My car? a roomier version of a purse or backpack Front seat holds a stack of new books I've got first dibs, but only if I can't find kids who want to read them first
Folded windshield sunshades (needed all year in Texas) stuffed between said seat and console where there's a stack of empty gift cards a prayer card a green rosary S. made two years ago a work badge on a floral pink lanyard
On the back seat floorboard rests a recycled grocery tote bag full of recycled grocery tote bags another bag still holds black velvet flats a blue tulle skirt white tights a black satin sash black leather sneakers and a long, blonde wig from last month's comic con event
Somewhere underneath those bags is a black drawstring backpack donning a half marathon logo eight years past a rolled up yoga mat three pairs of sunglasses
In the way back sit three bags of outgrown clothes (mine) meant for a thrift store I pass every day on my way home remembering they're back there as I pass the light
I have a trio of girls who pop in most days at 1:50. Friday, I worked the realistic fiction section. New books arrived and shelf space is tight. Plus, there are titles older than the girls that must go. They asked about the plethora of books spilling over the book cart.
“What do you do with them?”
I explained the process of offering them to other libraries in our district. After that, I offer them to classroom teachers. Some go to our Pop Up Library for summer reading. These three are voracious readers.
“Mind if we take a peek?”
“Go right ahead.”
The pull of the puzzle they had been working on was stronger. “Maybe Monday. We have plenty of books checked out right now.”
We discussed books that were mis-labeled. “Yeah, Mrs. Garza, just look at that cover. It definitely belongs in the romance section.” They continue with the puzzle. I continue pulling books for consideration. Do they stay? Do they go? What’s the copyright date? When was the last time they were checked out? I set aside the mis-labeled books. I’ll get to them later.
Today, I went through the pile. I happened to be working on them when a student from the yearbook class needed help identifying students for the yearbook’s library page. Sure enough, it’s the trio. I confirmed names and made sure each name matched the correct person. Almost on cue, they walked in and I had them check the photo. The yearbook student finished up and went back to class.
“Can we make Taylor Swift bracelets today?” They all nod in agreement.
I’m keeping them posted on the books in question from Friday. I hold up one book with an old-ish looking cover. “Last call. Any of you want to read this?”
“I’ll take it,” one replies.
“It’s on the old side,” I warn.
“It’s okay. If it’s a romance, I’ll probably like it.”
I hand check it out and hand it over. I pull it up to investigate more details about the book, And Both Were Young. “Wait, did you see it’s by Madeleine L’Engle? She’s the author of…”
“A Wrinkle in Time! I loved that book.”
“Really? I’ve broken up with that book so many times. I couldn’t get past the Mrs. Whatsit and all the others. The Mrs. for the characters drove me crazy. Of course, it’s a form of respect for adults, so that’s how people were addressed even if they weren’t your teachers, but I just couldn’t ever finish that book. And the tuna fish sandwich. They make tuna fish sandwiches in the story and I can just smell it, why couldn’t it be a pbj?”
“Mrs. Garza, you didn’t read it just because of a tuna fish sandwich?”
“Well, yeah, I guess so. I tried reading it so many times because people said how great it was. I tried reading it to my fourth graders years ago. They zoned out, so we didn’t finish it. I took my daughter to watch the movie, the one with Oprah, and she wanted a copy of the book. We got one with an updated cover. I started reading it to her and then she just took off with it and finished it on her own. To this day I have yet to read it.”
“You should try again.”
“I think I will. Let me know how that one is when you’re done though.”
They continue with their bracelet making. I pitch another romance book and check it out to another girl. Then I take a look at all of Madeleine L’Engle’s books.
I will try again, maybe over a tuna fish sandwich.
Eleven year old me only read it once or twice. It might have been the library’s copy. Maybe it was my then bff’s tattered copy. I read it and I loved it. That’s how I traveled to New York. I went to confession with Margaret for the first time. That’s how I found out about other religions. Seriously. I didn’t know details about Christianity and Judaism, I just knew they were different. I didn’t know people argued about such things, especially the adults. I also had friends who seemed to know a lot more than seemed knowable at the age of eleven.
I organized a small watch party for the movie this past weekend. Adults only, until my thirteen year old invited herself. Okay. This is rare. I bought another ticket.
The movie theater wasn’t full, but it was one of those that reminds you to turn off your phone and remain silent or you risk getting kicked out. When movie Margaret takes a walk in her neighborhood, I yelled out “It’s HER!” as if she was there with me. Judy Blume. Being a sucker for fangirling over authors, I can imagine what I’d do if I met her in person.
Then came “I must, I must, I must increase my bust!” Except now, my chant has changed the word increase to decrease. In true book nerd form, there we were, chanting and doing said exercise along with a bunch of pre-pubescent girls on the big screen, laughing. Go ahead, try kicking out a bunch of hormonal middle-aged women.
Memories of enjoying this book took us back in time. If this movie would’ve been around back then, would I have enjoyed it in the same way? Would I have read the book? Our post-flick discussion had us telling stories of our own initiation into womanhood. Some are funny, some terrifying, but they all tie us together. Just like a good book.
Are you still there Judy? It's me, Ally. I know you're there. I know you would've made sure this movie was made the way you wrote it. I wouldn't have missed it for anything and I'll gladly watch it infinity times. Thank you, Judy. Thanks a ton...
Ever find that secret little spot unexpectedly? I found one last summer, a secret garden* of sorts, tucked into a cul-de-sac in my neighborhood. I visited agin this morning.
Monday, we took a day trip to a book store I had been eyeing. Local book shops are my favorite spaces because they’re full of charm and quiet energy.
Within walking distance from our lunch spot, we visited Fabled Bookshop and Cafe in Waco, Tx. Upon entering, Aesop the Owl welcomed us with a tip of his hat. The book cases, dark and cozy, held the usual sorts of books. Shelf talkers, scripted by employees introducing people to their next great read, persuaded me to choose them from the shelf, if not add them to my TBR list.
I always like to check out the kid’s section even though my youngest is thirteen. She upgraded to the YA section, but the lure of kid lit always draws me in at least to take a peek.
I didn’t find it, but my daughter did. I gasped in excitement, so much as to cause her embarrassment even though the two year old writhing away from her mom trying to read her a picture book on the blue velvet couch barely noticed us.
Faux fur coats hung neatly in a built-in wardrobe. We parted the coats on the rack, and sure enough, there’s a door! Is it real? Does it open or is it just for show?
She hunches down, pushes the door, and sure enough, it opens to the other side, the YA section, of all places. As she makes her way through, a group of college aged kids are on the other side, hunched down, making their way in.
“Come on in! The White Witch is gone and Mr. Tumnus has hot tea waiting for us,” I playfully say in my best Lucy voice.
“Oh, yes, we shall come in!” Through the door they enter the kid’s section.
Nerds Beget Nerds 