I ran into Sandy in the hallway. “Oh, hey Jeff, this is a heads up. You’re going to be formally invited to be a book in the Living Library.” Sandy’s statement probably makes no sense to you, so let me elaborate. A big trend in libraries right now is to offer patrons a chance to checkout living books. And by books, I really mean people, people with a story to tell. The goal is to offer opportunities to spend time with someone who might be able to teach you something new.
Last winter, the library where I work launched our Living Library program with eight books. One was a woman who served as a frontline nurse during World War II. Another book was a Muslim couple who decided to make their careers and live their lives in my almost uniformly white and Christian small town. Patrons ‘checked out’ these people for one-hour sessions to primarily, but not exclusively, discuss the person’s advertised topic. The one-month program was wildly successful, and before it even ended, people clamored for another season. Many people came forward and volunteered to be a book.
A few months ago in a staff meeting, Sandy announced her intention to repeat the program. She finished her comments with the statement, “And some people in this very room are going to be asked to be books.” As I sat there scraping my front teeth back and forth, top against bottom, jamming my left thumbnail into that callused spot on my right hand, and squishing my eyelids together so long and so hard, that it took five seconds for my eyeballs to return to their normal shape and begin to see clearly again, I thought, “Ah crap. They’re going to want the guy with Tourette Syndrome.”
Last week, in my post Medication Management, I detailed my discomfort conversing with people in an unstructured fashion. I do well in short bursts, a sentence or two, or when giving planned comments in a presentation, but when I need to tell a story, answer questions, or speak off-the-cuff, things tend to shut down. My brain seizes up and leaves me seeming tongue tied. It’s not that I can’t convey my thoughts so much as I don’t have any thoughts at all. My brain spins into a panic loop. I go blank. I know my stammering or silence seems awkward and weird which distresses me and that becomes the new thought spinning in my head.
With hundreds of blogposts and two published books on difficult topics including mental health, Tourette Syndrome, and sobriety, I’m sure my coworkers think I’m a natural fit for the Living Library. And it’s true, if I could show up with a half dozen essays, read them, and answer a few questions, I’d love it, but to string my experiences into a comprehensive narrative? Too hard. I wouldn’t last five minutes.
When asked to be a Living Library book, my immediate thought was ‘Geez, don’t these people read my blog? They should already know this is something I’m not going to do.’ But of course, they don’t read my blog. Maybe they have once or twice out of curiosity, but I don’t envision my coworkers dissecting my every post. Still, it’s easy to amuse myself imagining how much easier my life would be it everyone already knew what I was thinking.
The next day, I wrote an email: Hi Sandy, I’m not quite sure what a ‘formal invitation’ to participate as a living library book entails, but I’d like to decline before we get to the formal stage. I appreciate being asked, but conversing is, in general, pretty uncomfortable for me. I think I’ll stick with writing my story instead.
So there it is. It’s done! I’m disappointed in myself, but I can’t believe anyone wants to spend an hour with a barely coherent guy stammering about Tourette Syndrome. In my writers’ groups—also hosted by the library—I have an opportunity to read finished essays to a group under the guise of soliciting feedback. In this environment, the focus is the writing, but a bit of awareness around these topics is bound to filter through as well.
The Other Stuff 
a living library, what a cool idea. I have never heard of that. I wonder if my local library has that? I definitely have the same social anxieties you have.
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IF they aren’t doing it, they’ve probably heard of it. Libraries borrow ideas from each other nonstop. Yes, folks with social anxieties aren’t a good fit for this type of program. I always thought people were attracted to libraries specifically because they are introverts.
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i’ve heard of the living library– i think it originated in sweden or denmark (??) … i googled it a while back to get some background but can’t remember the actual facts. anyway, the whole concept freaks me out a little (at least in the US). i’m naturally leery of strangers, and of course, i’m immediately wondering if the living book comes with a security team? … (i know!). anyway, i think your email to decline the formal invite was very proactive and appropriate! No way would i ever consider doing it (tho, let’s be honest, who would want to check-out a neurotic nutcase that asks them to put on a mask, maintain a minimum 5 foot distance at all times, no shaking hands, no touching of any kind, and preferably no breathing). i certainly don’t want my books to breathe. ever.
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I think it’s Denmark. It commonly goes under the branded name The Human Library, but there was some reason we didn’t associate with that, I can’t remember now. My stranger danger concerns are long past. I blog under my own name, often tell the name of my town and even tell people where I work. I’m a stalker’s dream. I’m sure you’d be a delightful book. You know more about Marilyn Monroe than anyone I’ve ever met.
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and more about germs than howard hughes! 🙂
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Forgive the levity and any connotations that I’ve not thought through, but you could have asked to be treated like a script from the Rare Books Collection: one person at a time, in a humidity controlled private room, white cotton gloves on, no talking – communication by notes passed back and forth – and security guy standing just outside the door. In other words, you’re a Treasure mate.
Be well and do good,
DD
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Yes, no talking, only passing notes. That would be far more enjoyable for me. I doubt our patrons would have much patience for that. And i’d be yelling ‘But I’m a treasure! I’m a treasure!!’
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No need to be disappointed in yourself. My first thought was to give you kudos for saying “no” so efficiently and directly. I’d struggle to say no, and that email would gnaw at me. Still, it’s a cool idea.
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I think it’s an AWESOME idea, somewhere up there with libraries in general and ones that loan out pets in particular! But I’m with Crusty Tuna, and I’ll quote Steve Jobs as reinforcement “People think focus means saying yes to the thing you’ve got to focus on. But that’s not what it means at all. It means saying no to the hundred other good ideas that there are. You have to pick carefully. I’m actually as proud of the things we haven’t done as the things I have done. Innovation is saying no to 1,000 things.” Way to go, Jeff!
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Are you reading a book about Steve Jobs? I’ve never heard about libraries loaning pets. I think I’d have trouble with that one. Too many reckless people out there, I’d worry about the animals’ safety. The closer I get to the end of my career, the more comfortable I am saying no.
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I thought I first read about it as an effort in Australia, but looking it up now, I found it at a Canadian school:
https://globalnews.ca/news/3396697/dog-on-demand-uvic-library-loans-out-canine-companion-to-students/
You are, of course, right about the risk(s) involved. I’m not sure how they address that. I have more recently read of a program in the Netherlands to combat loneliness by matching dog owners with seniors who walk the dogs and helps them make new connections:
https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-67714026
May I ask why you feel more comfortable saying no now than you did earlier in your career?
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It is a cool idea. There was a time I would have never said no. To some degree, I wish I was still like that, but it would be brutal to do it, and I honestly don’t think that interesting.
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I’m with you when it comes to off the cuff speaking. In practical terms, it just doesn’t happen
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Years and years (and years) ago, Seinfeld had a follow-up show to, well, Seinfeld. And he told there that the two biggest fears that folks have are public speaking and death. So, he said, for most people attending a funeral, they would likely prefer to be in the coffin than be giving the eulogy 😀
It’s funny, but there’s a big kernel of truth somewhere there. And I would offer Steve Jobs who used to give outstanding presentations. If you read up on it, you find out that he would practice manically, again and again and again and again, including every aspect of the presentation, even how the stage lights operated, so that the “off the cuff” presentation would be as amazing as it truly was. And that was The Steve Jobs!
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So Jobs’ presentations were never actually off the cuff. For me it makes little difference whether the audience is just one person or a thousand. It’s nothing to do with fear at all. It’s simply that I can’t be create sentences on the fly. I rely on prepared and rehearsed scripts even for day to day communication. It possibly stems from not thinking in words and that I have mild dyspraxia and am autistic
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My discomfort grows with the crowd size, but really 7 people is too large and after that, it probably doesn’t matter.
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It’s funny, I recently wrote about different elements from tv shows that would be spectacular to have irl. One of them was exactly that: having the ability to come up with witty remarks “off the cuff”, but really enabled by a team of script writers 🙃
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See, a eulogy for me is no problem because it would be written in advance. But once someone asked a question, I’d be sunk.
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Before I got too far down the page, I thought the same thing–doesn’t she read his blog? How could she ask him to do THAT? And then thought, maybe he can read some of his essays. But you addressed it all as I was rolling along with your writing.
BTW, I just watched Maestro on Netflix. In case you haven’t seen it, I’m telling you right now, it’s nerve-wracking. A quote from Bernstein at the beginning says art is meant to ask questions, not answer them, or some such. Not sure why Bradley Cooper included that. The life, or the movie, doesn’t present questions. It just produces the jitters.
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Maestro isn’t for me. We’re a quirky comedy household almost exclusively. It’s weird being a writer in a library. I wonder who is reading and what they think all the time. I think in general, people really aren’t interested in blogs. My first book is in our collection, but again, I have no idea who’s read it. I’m afraid to ask… I don’t want people to think I’m needy and I really don’t want to know who has glimpsed so deep into my life.
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Wow, this is a cool program, but I can see why it would cause you a lot of angst, Jeff. Sometimes saying no is the right thing to do … and a freeing experience. Btw, your blog is a treasure trove of “living library ” experiences and anecdotes. Take care.
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It is a cool program. The guy who oversees adult programming for our library system is phenomenal. Our adult programming has exploded since we hired him. And thank you for that compliment. We do this blog thing week after week and year after year, and eventually we can look back and say ‘whoa, I really created something.’
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Yes, our blogs are significant bodies of creative work. I hear your voice and you hear mine. I’m proud of that. Merry Christmas, Jeff.
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Ok
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Wow, I love this post. I always understand why someone would rather write than talk. As someone who stands in front of classes of college students and talks in 50-minute spurts, I have never really gained any comfort with doing it. Recently I’ve been losing my voice about a third of the way through a class session. Maybe it’s the universe’s way or my body’s way of telling me it’s time to stop talking.
Thank you for being so candid about your discomfort with the invitation to talk about yourself.
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