels, the publishers — and the chorizo…

Best. News. Ever!

Our friend Gail just received a kidney/pancreas, after what felt like a decades-long wait.

If you “mean to” get around to ensuring you’re a donor, please do it. Someone’s decision gave Gail a new lease on life.

Movers and Shakers and Candlestick Makers

(Sorry, I just had to rhyme.)

Library Journal has announced its annual Movers and Shakers, and it’s a very good batch. Unfortunately, LJ’s website is so kabobbled that you’re best off exploring M&S 2008 through Jessamyn’s short list or Connie Crosby’s longer list.

I was the “second” on the nomination for Tim Spalding, so I’m passing out cigars over his selection to M&S. I think some librarians are embarrassed by that old-tyme books-‘n’-reading religion, as if their bumper stickers say I’D RATHER BE GAMING. Yet I haven’t worked in a traditional library-with-books since 2001, and every year I am a little more in love with reading. Of all the personae I inhabit, my reading self is the kindest, most interesting, and most unpredictable. The radical, transformative heart of librarianship is to take society’s pre-programmed thinkers — the products of our educational systems and our TV culture — and turn them into lifelong readers.

Many other good folk got the nod this year, including Pete Bromberg. Pete, has it really been a decade since we worked in the same library? Marshall Shore’s nomination tickled me, since “saying no to Dewey” seemed to irritate many librarians by its very success.

I see many other good, deserving names, too many to list. It’s a good crop. The list pushed me toward two meditations.

First, I know of many “movers and shakers” who haven’t been on any of these lists. That would include the Evergreen crew, the four Karens (Coyle, Markey, and Calhoun — Coombs was last year, if I’m not mistaken), Jeremy Frumkin of OSU’s LibraryFind project, and a few more who are either very code-focused or a bit long in the tooth. (When I raised the age issue, one person said his director was a M&S last year, and she’s all of fifty years old. I suppose he had to drive to her nursing home to shout the nomination into her ear trumpet.) So some of us need to nominate the coders and the grizzled mavericks and other people who are like, you know, reinventing the organization of information for cryin’ out loud.

Second, when I raised this issue on Twitter, predictably, some people thought I was fishing. I am not. That’s because right now, there’s very little M&S in my professional life. The time for me to be an M&S was in the late 1990s, before LJ dreamed up Movers and Shakers and I was hot on the filtering issue (and also migrating databases from CD to Web, introducing wifi, etc.), or earlier in this decade, when with a team of ace librarians I ramped up a state-funded informational website. In retrospect, we did some rad stuff, we did. And I liked being in charge. It’s Nice To Be The Queen.

I’m not complaining. (Trust me: it’s a joy to walk into My Place Of Work and be greeted by smiles. Every. Single. Day.) It’s just how cycles of life and work go. I do interesting and I hope valuable work, but then, I’m in a building overflowing with many people who do the same.

The fact is that LibraryLand brims with talented people doing a great job every single day. If you are not among them, buff up your c.v. and start hunting. As a smart fellow said to me recently, for his next job he’s thinking less about what he will do than about who he will work with. You spend too much time at work (and these days to be “present” at work extends far beyond the 8×5 week) to not be surrounded by talent and passion.

I do have an idea I’m going to write about soon. It may strike a chord with librarians, or it may not — or more likely, I’ll need to build a following (if one is even needed within LibraryLand). Sometimes I forget that when I started investigating Internet filtering, I received a chilly reception from many quarters. I even had a post removed from a library discussion list after a filter vendor spooked a silly rabbit of a list moderator. In those days, such resistance only piqued my interest in the issue. (And I remained persona non grata among the intellectual-freedom absolutists for insisting that access for children was a separate issue from access for adults. My take? Reluctance to admit that killed our chances with CIPA, turning it from something we fought to something we “implement.”)

But I digress. I have an idea. It’s a good one. Last night in our writing workshop we talked about being generous with manuscripts — a group of five writers is a pretty dang good witness to ownership, should any of us ever have a problem, which we will not — but careful with ideas. So I’m thinking through how and when; I’m mulling over funding, leadership, marketing, etc. It’s spring — a good season for germinating ideas.

I’m nobody. Who are you?

[update: Mr. Baker apologized — see comment below. That was very nice of him.]

I was laughing in spite of myself through Nicholson Baker’s essay about Wikipedia (agreeing with him on many points, and yet irritated that such a biblio-retro could make me chuckle) when I read:

Someone recently proposed a Wikimorgue—a bin of broken dreams where all rejects could still be read, as long as they weren’t libelous or otherwise illegal. Like other middens, it would have much to tell us over time. We could call it the Deletopedia.

Wait, I thought. Wasn’t I that someone? I had suggested the Wikimorgue in my CIO.com article last September.

Oh, come on, said the other Self hovering over my head. Big-britches Nicholson couldn’t be referring to me. At most, this is one of those great ideas that a million people came up with before I did.

Naturally, I finally broke down and Googled the phrase, then looked it up in Wikipedia, where (at least as of this writing) I am sourced for that expression. (No, I am not a sock puppet!)

I’m generous enough, and not paranoid enough, to say that when The Economist has a graph or two that’s close to what I said in my piece, I agree they said it well and put their spin on it. There’s nothing new under the sun, and it’s impossible to critique Wikipedia without making sport of what I called its “bureaucratic patois” — the kind of detail that sticks in a reader’s mind.

But anyhoo. What is a citation that does not reference the source? Was Baker too shy or busy — or was he unwilling to give proper credit to one of those “telecommunications enthusiasts” who toss books from libraries willy-nilly when they are not trampling his fair copies and grinding them into microfiche?

Isn’t it peculiar that I sourced this through Wikipedia, with which I have a relationship so complex it rivals that of my family of origin?

Oh, and in a neat twist, we can tie this in to librarianship, because Thomas Mann (the hired gun, not the author) gave me the same Nobody treatment in his latest screed against the proposed cataloging standard, RDA. I’m the citation he references as “Google Blogs.”

Which provides a slant rhyme neatly concluding this post (and for which I can even supply a YouTube video):


I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there’s a pair of us—don’t tell!
They’d banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

Driving a hybrid on my Lenten journey

I’m not really driving a hybrid (not that I would object if Santa put a forest-green Prius in my stocking this year); I still have my 1993 Honda Civic, which gets a respectable mileage for its 4-mile commute to my office. So the title of this post is a metaphor for how I’m approaching Lent this year.

Usually I stop doing something for Lent. (Quick synopsis of this season: According to the Scripture, Jesus went into the desert. The Devil sought to tempt Jesus with worldliness, but Jesus, thrice, resisted. He came out of the desert, got whacked, and three days later rose from the dead. Notice how there are no bunnies in this story.)

My own Lents of previous years have been fairly typical. For 40 days (less a few slip-ups), I deny myself that “thing” — fat, carbohydrates, refined sugar, whatever. Then I observe the Passion of Christ, celebrate His rising, and resume my regular habits.

But Jesus didn’t go into the wilderness to take off a few pounds. He was looking for other things, such as introspection, education, and — most crucially — transformation.

This Lent I’m not looking for a quick diet or for presto abnegation. My goal this Lent is to move farther down the food chain, and closer to our local growers. I want to connect with the miracle of the food cycle right here in the Big Bend region. I want to understand where my food comes from. I want to talk to the people who grow my food. I want to know that what nourishes me supports my neighbor.

I’m not on some “test” where I do or do not “cheat.” Some days are easier than others, and travel is always tough. But I’m trying to avoid refined flour and sugar, and I’m also trying to embrace local markets, local foods, local farms, regional, seasonal products, and in general become more aware of and sensitive to the consequences of how we produce food in America. I’m trying to avoid CAFO meat and dairy, but also to embrace meat, eggs, and cheese from happy animals. I’m asking why I need to buy fruit from Peru or California when I live in an area with its own fabulous produce, and I’m also trying to understand what food should be available at this time of year — not just what we force into availability. As some of my favorite food writers have discussed, I’m trying to be a better omnivore.

Some things are easier than others. The bowls of office candy were hugely tempting for several weeks. Now I look at them and see high-fructose corn syrup and preservatives — basically, government-subsidized garbage. I already fight the tubbiness common to aging office workers; the nervous office nibbling needed to stop anyway. The more I read about our broken food system, the more repelled I am by commodity meat and dairy; I see those poor animals packed shoulder-to-shoulder in feed lots, forced to eat unnatural foods, and I don’t want to be part of that misery. I go to the market and bring home white eggplant and Vidalia onion greens grown in local farms, and my mouth waters all day as I think about how I’m going to cook them.

In a season associated with denial, I’m looking for transformation from a baby lettuce leaf. From a ruddy, hand-hefty tomato. From a sweet, crisp oyster.

Recommended reading: Michael Pollan, The Omnivore’s Dilemma; Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle; Eric Schlosser, Fast Food Nation.

Suddenly in Hartford, then home again

One of the trips that didn’t make my schedule was a very sudden trip to Hartford to present at the Trendspotting III conference held Friday by the Connecticut Library Consortium. I left Thursday late afternoon and am flying back today (Saturday).

It was an interesting gig; the WALDO consortium recently signed up Liblime, so the air was frisky with revolt. The theme song could have been “we ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more.”

(One point about the Olde Way of doing things is how much dang work goes into “turnkey” software — and how hard it is to do that work in the traditional cloak-and-dagger NDA environment. All big systems are going to have “work” related to their software, but the question is are you working for the community or are you working for The Man. As a business decision, you’re better off with the first choice.)

Librarianship was reinvented over dinner last night (as it often is over such dinners) with the likes of Kate Sheehan and John Blyberg of Darien Library, Chris Bradley of CLC and Maura from Twitter — sorry, I just realized to me that’s her identity! She’s a delightfully smart, well-spoken woman and quite the fashionista. I know Maura must have a last name…

It might seem like a waste of a Saturday, except I have to catch up on my reading for my workshop. (now that I have two workshop groups — a one-on-one and a larger group — I’m going to have to give them better names).  So I’m wildly grateful to be in between two places today with two manuscripts I need to read for the second time and then write up.

Though I left all my red pens at home. How could that happen? They now get added to my packing list.

The Luck o’ the Link Love

Still careening through homework, but the fire got turned up when I found myself attending the Connecticut Trendspotting forum this Friday to talk about open source. Gotta be done 2NITE! Or 2morrow, at the butt-crack o’ dawn! Hence a lunchtime link-love post…

(Why can’t we give St. Patrick’s a makeover and turn it into “Talk Like a Leprechaun Day”? “Fer sure, me lad, I’ll be having a bit o’ that Candle Salad…”)

Reporters Without Borders has a global anti-censorship demonstration happening — a great project, and an amazing design. Found on Facebook through Rebecca MacKinnon’s page.

MPOW has just released its Facebook app. Very handy, very nice!

I may or may not go into this in more depth, but I gave up on my halfhearted efforts to improve the Wikipedia page about creative nonfiction. (Actually, some of my edits were very full-hearted.) I skimmed the page yesterday, planning to share it with someone, only to discover major chunks had been rewritten in a convoluted, unsprightly academic patois filled with phrases such as “constitutive characteristics” and references to “texts” (um, you do “texts” on cellphones, dude; for creative nonfiction, please use subgenre terms such as essay, portrait, memoir, or travel narrative, etc.). Ick!

Slate has produced this handy guide to writing fake memoirs. I’ll put that on the syllabus of my fake-lit class!

Scrolling LED name badge. Come on, you know you want one!

Slate’s discussion of Amazon’s top reviewers. Klausner reviews 45 books a week? O.k., that’s not credible.

If you didn’t catch Mark Bittman’s article, “Rethinking the Meat Guzzler,” it’s not only a good summary of current food politics, but it’s becoming part of my own philosophy — not quickly and not perfectly, but still, a personal trend. I’ll write more about this when I summarize how I approached Lent this year. It’s what I’m writing about a lot, too.

If you’re trying to find local/sustainable/seasonal food, Michael Pollan has this nice linkset.

Grandmother, tell me again about the year you fooled your editor, your publisher, and the New York Times

“There is no greater sin in war than ignorance. Never speak or act on anything you aren’t 100 percent sure of, or someone will expose your mistake and take you down for it.”

— ‘Margaret B. Jones’ [Margaret Seltzer], quoted in Michiko Kakutani’s review of Love or Consequences.


I’ve been frantic with post-travel recovery and a huge writing deadline, so I’m going to swoosh in on the whole Jones/Seltzer latest-lying-memoirist with some fractured pensees…The tizzy has been well-blogged many places, notably by writer/teacher Tayari Jones and writer/kibitzer Ron Hogan at Galleycat (n.b. Galleycat is a blog every self-respecting book-loving librarian should read and share with readers, because if there’s anything better than books, it’s gossip about books).

Following standard practice, the Times put its “editorial note” at the END of Mimi Reed’s paen to horse manure.”Oh, by the way, that stuff you just wasted a couple minutes of your life reading? Our bad, all lies!”

A few folks have commented on how easy it was to fool the largely-white, New-York-centric publishing industry keening to show “authentic” experiences (as in, whatever cultural stereotypes they believe are “authentic”).

I’d really like to read the book and see how fooled I am. Sure, it’s 50-50 hindsight, but are there flags a busy editor should watch out for? The professor who “vouched” for Jones/Seltzer doesn’t surprise me — it sounds as if Jones/Seltzer had her story pretty well in place by then, and professors aren’t fact-checkers, either. Imagine a strong writer with a heart-tugging story about her life among the homies… kind of blows away the competition.

Though as Galleycat pointed out, Seltzer’s home paper was “less credulous,” even canceling a piece it was going to run on March 2 after a key fact (Seltzer’s education) didn’t pan out.

Think about teaching an entire class in fake lit. Or better, teach half a class in fake lit, and half a class in real lit. Compare and discuss.

Did Jones/Seltzer not once consider she would be unearthed? I can see Frey thinking he’d get away with it — stretch a story here, stretch a description there, sort of like unwittingly eating your way through a box of chocolates — but Jones/Seltzer wholeheartedly confected the entire thing. Did she want to be discovered? Did she fear it? Both?

I’m fascinated by the sister who dropped a dime on Jones/Seltzer. I am curious about that relationship.

You know, this fact thingy isn’t just for nonfiction folks. If you’re going to write fiction and tell me that Easter comes three weeks after Christmas, I’m calling you on it. So here’s why every writing group needs a librarian: whether you write nonfiction or fiction, if we share work I’m-a gonna fact-check yo’ ass.

My Travel Schedule, March through June 2008

This is a bread-and-butter post to update people on my travel schedule for the next several months. Are you attending any of these events? Let’s do coffee/breakfast/lunch/dinner/cocktails!(At some point in this schedule I’m also taking a long weekend with Sandy to celebrate her birthday. We’re not sure where or when, but probably New York or San Francisco.)

March 26 – 28, Chapel Hill: NISO Discovery Tools Forum. All the talks look fascinating, but I’m intrigued by Ralph Levan’s Search Web Service talk, in part because we, the information professionals, have spent fifteen years not at all resolving the “search standard” issue (must everything we touch turn to mounds of whale blubber?), and the Big O may be on to something with its “non-prescriptive standard” approach. I’ll have a car. Where shall we dine Thursday night?

March 31 – April 3, Minneapolis: NCIP Working Group meeting (tentative). I hear there’s good Southeast Asian food in that area.

April 7 – 9, D.C.: Computers in Libraries. I haven’t pinned down my final-final flight plan, but I’ll be there on Tuesday for sure, honchoing a two-part session on OPACs, featuring the illustrious likes of such folks as Roy Tennant, Cindi Trainor, John Blyberg, and Kate Sheehan. The best part: all I have to do is say “Heeeere’s Johnny!” times 4!

April 11 – 14, Miami: IA Summit. With another lady from MPOW I’m going to get my bad self down with the information architecture peeps. The programs sound quite good, though the blurbs sometimes fall into unfortunate dotcommese (“Applying these considerations enables information architects to deliver content experiences that take full advantage of emerging opportunities online and the existing assets within their Web sites”). I have noticed that presenters at these uber-geek soirees rarely talk like this.

April 16 – 17, Dallas: Texas Library Association. (Ignore the conference program. I haven’t been a redhead since the late 1990s, and I haven’t worked in that job since 2001.) I’m in a “Great Debate” with Stephen Abram, Roy Tennant, and Joe Janes, introduced by James Stewart, who I know from a notorious vendor-funded bibliobacchanal (complete with private jet and swank resort) held in Minnesota at the finny point of the fin de siecle. I forget what the debate topic is — it was hard to find something we didn’t agree about, at least on paper — but I promise a Really Good Shew.

April 23 – 25, St Pete Beach, Florida: Florida Library Association. I am quite excited about this for three reasons: first, I’ve wanted to network with my Floridian bibliopeers; second, I get to meet my Florida Leadership Network mentee face-to-face (she’s building an amazing library-focused poetry blog — more about that when I do a link roundup); and finally, I get to do a 20″ dog-and-pony show at MPOW’s user update session. (I also get to visit a new place, and I mapped out a nifty coastal tour I hope to take.)

May 7 – 9, Atlanta: SOLINET Annual Member Meeting. I’m a bookend with my buddy, Michael Stephens!

May 22, Tampa Bay Library Consortium: Writing for the Web

June 26 – July 1, Anaheim: American Library Association conference.

August 7, SEFLIN: Writing for the Web.