Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Is it just me or is Josie getting…naughtier? Bolder? More brazen? Pretty sure it’s not just me—it’s her, turning up the heat.
I’m feeling the burn in the dark of the quiet jet, streaking across the sky. Here, it’s like no man’s land, free of consequences, devoid of risk. A place where we can flirt because of the miles between us. So I tap out a reply.
Wesley: Bet I still “read” like that.
Josie: You’d keep me up all night?
Wesley: Like a page-turner, Josie. Like a fucking page-turner.
26
THE SAME SPACE PROBLEM
Josie
I have reached peak librarian awesomeness. I am officially better than an algorithm, and Amazon has nothing on me as I update our Your Next Five Reads list with fresh recommendations.
It’s an extra thing I wanted to do, and so far, the digital initiative has been a success. It’s a new service I’ve set up during the last few weeks—something we’ve been promoting on the branch’s website since then. Patrons submit their favorite books and top authors, telling us what they liked, and then add what they might be in the mood to read next.
We—usually me—write back within a few hours with five recommendations of books, either paperback, digital, or audio, and explain why we think they’ll like them.
It’s a mood reader’s dream, and I review the final one I worked on today, checking each rec. Yep, these look good. Feeling like a smarty-pants in the best of ways, I hit the send button when a flurry of papers flies my way.
I jerk my gaze away from the computer screen.
Of course.
A giant Siamese has landed on the counter, sending pages soaring as he gives zero fucks. I grab the papers, sorting them as Raccoon stretches his humongous body across the keyboard, belly up and carefree.
“You bad boy. You knocked everything off the counter,” I say, chiding him, but he doesn’t respond to criticism, being a cat and all.
Thalia’s at the other end of the desk here on the second floor. “It’s no use,” she says, popping up from her chair to wander my way. “He’s above it all.”
“Clearly,” I say, looking down at the creature relaxing shamelessly on the keyboard. “He’s trying to lure me now with his big sexy routine.”
“Ah, I see you’ve learned his trick.”
“Yes! He does this long, languid stretch where he offers his sleek belly, ostensibly for petting. But if you touch him there on the very belly he’s offering, he will strike.”
“He’s a touch-me-and-die cat,” she says nonchalantly, scratching Raccoon’s chin, the one acceptable zone on this cat for petting. “So sweet.”
“And yet I’ll miss him,” I say, then wince, wishing I could take those vulnerable words back. I shouldn’t be putting sad vibes out in the air. I wasn’t hired for this temporary job to talk to my boss about how much I’ll miss this place when I finish the contract in seven weeks, but who’s counting?
Thalia gives me a sympathetic look. “This place is addictive,” she says.
But that’s all. She doesn’t add hey, how about I pry open our budget and hire you for a permanent gig? You’re the city’s most awesome new digital specialist librarian.
“It is,” I say brightly.
“Drinks this week with the crew? We’re doing Thursday night this time,” she says, shifting to another topic all together. “And we’re going to add trivia this week.”
“Book trivia?” There is nothing worse than librarians trying to best each other with book knowledge. It’s like a battle royale of the nerds, and no piece of information is left un-hurled at your rival.
“Please,” she scoffs. “We do pop culture. Sports. Music. That sort of thing, so it’s more challenging. We need it to be hard.”
“I’m in. Librarians like it hard after all,” I add, then realize the full weight of the innuendo in the statement.
Thalia sees it too, tilting her head in approval, then tapping her wine-colored nails against the counter. “That ought to be on a sticker, girl,” she says, then heads off in a swish of flowy magenta skirt and jingly bracelets.
Come to think of it, that’s not a bad idea. Maybe I could become a sticker queen and stay in San Francisco on the riches I’ll amass as I peddle a line of cheeky librarian sayings.
Meet me in the stacks.
Let’s do it on the reference desk.
Dewey Decimal to me all night long.
I have a free minute so I google the price of cute stickers, then the best fonts for stickers, then where to sell stickers. But soon enough, I sigh, vanquished already by practical matters. There’s just not a big enough market for naughty librarian stickers.
I take off my glasses for a second to pinch the bridge of my nose, since studies show ideas flow faster when you pinch your nose. Oh! I’ve got it! What if I can win another grant from The Violet Delia Foundation for Library Digital Empowerment? Thalia would probably say nice things about me to the non-profit. Maybe they’d crack open the coffers and fund this position for longer? I could look for other grants too, but most grants in my field fund professional development for librarians, not their salaries. This is a rare one. But if I can prove I’m a unicorn…