Helen Jaeger wonders how the internet is changing our stories, and perhaps changing us.

We all love a good story. Great stories arouse emotion in us, connect us to one another and help us make sense of the world. They open up to us to new places – figuratively and imaginatively. A great story will take its readers or listeners on a journey that may challenge, stimulate, reassure – or do all three at the same time! Stories can speak in nuanced tones – with humour, pathos, tragedy and irony. That’s the joy of them.

So, I wonder, where are the real stories happening online? I’m not sure I’ve found them. Have you? In fact, some of the questions I have are these: does literary internet content help us to connect in the way that stories may have done in the past? What about the time it takes to hear a story, let alone construct one? Is it possible to go on a story-journey digitally, even communally, in the same way that it used to be?

Without being too doomy and gloomy about it, I wonder if, in this world of byte-sized information, we are beginning to experience ourselves as a bit bite-sized, too?!

had double macchiatto this morning ok c u l8tr met up with an old friend http://yfrog.com/abc3xyz watching awful #CelebShow btw finally listened to Arctic Monkeys on last.fm is glad school holidays are over coolest google chrome extension ever: http://bit.ly/95uc02 Am at The Dog and Dustbowl. http://4sq.com/9abhE with @jobloggs and @somerandomother RT Is the internet killing story-telling? “my quote of the day” lol

Instead of real stories, with their integral twists and turns, what I see at the moment are personal fragments and pieces, not a whole story-line with depth and rhythm and resonance to it. We get snapshots of stories – real or imagined – via blogs or  comments, on photostreams on Flickr or twitpic, a soundbite story through Facebook or on a website or  a texted thought at a particular time. To my ears, it’s a kind of staccato story-telling, requiring me to decipher the messages, a bit like morse code.

Can the digital medium lend itself to anything more concentrated, slower, more abstract or sophisticated?

Finally, I’m aware this line of questioning may make me sound like some techno-Luddite, which I’m not. Far from it! In fact, what started this train of thought was reading ‘Radical Amazement: Contemplative Lessons from Black Holes, Supernovas, and Other Wonders of the Universe’ via a Kindle for Android app on my smartphone (yes, really!).

But I still feel this vague unease…So, have you managed to find some true, thoughtful, creative digital story-telling yet – and if so, would you please mind telling me where? Thanks.

Links

1. Have just started to read: ‘The Shallows: how the internet is changing the way we think, read and remember’ by Nicholas Carr. Promises to look at this subject in a lot more depth.

2. Storytellers, get your fix with the UK Society of Storytellers. They say: ‘Storytelling is more than just performance or entertainment; it can also educate, heal, lead to better practice in business, inspire and change lives.’ And Amen to that!

Supported by Writing East Midlands.

Helen Jaeger is a social marketing consultant based in the UK. She works with charitiable and arts clients. She is an internationally published author, journalist and photographer. Her books are: As Night Falls, Paths Through Grief, As Day Dawns and A Treasury of Wisdom.

Helen Jager is breaking her reading rut. Why don’t you break yours?

I’ve been ill recently – I won’t bore you with the details – but one of the more curious symptoms of the affliction whilst laid up on my sickbed was a desire not to read the same old books I’d been in the habit of reading.

I don’t know about you, but my bookshelves tend to heave with the same genres of books – for me, books on marketing and journalism, fun creative stuff, a few slim volumes of poetry, collections of photography, a couple of autobiographies. In other words, books based in the real world. I don’t know why this is, since I have a degree in English, and, technically, fiction should share a larger slice of my bookshelf space.

Until I got ill, that is. Then, suddenly, I had an unholy desire to read ‘Wolf Hall’ – yes, that Wolf Hall, all 650 pages of Hilary Mantel’s masterpiece, and a 2009 Man Booker prize winner to boot. For a while, I was happily lost in the Tudor world of Cromwell and his politics, reveling in page-by-page phrasing such as ‘a wash of sunlight lies over the river, pale as the flesh of a lemon.’

Reading Mantel reminded me of the epiphany I’d had reading Tolkien’s ‘Lord of the Rings’ just a few years ago. I’d tried with Tolkien when I was at school – and failed. Finally, though, I had been ready for him. Again, like Mantel at times, it was like reading poetry in prose – skillful phrasing, adroit word play, and insightful descriptions – just a beautiful use of language. And in a book of fantasy fiction as well!

Does this mean I am a revert to fiction? An avid follower of every prize-giving literary event and list? Well, not quite. But it did remind me that it’s good, sometimes, to break out of any reading rut you may have got into, to try out something new, to stretch the mental and creative muscles in a different direction. Such explorations can refresh the mind and stimulate your own creativity.

So what do your bookshelves say about you? Are there one or two genres of literature that dominate? If you’re a die-hard blockbuster fan, why not try some pared-down poetry? Criminal fiction your thing? How about a gentler biography instead? I’m not saying you have to change your tastes in reading for the long-term, just that sometimes a change can be as good as, well, a rest. It certainly was for me.

Supported by Writing East Midlands.

Helen Jaeger is a social marketing consultant based in the UK. She works with charitiable and arts clients. She is an internationally published author, journalist and photographer. Her books are: As Night Falls, Paths Through Grief, As Day Dawns and A Treasury of Wisdom.

Helen Jaeger interviews a happy librarian, Jan Snow about the how libraries and librarians make a difference.

Jan Snow is my local librarian. We first met when she asked me to lead a writing workshop at the library, where she is Reader Development Librarian. I’ve been intrigued by the state of libraries in the recession and the age of the internet and whether they can truly thrive, so I thought Jan might be a good person to ask about the changes that are happening in my local library.

Jan has been a librarian since 1985, starting out at a community library in Basildon, where, she says, the focus was ‘entirely on outreach’ and with lots of work in schools. Three years later, Jan moved to a library in Warwickshire, which she says was ‘completely different.’

“The emphasis was on the library and staying in there. I found that a bit odd after being involved in outreach,” she explains

Having experienced both styles of being a librarian, however, Jan is still as passionate now about the library service as she was then.

“I think we’re essential, now more than ever,” she says. “We’re the gateway to so much. It’s not just about the building or about ‘just books.’ Part of our future is going to involve being more like a county service. We’ll be there to help people with information services and local services. People said e-books would kill books, but people still borrow books. I don’t see the internet as a threat. In a recession we’re an opportunity.”

Fortunately, Jan’s library is well-supported by the local council and its head of customer services, who oversees the libraries. Jan says her boss is a ‘visionary’, a person who sees libraries as an extension of excellent customer services. Jan agrees this is probably a change from the traditional ‘shush, you’re in the library now’ model, but thinks that isn’t a bad thing.

“When I look at where we are now, I feel very positive. We’ve had no library closures. The changes we’ve experienced have been to help us as librarians to be more free to help. I love being out and about with people.”

And, says Jan, the library is welcoming more people in, with new offerings such as a ‘knit and natter’ and craft clubs, with the library offering tea and biscuits at a cheap fee for groups.

“We’re trying to open our libraries to people and help them to say ‘this is our space, too,’” explains Jan.

Jan sees this as a direct extension of being a service to the community and hopes that it’s not just the library telling people what they think they want, but listening to the community’s needs as well.

“As well as being customer-focussed, we’re very much into the consultation – we’re keen to know what people want. We want to invite people to become friends of their local library,” says Jan. ” The old way was that public services were ‘done to you’. We want to move  on and listen to what people say. We need to create a service that people can question and influence.”

“I didn’t go into the library service to stand behind a desk and stamp books. I wanted to make a difference,” concludes Jan with a smile.

What do you think? Is your local library changing and do you see the changes as positive? Thoughts, comments, experiences welcome in the comm box.

Supported by Writing East Midlands

Helen Jaeger is a social marketing consultant based in the UK. She works with charitiable and arts clients. She is an internationally published author, journalist and photographer. Her books are: As Night Falls, Paths Through Grief, As Day Dawns and A Treasury of Wisdom.

Helen Jaeger shares her new year writing resolutions. How will you be rejuvenating your writing in the year to come?

It’s the New Year and I wonder if you’ve made any New Year’s resolutions – specifically new creative resolutions? I have. As a writer, I was woefully lax last year in keeping up any kind of writing discipline, which wasn’t either paid or public. For a fan of Dorothea Brande (more on her later), that’s not something to be proud of.

You see, I know, at heart, that my best writing (paid, public, just personally satisfying) comes when I nurture the hidden and secret art of writing. It’s like one of those Chelsea blooms or prize-winning marrows – grown in secret, away from the glare of public judgment and lavished with tender, loving care, my writing flourishes, finds new rhythm, colour and expansion.

Writers need this time away from the screen and audiences, away from blogs and tweets and the wonderful, new(ish) webby world of writers, with its glamorous press-the-button-and-publish-now enticements, just to sit and, well, write.

How do I know this? I wrote five books, fresh on the ideas that you have to:

1. feed the inner writer
2. be discplined about writing (no more waiting for Mr/Ms Unpredictable Muse to show up)
3. be kind to your writerly self and don’t let your inner editor jump too quickly.

These aren’t new ideas and I can’t really claim them for myself.

Feeding the inner writer is another way of treating him or her nicely – a concept Julia Cameron outlines in her seminal book, ‘The Artist’s Way‘. Here, Cameron states the necessity of setting aside a block of time, perhaps two hours weekly, for an ‘artist’s date’ (and yes, writers are artists).

The rules of the artist’s date are clear – no taggers-on, playful, not necessarily expensive, ring-fenced time: a chance to listen to and nurture your creative self. Cameron suggests a long walk, an expedition to the beach or forest, a visit to an exhibition or gig, lunch at a new cafe, even going bowling! It doesn’t have to link explicitly with your art. The aim is to listen to your inner creative or, as a good friend once said, ‘do what gives you life’.

So, where would your writerly self like to go and what would he/she like to do? Why not try an artist’s date this week?

My second resolution is to be more disciplined in my writing. Not in terms of more blogs/books/tweets/interviews. I am going back to the simple art of keeping a journal. Cameron recommends for me the practice of so-called ‘Morning Pages’.

Essentially, these are three pages of whatever-you-like first thing in the morning. Cameron says: “Nothing is too petty, too silly, too stupid or too weird to be included.”

The great thing, in my experience, about ‘Morning Pages’ is that the pressure’s off – you can just write. No one else is going to see or comment, your grammar can be terrible, your handwriting appalling, your cartoon characters laughable – but, here’s the thing – it loosens you up.

Like muscles you use regularly, ‘Morning Pages’ stretch you, strengthen your creativity, make you supple. Whenever I’m in the throes of a serious commitment to ‘Morning Pages’, every other bit of writing flows more easily, as if my fingers and brain know what they need to do.

‘Morning Pages’ echo two truths other writers know. The first is discipline. We’re still attracted, as writers, to the Romantic myth of the Muse who Visits Us. But, whilst working as a journalist for an international charity, I was confronted by this question, ‘did I want to Muse to visit me or did I want to go home at 5pm?’.

Clearly I wanted to go home at a reasonable time having done my work – but, I also wanted inspirational copy. My great revelation was that the two are not exclusive.

“There is another element to the writer’s personality. It is adult, discriminating, temperate and just. It is the side of the artisan, the workman and the critic, rather than the artist. It must work continually with and through the emotional and childlike side, or we have no work of art.”

- Dorothea Brande, a New York writer and editor , author of cult classic ‘Becoming a Writer‘ (1934). Dorothea taught me that being disciplined is part of the writer’s personality, as is being artistic. It’s a matter of separating the two, so they can work in harmony.

This is an idea spelt out by the contemporary, Natalie Goldberg. Struggling to start my first book, a friend serendipitously handed me ‘Writing down the bones‘. Goldberg, like Cameron and Brande, identifies two parts of the brain – the creative and the editor. To work harmoniously, each must do their work for a time uninterrupted by the other.

I found this worked perfectly and raced through my first manuscript, writing three hours a day listening to trance dance. My inner editor was happy to come along later, fuelled by best Colombian coffee, to tweak, make suggestions and shape the words. ‘Morning Pages’, the artist’s date and a respect for discipline made it all possible.

So, what do you find useful for your writing? Resolutions? Tips in the comments, if you like.

And, P.S., eagle-eyed readers will realise I more often blog about libraries. Guess what? I broke my own rules and covered ‘The Creative Process’ in a library workshop. A great experience 

Supported by Writing East Midlands.

Helen Jaeger is a social marketing consultant based in the UK. She works with charitiable and arts clients. She is an internationally published author, journalist and photographer. Her books are: As Night Falls, Paths Through Grief, As Day Dawns and A Treasury of Wisdom.

THIS CONTENT ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE LITERATURE NETWORK. http://literaturenetwork.org (Digital Fingerprint:
663geteyhevfw5673gferw56e3feg (38.107.191.98) ) ]]> http://literaturenetwork.org/2010/01/new-year-new-writing-you/feed/ 7 http://literaturenetwork.org/2009/08/in-praise-of-real-books/ http://literaturenetwork.org/2009/08/in-praise-of-real-books/#comments Fri, 21 Aug 2009 08:59:24 +0000 HelenJaeger http://literaturenetwork.org/?p=1529

Books can be more than just bound paper, they can be a home to our memories and emotions. Will e-books ever manage the same?

The book is covered in a kind of worn, burgundy weave, with gold inlay, marking out the words: ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and underneath ‘Jane Austen.’ Apart from a restrained, curly pattern above and below the words (which appear only on the spine), the book is sumptuously plain – if worn.

Inside, an old and flimsy flyleaf clings stubbornly to the cardboard cover. The books falls open at random pages: the worn spine, first, then page 233, which is a black and white line drawing on a slightly heavier, more glossy stock, before stopping at a limp page near the end (‘Ooh, Mr Darcy.’) Inside the front cover, spidery handwriting in dark-blue fountain pen traces out the words: Gertrude Norton, 1956.

This book belonged to my paternal grandmother, now dead. She died in the same week the Berlin wall came falling down. I remember, because I was watching the news when the call came to my student house. Just like I remember holding that same book in my hands, lying on my bed, cramming for finals exams a year later. A year after my father had handed me a box full of burgundy books, all like this one, all classics, all inscribed by my grandmother’s teacherly hand: Gertrude Norton, followed by the date.

It was my grandmother who taught me to read and to understand. She, who unlocked the way to understand a book and answer questions intelligently about writing. My brother and I were sent to study at ‘grandma’s house’ for an hour a day, one long, hot  80s summer. My mother, who also learnt as a child under my grandmother’s tutelage (another story), was convinced it would ‘help our education’ – or, perhaps, Mum just wanted to get my unruly brother and me out of the house for a few moments of peace and quiet.

But she was right, my mother. A year after that dreary and dull drill in comprehension, I shot to the top of my class in English – and stayed there for the next ten years, including for my finals. Now I work as a writer, in part, and the thread to my grandmother continues.

It’s funny, how a book can evoke such a memory. How visceral it can be – to hold a book in your hands and open yourself to its memories. Do I hold these memories at the forefront of my mind day-to-day? No. Do they come flooding back when I pick up this book? Yes.

And so, as e-books and e-readers, Kindle and Nintendo, itunes and amazon downloads battle it out for my literary attention, I want to pause for a moment and celebrate the humble book. In praise of books, here are just a few things you can do with a book that you can’t do with an e-book:

Give it to a friend
Scribble in the margin
Put your mug of tea of top of it
Prop up a wobbly chair leg
Read it on an aeroplane
Give it away to charity
Never worry about its battery life
Mark and personalise it
Make an art collage with it
Zap a fly with it
Fold over the pages
Practise your new signature in it
Satisfyingly trash it, if you violently disagree with it (sorry, Sartre)
Lose it cheaply
Take it to the back of beyond
Photocopy a page you like
Nap behind it
Pose in a café with the title in view

Am I a techno-Luddite? Not at all. I love my netbook with its wi-fi and mobile broadband. I secretly lust after an iPhone. And yes, I obsessed over Professor Layton on the DS, right after my son thrashed me at golf on the new Wii.

But there is one final area where the humble paper book trumps the e-book… If this UK rain ever lets up – you can take a book on the beach.

What do you think? Are books superior to their electronic cousins or should we be going paperless in everything we do? What can do with a book that you can’t do with an e-book (or vice versa)?

Supported by Writing East MIdlands

Helen Jaeger is a social marketing consultant based in the UK. She works with charitiable and arts clients. She is an internationally published author, journalist and photographer. Her books are: As Night Falls, Paths Through Grief, As Day Dawns and A Treasury of Wisdom.

What’s the best library in the world? Here are my top three inspirational places. What’s your view?

Number one: the British Library.

Where: London, UK. A mere five minutes’ walk from the revamped St Pancras International station.

When: as a rough guide, everything is open 10am-5pm. Best to check the website for up-to-date opening times on Exhibitions/Galleries/Shop and Reading Rooms’ hours, as times do vary slightly.

Why: the British library receives a copy of every publication produced in the UK and Ireland – 3 million new items are added every year. The library keeps manuscripts, maps, newspapers, magazines, prints, drawings, music scores, patents and even stamps. Incredibly, the library is growing by 12 km every year simply due to new stock! Nearly 400,000 people use the Reading Rooms annually.

Vital stats: 14 million books (that’s almost one per four people of the UK population); 920,000 journal and newspaper titles; 58 million patents; 3 million sound recordings.

What makes it hot: as well as housing the biggest collection of material in the UK, including treasures such as the original Magna Carta, Lindisfarne Gospels, a da Vinci notebook and the Beatles’ manuscripts, the British Library runs a creative programme of public events, drawing from its impressive collection in imaginative and unusual ways. Their events never disappoint. You can also walk to lunch at the British Museum nearby.

Check the website for online galleries, images, information, what’s on, email newsletters and shop. www.bl.uk

Number two: Picture Book Art Museum / 絵本美術館　まどのそとのそのまたむこう

Where:  Iwaki City, Fukushima Prefecture, Japan. The Picture Book Art Museum houses a private picture-book collection belonging to the preschool that owns the museum. General public can apply to visit on weekday afternoons.

When: Designed by renowned Japanese architect, Tadao Ando, the concete and glass building opened in 2005. There are spectacular panoramic views of the Pacific ocean from almost anywhere in the library. A 1,500 picture-book wall and a cushioned loft space are also attractions.

Why: A library dedicated to picture books for children in a beautiful natural setting – it sits on a hilltop near a lighthouse! The museum was the dream of one Japanese teacher.

Vital stats:  Books are arranged by theme – eg ‘dog’, ‘cat’, ‘Christmas’, ‘Winter’. The collection includes both Japanese and foreign books, as well as older books and a heritage copy of Aesop’s fables. There are multiple copies of books for children to share and enjoy. Views of the ocean include passing shipping. Bookstore.

What makes it hot: A library full of pictures books! Plus, the emphasis on visual brilliance extends well into the fabric of the building. Sort of like reading on the beach, but peacefully.

“In this library bright colours and funny forms surround you everywhere. An atmosphere of playfulness, not awe or indoctrination, is the hallmark of this new paradigm of educational facility; it is new in content and new in outer form”, sums up one rapt reviewer in East-Asia Architecture (scroll to 2006 April ‘Paradigm Shift in Education’ for pics and descrips).

Google  絵本美術館　まどのそとのそのまたむこう for more info.

Number three: The Royal Library, Denmark, notably the ‘Black Diamond‘.

Where: by the waterfront, Copenhagen, Denmark.

When: The Royal Library has facilities for the public at four locations across Copenhagen. Opening hours vary depending on what’s on offer. It’s best to check the website before you go or use the beguilingly simple ‘Ask the library‘ service.

Why: Cutting-edge design by Danish architects, Schmidt Hammer Lassen, gives this library extension its unique aesthetic. The ‘Black Diamond’ refers to an outside cover of black granite and its form of two cubes. The distinctive outer shape is a taste of things to come, with intriguing inner spaces and walkways. This is traditional library meets high-class art gallery and concert hall.

Vital stats: The Royal Library is the national library of Denmark. It contains the first Danish book, printed in 1482. King Frederik III, who started with a collection of European works, founded the library in 1648.  Local boys Soren Kerkegaard and Hans Christian Anderson are rightly honoured.

What makes it hot: The suave architecture is a visual clue to the library’s sophisticated contents. A programme of literary dialogues takes place within the Black Diamond on a bespoke ‘International Author’s Stage‘. The programme features some of the best and up-and-coming global writing talent in conversation. 2009 highlights include Gunter Grass, Salman Rushdie, Ben Okri, Julia Franck and Alaa al-Aswany. There’s also an exhibition programme. Like going to the Tate plus reading.

Just missing the top three:

Cerritos, the ‘Experience Library’, California USA, houses ‘Stan‘, a 40-foot long 12-foot high Tyrannosaurus rex replica. There’re also a 15,000- gallon saltwater aquarium, plus large Banyan tree and a Skydome that cycles through day/night every 20 minutes. Laptop stations (i.e. take your own) plus wireless headsets make this place user-friendly and there’s an energetic programme for teens. It’s Rainforest cafe meets literature.

Supported by Writing East Midlands

Have you visted any of the libraries above? Have I missed out your favourite? What do you think? Feel free to add your comments!

In credit-crunch times libraries are a natural destination for people feeling pinch, so lets get the word out!

I was in my local library the other day and noticed a section on credit-crunch books. The thoughtful library staff had gathered together a bunch of books, such as ‘Start your own business: week by week‘ and ‘The Thrift Book: live well and spend less‘ to help people who are struggling as a result of the recession.

‘What a great idea’, I thought to myself. Swiftly followed by, ‘Why doesn’t the library advertise these fantastic resources?’ Was there even a humble poster in the window advertising the selection of this cross-section of up-to-date, ever so helpful books? No, not even one.

It’s a fair point and one, no doubt, that I’ll keep coming back to. Namely: how poorly libraries sell their services. Libraries are full of free information.  These books cost nothing to borrow – unless you lose them behind the sofa (but at least mine wasn’t, ahem,  almost 145 years overdue). Many library lends are the up-to-date, latest must-haves. These books of fact or fiction would set you back, on avaerage, around a tenner per tome in that government-pseudo-library-model, Waterstones (for example).

We may have a view that libraries are stuffy, old, dusty places, full of out-of-print books (although great if you are after a rare read). However, every time I step into my library, I find myself saying ‘What?! I didn’t realise they had THAT (insert: top ten best-seller) book here!’

I can’t understand why libraries aren’t shouting more about the books they do have. ‘Check us out!’ they could proclaim. ‘We have Delia Smith’s ‘Frugal Food’, Julia Cameron’s ‘The Artist’s Way’, Dan Brown’s ‘Da Vinci Code’, Howard Jacobson’s ‘No More Mr Nice Guy’, Jodi Picoult’s ‘My Sister’s Keeper’, Alexander McCall Smith’s ‘Tea Time for the Traditionally Built’ -  as well as all the Dostoyevsky and Shakespeare you expect! Plus for the kids, how about Harry Potter, Terry Pratchett or one of those super-scary books on insects? What’s more, you can take them away for the price of… NOTHING! And, as an added bonus, if we haven’t got it, we’ll even try to find it for you!’

There should be posters in library windows robustly going head-to-head with local, commercial book-sellers and also the internet. Libraries could claim that they can’t be beaten on price – because they can’t. Even a £0.00 book on Amazon will set you back £2.75 for the postage and it’s unlikely the bargain bin at WH Smiths would have books going for nothing. Even World Book Day asks you to cough up an accompanying pound.

So why aren’t libraries muscling in on the competition in these credit-crunched times? Isn’t this a golden opportunity to attract new members, encourage the luke-warm and embrace long-standing ones? Why aren’t we seeing more ‘Books – Free to all’ posters going up? Is it a lack of confidence, a lack of imagination or – do we just forget that libraries are a wonderful, old service created by a philanthropic age that wanted to see education and the joy of reading open to all?

There was an interesting comment in my last post here. Damien G Walter lauded libraries for ‘providing learning opportunities to the poorest and most vulnerable in our communities’. Libraries came into being with the noble aim of helping financially-strapped people access good books.

Before libraries were publicly-funded and opened to all in the 1850s, they were more of a subscription-based service to the literati in need. (Extra fascinating information here.) With the hard-won Public Libraries Act all that began to change. Libraries were now essentially free – with a little help from Victorian philanthropists.

Today we can walk into a library, armed only with a membership card, and choose any selection of books to take home and read. What books would you not have read and enjoyed without your local library? How many writers and poets would remain still-dormant talents without access to the wide range of reading made possible by libraries?

Perhaps Andrew Carnegie and Henry Tate weren’t aiming to ensure that I could curl up with Russell Brand’s ‘Booky Wook’ or cook ‘trashy ham in coke‘ from Nigella Bites (my latest borrowings). But the £20 I’ve surely saved on these books can be used, in our credit-crunch times, to buy food, clothing, light or electricity. Surely that’s in keeping with the generous, founding spirit of the libraries service?

It may well be that there’s no such thing as a free lunch – but there is such a thing as a free book (well, almost free). And you can find it in any library near you.

Cliff Notes on the Public Libraries Act here for those that want them.

Supported by Writing East Midlands

Helen Jaeger is a social marketing consultant based in the UK. She works with charitiable and arts clients. She is an internationally published author, journalist and photographer. Her books are: As Night Falls, Paths Through Grief, As Day Dawns and A Treasury of Wisdom.

I don’t go to my library for coffee. I go for books and silence. So why are our libraries changing ?

The future of UK libraries has long been debated. A government push for community involvement – think Idea Store, London UK – means fewer books and reduced quiet. So is this a good thing ?

If you’re familiar with the arguments around current library management or if you’re a professional librarian with clear views,  feel free to skip ahead. For others wanting a quick heads-up, here it is. In October last year, Andy Burnham , the Secretary of State for Culture, launched a consultation on the changing face of libraries, which he believes are out of touch. (The full text of his speech to the Public Libraries Association is here.) According to this report in the Independent, the Right Hon Mr Burnham, is reputed to have said:

‘Libraries could install coffee franchises, book shops and film centres. Noise bans will also be reviewed.’

Adding:

‘The popular public image of libraries as solemn and sombre places, patrolled by fearsome and formidable staff is decades out of date, but is nonetheless taken for granted by too many people.’

(Tho’ I find the 50s fashion of Mad Men and the old PR stereotype of a bun-haired Dewey Decimal Dominatrix kind of fun).

What’s more, a Department of Culture Media and Sport flack says the Government wants to transform the atmosphere of libraries to make them ‘more similar to Waterstone’s stores’. (It’s a one-way crush. Ex-Waterstone’s boss heavily criticised the lack of book-buying by libraries and its ‘management by technophilies’ back in 2005.)

Regardless of the media ranting (Evening Standard, Daily Mail and a random Guardian blogger for example), or a love-in about the changes (OK, the BBC was neutral-ish), I’m not sure which part of Waterstone’s brand the Department would like libraries to emulate?

One obvious difference between the two is that Waterstone’s is a shop: it sells books. Libraries are a service: they lend books. The only common denominator seems to be… the books. To compare libraries and Waterstone’s may be similar to saying fish should be like frogs – because they both like water.

But, wait a minute, Marketing Weekly does say:

‘Most [Waterstone's] stores are pleasant and well laid out with themed areas such as ‘kiddies corner’ and coffee lounges in the larger stores. The books are clearly and logically categorised. The staff are generally pleasant, knowledgeable and passionate about books.’

Here’s the rub. Name two things you go to the library for.

Books and silence, maybe? In marketing terms, these are what are known as the USP of a product or service – its Unique Selling Point – or Core Values. In a brand-saturated world, companies fall over themselves to identify or create USPs. Libraries already have a USP. And what are they doing with it?

The problem is: I don’t go to a library for coffee – I go to a cafe; I don’t go to a library for community classes – I go to the community centre; I don’t even go to the library for a lecture – I go to college; And I don’t go to the library for joyful chatter. Finally, if I want Waterstone’s, guess what? I go to Waterstone’s.

Not only will libraries now have to change the core of their service, they’ll have to advertise it effectively, too. That’s double the work. What’s more, changes are coming to a library near me soon. Or two libraries to be precise. Yes, I am unashamedly nostalgic about the libraries of my youth – quiet, warm, cosy places for reading, writing, thinking and daydreaming. So if I want peace and quiet and a good, free book now, I go to… er, can someone, please, suggest somewhere?

Supported by Writing East Midlands

Helen Jaeger is a social marketing consultant based in the UK. She works with charitiable and arts clients. She is an internationally published author, journalist and photographer. Her books are: As Night Falls, Paths Through Grief, As Day Dawns and A Treasury of Wisdom.