The red bow-tie pinched at my neck,

the tuxedo jacket too bulky, and

the cummerbund refused to latch.

The manager changed her mind.

Ditching the jacket and sash she

fitted me with a black apron instead.

I was ushered behind the counter.

The smell of popcorn and butter

filled the lobby. And mingled with the paint fumes.

The counters gleamed under the florescent lights,

the glass display stocked full with candy.

The floors were smooth and hard against my tailbone.

Opening night was coming and

there was still so much to learn.

Most important was the butter powder to salt ratio.

I was instructed on how to change the syrup for the pop dispensers

and how much ice to give the guest.

I also learned that hot dogs should not be purple.

I was lucky.

My first real job and

it came with free popcorn and movies.

It was new and exciting.

And like the closing credits

those feelings soon faded.

We are the keepers of knowledge.

Our history stretches from the scrolls in Alexandria

To the tables under the Jefferson dome.

For more information see 027.

Some call us dinosaurs,

we say the dinosaurs are in 567.9.

Unlike the dinosaurs, we embrace change.

Have you seen 376 lately?

Sounds of laughter and music from J 811

now mingles with the quiet whispers

from study tables piled high

with books from 378.1664.

The sun bathes the room in light where once dim.

You can see the change if you linger in 725 and 727.

Even our grounds have become more exciting,

thanks to 712 and sometimes 635.

But what good is a temple of knowledge without guides?

We are still there, but you may not recognize us.

Gone are the tight buns from 646.72

and the stern looks over half-moon spectacles.

We’re rarely behind a desk.

Instead we’re helping Mr. Song with his new iphone in 004.

Or at the computer helping Mrs. Clark create a resume,

with some help from 650.14.

Or we could be caring for caterpillars.

Butterfly lifecycles are in J 595.789

Or we’re helping Hunter find the right book

He loved the book on Musashi Miyamoto – we think he will like 952.

We could be speaking with Miss Miller

in hushed voices in 616.994.

And before she leaves we may steer her towards 816

because sometimes you need a good laugh.

We’re not just a building of books.

We are a building bursting with questions about the world.

Sometimes we don’t have the answer to your question,

but we will keep searching and asking until we find it for you.

We are a community,

always growing, always seeking knowledge, and always changing.

Well, there is one thing that hasn’t changed.

We still have our cardigans.

You can learn how to make your own in 746.432 !

     One of the perks of being a book nerd, who also happens to work in a library, means there are always opportunities to get together with other book nerds to talk about…wait for it…books. Books have always been popular, but with the social media explosion, authors have become more accessible to their fans. Prior to the popularity of blogs and youtube the only way to read your favorite author’s work before anyone else was to be in the industry. The new authors of today are more savvy than the authors a generation ago and they know how to market themselves to their fans. Which is where BookCon, the public offshoot of Book Expo America (BEA), comes into play. BookCon has only been around for three years and has already tripled in size with the hottest authors vying for a panel spot or their own booth. Because it is so new the majority of the authors belong to the Young Adult or Middle Grade genres, whereas the Adult Fiction and Non-Fiction authors stick with the industry exclusive BEA. Normally I would lean towards attending BEA because of my job and my side project as a book blogger. But this year was a little different since this wasn’t a regular business trip. My best friend Fallon and I decided to plan a mini-graduation trip to Chicago, which “coincidently” was where BEA and BookCon were being held this year. The only thing left was to decide which event to attend, a decision that should not be taken lightly. So naturally I scanned the author lists for both events to see who had more authors on my “Must Meet” and “Would Like to Meet” lists. While I was looking at the author list for BookCon one name jumped out: Ann M. Martin. As the author of The Babysitter’s Club and numerous other Middle Grade books, Ann M. Martin is at the top of my “Authors I Must Meet” list. So with my decision made all that remained was to save up some money and finish school. But sometimes things don’t always go as planned and whenever Ann M. Martin is involved nothing ever goes according to plan.

     It was a few weeks before graduation and everything was going well. I was on target with my savings, I was doing a decent job meeting my deadlines for work and school, and my dad confirmed he could take my kids for the weekend of our trip. Then Fallon called and popped my happy balloon. She called to tell me we needed to postpone or cancel our trip. Her idiot, selfish, asshole of a husband spent the money she had saved for our trip on Iron Maiden tickets, in Chicago, a month before our planned trip. This isn’t the first time he had sabotaged our plans, but it was the first time I ever felt like physically harming him. Actually, that’s a lie, I feel like hitting that guy at least once a month. I was angry, I was upset, and I called my husband to complain.

     My husband tried to comfort me but he felt the need to make the connection between our trip getting canceled and that Ann M. Martin was one of the guests. You see there is possibly another reason for our failed trip. One that doesn’t involve the idiocy of my friend’s husband. In fact he may be a cog in the machines of fate. My husband calls this theory the Ann M. Martin Curse.

    How can a beloved children’s author be a curse? Ms. Martin herself may not be the curse but there must be something in the cosmos that prevents us from meeting. But first a little back story. It’s not an exaggeration when I say that Ann M. Martin and her Babysitter’s Club series saved me when I was a kid. It started after kindergarten when my parents had split up. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy my parents divorced, the tension in the house during the last year of their marriage was unbearable but after the divorce the air in the house felt lighter and my parents became better people.  

    Although my home life improved, the divorce caused other problems. During the 1980s in Ohio it was still uncommon to have divorced parents. There were some parents that refused to let their children to play with my brother and I. It hurt. Kids who I had been friends with since I was three were forced to tell me that they weren’t allowed to play with me anymore. There was even a parent that told me my parents were bad people. Who says that to a child? I think that period of my life was the beginning of my problems with anxiety. My mom tried to support us and protect us, but she had her own difficulties to manage.

    A few weeks before first grade started, my brother and I began going to daycare for the first time in our lives. I had a hard time adjusting. I was the only 7 year old there. All the other kids in my group were 5 years old or 10 years old. There weren’t any books aside from the odd board book or discarded magazine. Sensing my unhappiness my Mom bought me some books to bring to daycare. One of which was the first book in The Babysitter’s Club series. Admittedly she probably bought the book because the title was “Kristy’s Great Idea”. It was the first time I had ever seen a character that spelled their name the same way I spelled mine. I devoured the book in two days. The other books, a volume from the Boxcar Children, some Encyclopedia Brown, and the first book from Sweet Valley High, were okay but “Kristy’s Great Idea” was the only book in the stack that I read more than once. With a long car trip to my dad’s house in the near future, my mom bought me the next two in the series to read on the way. Later that summer my dad added four more to my growing collection. By Christmas I had the entire series up to that point.

    For many years The Babysitter’s Club were my go-to books during those car trips. Even when I had moved on to other novels and had “outgrown” the series, I would still page through my favorites when I needed a pick me up. Which became more frequent as I got older and my bouts with anxiety increased. I’m grateful for the girls of Stoneybrook, who were as familiar to me as my real friends and I loved all of them. I’m embarrassed to admit that on the days when I wanted to shut out the world I may have written a little bit of fanfiction. Thankfully that was pre-internet and as far as I know those notebooks no longer exist. Unless my mom is hiding them as fodder for future embarrassment.

    When I was 10, I was given the opportunity to meet Ann M. Martin at an event at a local bookstore. I was so excited, I was going to meet one of my favorite authors. I spent hours the day before picking out the right outfit and the right book for her to sign. I was so excited I barely made it through school the day of the event. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to meet Ann M. Martin that day because several hours later one of the worst wind/thunderstorms had hit Columbus. Trees and power lines were blown down. Our power had gone out and our neighbor’s car had blown down the street and crashed into a tree. My step-dad decided that it would be safer to skip the event and stay home. He was right of course but I was still disappointed.

    Three years later I was given another opportunity to meet her but for the first time in my life, I came down with the flu. A year later I missed seeing her because I was in urgent care with a broken finger. The time after that it was because my flight to New York was delayed. And the pattern continues on and on.

    Since then I have met many different authors, from household names like David Sedaris (he's even funnier in person) and Neil Gaiman (he's lovely). I have met Nobel Prize winner Michael Cunningham (not sure what was more exciting, having a conversation with the author of The Hours or having Dr. P refer to me as one of his favorite students during the introduction…) and many newer authors such as Celeste Ng and Marissa Meyer. Every time I meet an author I become a bit gob smacked and lose the ability to carry on a normal intelligent conversation. And although I have met some amazing authors and heard some amazing stories, I still long to meet the author whose books got me through my parents’ divorce, puberty, and a slew of teenage problems. 

    In 2009, The Babysitter’s Club went out of print, although not for long. Within a year Scholastic republished certain volumes from the original series. They even published a few graphic novels, illustrated by Eisner award winner Raina Telgemeier. It has been 26 years since I first laid my hands on The Babysitters Club and I'm grateful to my Mom for picking up that first book and I'm grateful to Ms. Martin for naming one of her characters "Kristy" and catching my Mom's eye. I can honestly say that The Babysitters Club series started my lifelong love affair with books, and for that I'm grateful. Today my original Scholastic paperback copy of “Kristy’s Great Idea” and a few of my other favorites – mostly the ones that featured Kristy, Claudia, or Dawn; sit on one of the many bookshelves in my house, nestled between The Giver and The Borrowers. And once in a while, when I need a pick me up, I will pick one out and reread my favorite parts. So once again I will probably miss meeting Ann M. Martin, you would think that after 20+ years I should just give up. Or maybe this time I can break the curse.

**After writing the original draft my husband graciously agreed to go to BookCon with me. Fingers crossed.**