Saturday, March 22, 2014

More advice and rainbows

To the best of my knowledge none of my array of managers are aware of this blog. This may be the greatest, and perhaps only, benefit of the fact that my blog readers (hi!) do not like to discuss my blog in any way, but prefer to hold it secretly to their hearts, like a terribly delicate magical treasure of inestimable value that can bear no light or noise.

"Oh, yes." I might say in conversation "I wrote about that just yesterday in my blog."

"Mmm." Says the person I'm talking to, almost inaudibly. Then they drop their voice even more "I read it." And then they excuse themselves immediately to go to a nice, quiet, darkish room where they can make sure everything is okay and illuminated and full of secret rainbows and all that.

Or so I picture it, but I'm pretty sure I'm right. Why, after all, would I load up my blog posts with so many secret rainbows if it weren't like this?  And when it comes to my bosses continuing to not read my blog this intense reticence is a very helpful quality. One can not pick up on the chatter in an environment of disciplined radio silence.

Nevertheless I would like to offer a small piece of advice to my managers who do not read this.

If you should happen to come up to the fiction section on some random errand and stumble upon me, theoretically shelving, but actually at that moment intently writing on small post it notes, you should recognize a delicate situation. When I look up, startled out of deepest reverie, you should say, with all the sincerity you can muster "I absolutely trust that everything you do here is ultimately of benefit to the library. Never ever worry, and please do carry on."

And I will say "Thank you."

And then you can say, very quietly so as not to frighten anyone "If you are by any chance writing a blog, I would love more than anything to read it. I would never say anything about it, but would keep it in private pleasure and illumination to myself."

And I will say "I think maybe you already read my blog?"

And then you can say so quietly that I cannot hear you "Mmm." And then "Thank you." And then hurry off to a nice, calm, darkish room where you can check to make sure all the secret rainbows are okay.

Which they are.


  1. Sometimes I read your blog to my 89 yr old mother and it is always a lovely experience for us both! Why won't she get herself online already? Can you crank up the volume on those rainbows and gamboling unicorns and such? This internet is not a library and it feels unfair to us for you to blur the two.

    1. I am completely delighted it is a lovely experience for you both with the aloud reading of my blog, which is by me, which I wrote. Me. Not to get carried away with being all pleased, but, yes, getting carried away a little. Do you think the Internet/Library thing could be cleared up some if I typed in all CAPS?

  2. Perhaps you might ride your art harder. Gallop it even! As I said, the internet is not a library and you need not worry about the hooves damaging the parquet floors and startling the quieted stacks.

    1. Well, here then: Every work of MAN that grows big begins to bury itself in shields. So on the one hand I say BAH! to the giant, insensible Internet, and draw in to an exotic purified smallness. But yes, let us go fast, let us go as fast as we can!


If you were wondering, yes, you should comment. Not only does it remind me that I must write in intelligible English because someone is actually reading what I write, but it is also a pleasure for me since I am interested in anything you have to say.

I respond to pretty much every comment. It's like a free personalized blog post!

One last detail: If you are commenting on a post more than two weeks old I have to go in and approve it. It's sort of a spam protection device. Also, rarely, a comment will go to spam on its own. Give either of those a day or two and your comment will show up on the blog.