Greetings once again. Well, I'm back after a bit of a hiatus to bring you more library news. Actually, I have two announcements to share, but I'll begin with this one: the Riverside Public Library's Crate Label Collection was added to Califa's Digital Collections yesterday. This is a very big deal for us librarians anyway (we're applying the finishing touches to an LHDRP grant).

RPL's local history department was fortunate to have inherited some crate labels from the late Lorne Allmon who, according to crate label expert Thomas "Pat" Jacobsen, "amassed a wonderful Riverside collection, and was the key proponent and editor of the Citrus Peel, the organ of the Citrus Label Society for about 30 years."

Some of the labels in this collection are strikingly beautiful. Including the one featured here of Pachappa Hill.

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I was determined to get this collection up on the server as soon as possible because -- and here's where the second announcement ties in -- I'm leaving my position as the Local History and Special Collections Librarian with RPL and moving on to new adventures. It's time to "withdraw to the underground world" -- to borrow a line from Pablo Neruda -- for a little while.

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Perhaps, when I blog again...that is, if I blog again -- for blogs, and all the trappings of social networking, and perhaps the whole writing business ought to be thrown in here as well -- there's very little privacy in them. Then again, it depends on the focus of the blog, the book, the essay.

Should I go back to blogging at some point, I'm more likely to explore the spirituality of the ordinary. Washing dishes, doing laundry, reading good books, and sharing insights with my dear husband, family and friends.

What else do I wish to say here? Well, that I believe we must search for, and hopefully discover, what we are meant to do, and should we realize our purpose -- then, it is our obligation to give it everything we have. I do know that discovering our purpose here involves slowing down -- so we can listen.





















"Even if outside any position, you had simply tried to find some easy and independent contact with society, this feeling of being hemmed in would not have been spared you. It is like this everywhere; but that is no cause for anxiety or sadness. If there is nothing you can share with other people, try to be close to Things; they will not abandon you; and the nights are still there, and the winds that move through the trees and across many lands; everything in the world of Things and animals is still filled with happening, which you can take part in; and children are still the way you were as a child, sad and happy in just the same way..."

--Letters to a Young Poet, by Rainer Maria Rilke (trans. Stephen Mitchell)

Many thanks to David Crosson, executive director of the California Historical Society, for his article, Riverside library thrives where many struggle: in the keeping and sharing of historical records. It was a highly complimentary piece, and the local history staff at the Riverside Public Library are greatly encouraged.

With sincere gratitude,

Two stunning books that I've read and loved of late and have been meaning to mention here: Tallgrass by Sandra Dallas and Mudbound by Hillary Jordan.

Both are tender and heartbreaking all at once.

Jordan was the 2006 winner of Barbara Kingsolver’s Bellwether Prize for Fiction in Support of a Literature of Social Change.





Just like Riverside's own Gayle Brandeis, who won the 2002 Bellwether Prize for her gorgeous novel, The Book of Dead Birds.









I've been thinking for some time about Cormac McCarthy's No Country For Old Men. What are we to make of this story?

For weeks I've been engaged in a number of conversations with friends and colleagues about the book and the film. There were also those who told me they refused to see the film because of the terrible violence, and I can't say that I blame them.

I share my father's opinion that the book/film suggests that greedy impulses will set in motion a violent chain of events that conventional systems cannot control. Anton Chigurh, dressed entirely in black, is a grim reaper of sorts -- death personified.

Librarians Have Good Taste

Jean Preston, according to all of the newspaper accounts, was a modest woman. They say she travelled by bus, bought her clothes from catalogs, and ate frozen dinners. But this librarian seems to also have known a thing or two about the finer things of life. Here's what they found in her house after she passed away:

Two panels of the San Marcos altarpiece by none other than Fra Angelico. The two panels, one of which you see to the left, sold at auction for approximately $3.5 million. Her dad bought them back in the sixties when she commented on how much she liked them. Original purchase price? Less than $500.

But just like those infomercial ads, "Wait, there's more."

She also had a painting by Dante Gabriel Rossetti and another by Edward Burne-Jones. Estimated worth of the pair: $2 million.

Don't worry though, as a librarian, she also valued books. She had a rare edition of Chaucer's works, worth about $150,000.

All told, she had approximately $8 million worth of valuables in her home. Not bad for a retired librarian living on a pension.

Today, I want to direct your attention to our very own teen librarian Alicia Doktor-Dorst's recently published editorial in The Press Enterprise entitled, Beyond the Books: Modern libraries woo teen patrons with games, technology, 'Third Space' and more.

Good job, Alicia!

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Deb Caletti is one of my favorite YA writers! And so naturally, I am delighted to have her as a visitor on the blog this evening!

I began as an admirer of Deb's work, having picked up a copy of Wild Roses on display in the teen area of our library a couple years ago. Well then I fell head over heels for the book and wanted to read everything else of hers that was currently print: The Queen of Everything; Honey, Baby, Sweetheart; and more recently, The Nature of Jade.

Having devoured all of her books, it crossed my mind that maybe, just maybe...she would be willing to work with me on a piece for the library's burgeoning Readers and Writers page. Fortunately she said yes, and over the course of that interview we became friends. (Incidentally, the American Library Association's Public Libraries journal recently posted our full interview in PDF format on their website -- scroll down to pg. 25.)

Deb's latest novel, The Fortunes of Indigo Skye, is another gem -- this time about a girl named Indigo who, seemingly out of nowhere, is handed an extremely large sum of money -- a charming moral tale. I loved the way "Little Willow" summarized it in her Amazon review. She writes that Indigo "would rather be poor and happy than wealthy and miserable. [She] has a great set of values and a great sense of self. Those are her true fortunes."

I asked Deb if she'd take a moment out of her busy schedule to meet me for another interview -- this time over here at The Librarian's Own Grove. Please help me welcome her!

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DM: Deb, you've included Nancy Pearl in the acknowledgments page of your latest novel. I know the two of you have a lovely connection.

DC: Nancy Pearl is so down to earth, you wouldn't believe. I was so nervous the first time I met her, but she was telling ME what a fan she was, and giving me book suggestions, and talking about books with the easy love and enthusiasm you'd feel with a fellow book lover you'd known forever. She's just great. I really LIKE her.

DM: Well, I'm sure you have a lot of fans, and for good reason, too. The Fortunes of Indigo Skye is another winner. I couldn't put it down!

DC: Thank you! I'm happy that you liked it!

DM: Would you share with our readers what this book is about? In your words, that is. I've already given a little piece of it away.

DC: Indigo is about a waitress with this great family and a hunky, refrigerator-delivery-guy boyfriend. She loves her life and her work, but it all changes when a customer leaves a really big tip. A really, really big tip. This book is about what feeds us, and it's a "money doesn't buy happiness" tale. It's not a new message, but one we seem to have forgotten.

DM: Perhaps it's not a new message, but the way you tell it is refreshing. As I was reading the book, I recognized myself in it. We do tend to think that money can fix our troubles. I appreciated the reminder.

DC: I wouldn't mind having more of it, either -- it would fix some troubles. Still, after a brief spell in the company of those that have a lot, there seems to be so much missing.

DM: Although I haven't had many opportunities to spend time with people who have lots of money at their disposal, I remember one woman who placed what seemed like tremendous pressure on me to pretend that I was used to staying in glorious hotels. But I was only sixteen, and on occasion, my jaw would just drop. I remember in particular a chandelier that caught my fancy. By the end of the trip, I think she wanted to clobber me.

DC: It's stressful, isn't it, to be anything else than who we are?

DM: Oh absolutely, yes. You can say that again! Was there a particular moment like this that might have served as a catalyst for this book? I realize there aren't always clear cut reasons why we write -- some of us write because we can't help ourselves.

DC: Well, I think there were many personal events that influenced the book. The feel of Indigo and her family is much like mine with my own kids. We have Ron the Buddha on our lawn, and I've been scolded by my wonderful daughter for my love of Axe deodorant. Uh huh - I wear it sometimes, and she's caught me. We have a kitchen clock that has been 6:40 forever (I think it's 10:20 in the Skye house, though), and I did lose my own muffler in the middle of the street, but it was in my kids' school parking lot. But on a larger scale -- my whole need to write this particular book came about from this time when I was suddenly in the company of the wealthy. As a previously struggling writer and single mom who (like Naomi Skye) was sure car problems were around every corner and whose every appliance was breaking down, being around money was a revelation -- a disappointing revelation.

Overall though, I think Indigo is breezier and more fun than my other books -- especially in comparison to the one that's coming next, The Secret Life of Prince Charming.

DM: What can we look forward to in your next book?

DC: The Secret Life of Prince Charming just got sent in, and it will likely see print next year around this time. It is about a girl who discovers that her father (whom she only recently reconnected with) has taken an object from all the women he's been with. Through a series of events, she and her little sister end up collaborating with their barely known half sister to return the objects, meeting and talking with all the women about love and relationships. It's dark mostly because Dad is a flaming narcissist, and she really, really wants to love him. But it's also hopefully funny and tender as she navigates what it means to love wisely.

DM: These are the trials and tribulations that make up our lives, are they not? Whether they're money troubles or relationship difficulties...

DC: That's true. I remember something an old neighbor told me once, and it seemed the simplest and wisest thing. He said that life was like a pie with different sections -- health, money, love, family, work, etc. The idea that all the pieces of the pie would be in terrific working order at the same time was just plain unlikely. Something was always going to be amiss. It's true. It sucks, but it's true.

DM: Deb, that's why I love both you and your books! I'll just take that image of the pie with me into the rest of my life, thank you very much!

DC: Anytime! It does help, doesn't it?

DM: Listen, I know you're busy, what with your book tour and all, and so you need to be on your way. But thanks so very much for stopping by and sharing! Hopefully people will feel motivated to read the book! All of your books!

DC: Thank you so much, too. I really appreciate it!

Virginia Lee Corbin (left), famous child actress, who closed an engagement in the city last week, and Virginia Lee Williamson, who entertained in honor of her mother, Mrs. Joseph Charles Gustaveson, on Seventh East Street. (1921)

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I have received a lot of enthusiatic responses to my blogs on the Williamsons. Thanks so much to all of you kind and generous readers! There's another one in the works, so stay tuned!

I wish I'd noticed earlier on, and for the purposes of my last post (in re this family), that the photo on the right was one of Virginia when she was about fifteen -- nine years before she took a courageous leap in the direction of a career as an actress in Hollywood (you go girl!).

I feel close to the Williamsons, and in an unexpected way -- like I could sit down with them and share stories about their lives that even they had forgotten. And so discovering this photo of Virginia -- well, it would be a lot like discovering one of my French grandmother when she was a child. That's a pretty strong comparison, but it's true.

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The Williamsons left an excellent paper trail, but bits and pieces of the story are clearly still missing. For example, I've run across articles referring to a Mrs. Ida McCune Donovan. Excuse me, did you say Mrs. Donovan? In some instances, "Mrs. Donovan" practically glares off the page -- as though it doesn't belong there -- and in other cases she's impatiently scratched it out and scribbled "Williamson" above. Once upon a time, Mme. Inez McCune Williamson married a Mr. Donovan? Traces of her secret past?