Secret Shopper

Using a public library where you are not known or a librarian who does not know you, ask for a good book to read. Discuss what happens: What questions were you asked? What tools if any did the librarian use to help you? Did the librarian successfully find a “good book” for you to read? If yes, how so? If no, why not? 

For this assignment, I decided it was finally time to get my own library card and hit up my local public library. I had never met any of the library staff before, and I was sure they wouldn’t know me from Adam. I was right. 

I approached a blue-haired librarian who seemed to be in her twenties or maybe early thirties, typing furiously into her computer. I felt a fair amount of trepidation asking for help; the librarians looked like they were really busy, and I could probably find something on my own if I had to. Undeterred, I asked for help anyway. Interrupting her computer work, I told her I was new to the library and asked her if she could recommend a book for me to read. Elated that she would be “happy to help,” I embarked on a readers’ advisory interaction, but this time from the patron side of the counter. It was nothing like what I was expecting, as I will now describe.

She asked me what I liked to read. I told her that I did not usually read science fiction, but I was looking for a good sci-fi title to branch out a little bit (planning ahead to my science fiction annotation due in a few weeks). Admitting that sci-fi was not her forte, she said she would give it her best shot and asked me what kind of sci-fi I liked. This question seemed like a dubious choice: having already mentioned that I was unfamiliar with the genre, I was tempted to say I didn’t know that sci-fi had any “kinds”. Opting instead for the truth, I told her that I had studied chemistry in college and therefore was partial to sci-fi with credible, plausible science, and I was less interested in fantasy-esque sci-fi. (Although that is a secret love of mine, I was looking for a pure sci-fi for my annotation.) 

She thought about it for a minute and returned to typing on her computer. It was certainly a little off-putting and disconcerting as a patron: what was she looking up? Was she checking to see if a title that had come to mind was checked in? Did I say a word she had not understood? Had she given up on helping me and returned to her previous task?

Several minutes ticked by as I awkwardly looked around the library and pretended to be interested in the nearby display on Valentine’s Day picture books. Daring to break the silence, I mentioned something about being interested in LGBTQ characters if possible, but it was by no means a dealbreaker. This was met with silence and more casual perusal of tasteful children’s displays. 

I wonder if this librarian had knowledge of appeal factors, NoveList (n.d.) defines as “the elements of a story that make a book attractive and interesting to a reader” (p. 1). This might have helped her identify items that I would have enjoyed beyond just subgenre. I thought she might be looking them up, but I realized she never asked me if I had already read any books in the genre, much less why I had liked them. The soft answers I had given about preferring LGBTQ characters were completely ignored, from what I could tell.

She eventually told me that she had looked up a number of titles, but none of them were checked in at this branch. Relieved that she hadn’t abandoned me to readers’ advisory purgatory, I asked if there were any that she had found. She mentioned that Ready Player One by Ernest Cline was a popular sci-fi title, and there was a copy checked in. She also mentioned Michael Crichton, whose works include Jurassic Park. A few moments later, she said that most of Michael Crichton’s books were not shelved in the science fiction section, and so they might not be what I’m looking for.

She then led me over to where Ready Player One was shelved. I told her that I had watched the movie, but as a child born in the mid-90s, I had only understood about half of the 80s pop culture references. (Sorry, Dad.) She said that her experience had been similar, she but reassured me that “the book was better.” I took the book since it seemed awkward not to take it from her outstretched hand. There was no opportunity for me to give feedback, tell her what I did or did not like about this work, or suggest other paths we might take. As Saricks (2015) mentioned, “[I]f we’re not really listening to what readers say, we’re not really meeting their needs” (p. 25). I am still not sure why this book was her recommendation to me, as it did not seem to match any of the scant preferences I had provided. It seemed like a bit of a shame.

On our way back to the reference desk, she happened to spot a Michael Crichton book in the science fiction section, his 2002 novel Prey about a cloud of nanobots that escapes a research lab and begins evolving on its own to hunt humankind. Granted, while it did seem to be a little bit more scientifically plausible than Ready Player One, reading about cutting-edge technological advances from almost 20 years ago was not very appealing. I carried both books back to the counter with me.

I thought that maybe I was being too difficult for this librarian, so I did offer that I had read The Martian by Andy Weir and found it interesting; did she know of any similar works that she could recommend? She sure did: Artemis by Andy Weir. That was the only title she recommended, and as luck would have it, it was checked out. She did help me to get a copy of the eAudiobook on my device, albeit it was a copy in Spanish. (She did check to see if I spoke Spanish, which I do, so no harm there.) I genuinely thanked her for her time and bade her a good evening. While I was not particularly interested in either book, I decided to checkout Prey merely to save face and not walk out of the building without either of her recommendations.

Please understand that I do not wish to criticize the service I received nor shame this library; perhaps the librarian I spoke with had little experience or training with readers’ advisory, or perhaps she was just having an off day. Certainly she was underpaid and overworked. It seemed that she was just suggesting titles off the top of her head, without consulting any sort of online database or advisory tool. However, who really knows what was happening on the other side of the desk during those long stretches of awkward silence? I hoped that I was not causing her any pressure just by standing there doing nothing, but I know I was; O’Dell (2017) relates that a librarian “stand[s] there for hours, waiting for patrons to walk up and ask for help. But [they] have approximately 5 minutes to impress them before they leave. Talk about pressure!” (p. 27).

All things considered, I would return to this librarian and give them another chance. She did her best to provide the two keys to readers’ advisory proposed by Saricks (2005): “commitment to meeting the leisure-reading interests of readers and a responsive attitude toward readers, no matter what they are reading” (p. 11). I felt that she genuinely wanted to help and that she did not see this as a waste of her time. I never felt judged to criticized for my reading preferences.

This assignment was helpful in that it gave me a glimpse into how readers’ advisory interactions feel for the patron. The librarian should always seem available and be willing to help. They should also always tell the patron what they are doing so that the patron doesn’t feel confused or forgotten about. I will apply lessons that I learned here to my future readers’ advisory interactions.

References

NoveList Editorial & St. Louis Public Library Staff (n.d.) The appeal of books. NoveList.

O'Dell, B. (2017). Reader’s advisory: four sites that will help you fake it. Computers in Libraries, 37(6), 27-32.

Saricks, J. (2005). Readers' advisory service in the public library. American Library Association.

Saricks, J. (2015). At leisure with Joyce Saricks. Booklist, 112(7), 25