On My Christmas List...

Dear Santa,

I want one of these, please:

Meet Paige M. Gutenborg, aka Harvard Book Store's Espresso Book Machine. It's a "book making robot" that can create "a library-quality, perfect bound, acid-free 300-page paperback book in roughly four minutes" -- that is supposedly "indistinguishable from paperbacks produced by major publishing houses."

Harvard Book Store offers a catalog of 3.6 million books to print from so far, including Google Books copies and public domain works. Plus, you can also upload your own files to create a 'polished' version of your personal novel, family memoirs, etc.

So far, the selection is necessarily limited by copyright (you may have heard some fuss about Google Books, for instance), and the market varies widely; prices for a digital 'copy' of Villette by Charlotte Bronte range from $9 to $22. I'm not sure what 'added value' the $22 version has (better fonts? nicer formatting?).

So how about we make a deal with publishers, agree on a pricing model and stick these machines in libraries, letting patrons have direct access to digital works with the option of 'creating' their own hard copies to keep? Publishers win, because they can cut back huge production costs and don't have to take on the costly risk of overproducing (ever since the Great Depression, publishers are obligated to take back all copies that a bookstore cannot sell) -- plus, they'll get access to all sorts of 'niche' markets by providing access to works that weren't previously profitable to print.

Authors win, getting greater distribution and more direct profit, especially in the case of out-of-print works -- even if only a relative few 'buy' those books, it's still bringing in money where previously there was none.

Libraries win, increasing their circulation and relevance and solidifying their place in the information exchange, while fulfilling their mission of providing greater access to resources for their patrons.

In the meantime, I can foolishly dream of seeing Paige in my stocking this year. Oh, if only BookSanta were real...

Vanilla to Rocky Road: Librarians and Access

I have just finished reading Thomas Friedman's The World Is Flat (yes, I'm a bit behind on my reading list), and a few of his concepts about adaptability and collaboration have been percolating in my brain...to collide with this excellent LJ article by Barbara Fister on academic librarians and information accessibility. Fister addresses the question that seems to drive librarian anxieties about everything from Google Books to the open access movement: what happens to librarians when information becomes 'free'?

Or, in other words, "when the traditional work of libraries is shifted to things other than buying and organizing physical containers of information, how will we justify our existence?"

I found myself applying Friedman's framework to this question, as he presents a comprehensive and engaging summary of the growth of the Internet and the digital worldwide collaboration that is reshaping our world today.

In simple terms, Friedman argues that as certain functions become digitized, streamlined, and/or automated (be it accounting work or systems maintenance, etc), they become "vanilla" skills -- cheap and interchangeable. Therefore, company or person who relies on a "vanilla" platform will soon find themselves obsolete. Remaining relevant and competitive depends upon one's added value to the basic functions (i.e. the chocolate sauce), through the particular specialized services or quality of work you provide.

Which is exactly what Fister is talking about when she argues that "we need to separate our value -- the way we curate information, champion its availability in the face of intolerance of unpopular ideas and economic disparity, and create conditions for learning how to find and use good information -- from the amount of money it takes to acquire stuff on the not-so-open market." Because as 'information' in bulk becomes cheaper (down to the 'free' of a Google search page), simply 'getting information' of any kind becomes a skill that everyone shares, including the seven-year-old on her laptop. Librarians do not want to be competing on the same level as a seven-year-old.

Fister believes that our ability to judge and provide quality information is what distinguishes us, and I agree -- there is more 'stuff' than ever out there for people to search through, but most of it is still junk. And what patrons really value is getting the right stuff, without losing time to a frustrating and demoralizing search that siphons off your will to live (witness the glazed expressions of those students approaching the reference desk).

On a broader view, Fister sees the arenas of 'added value librarianship' particularly in the blending of "creating, curating, and publishing" that is happening in academic communities online (particularly in the e-journals realm). The recent partnerships with libraries and university presses, digital library projects, and librarian collaboration with the open access movement are just a few examples to keep in mind. Fister reassures her readers that librarians' roles are changing, but "the value of what we do will still be there," because quality information is still valued.

Or as Friedman might say, everybody loves a sundae; instead of vanilla, we just need to focus on becoming the chocolate sauce and whipped cream (which, as everyone knows, is what makes a sundae).

Between the Iron Thighs: Info Demands on Librarians Today

A couple of articles in SLA's Information Outlook got me thinking about the hurdles and challenges librarians are facing, due to the changes in how people are accessing and processing information. On one side, we have destabilizing shifts in the supply and presentation of content -- and on the other side, urgent demands from users who are producing and consuming at a dizzying pace. No wonder working at the reference desk can sometimes feel like being squeezed in a giant vice...

On the supply side, several things are happening at once: information is being made available for cheaper, quicker, and in more mediums than ever. As Larry Prusak explained in an interview, the business world has seen a rapid plummeting in "information transaction costs" -- this trend holds true for all users, from the business exec who Googles stock reports to the student who Wikipedias the Battle of the Bulge. This shakes up the traditional role of the librarian as 'information provider,' as users increasingly go out and forage for the data they need on their own.

Never mind multiple studies showing that most users are dramatically lacking in information skills -- but competency theory means that they are blissfully unaware of their own ineptitude, putting librarians in a double-bind. Surrounded by user-friendly (i.e. idiot-proof) search engines, users don't see the necessity of librarians' expertise (and when their searches fail, they can always just blame the interface -- or worse, assume that there's no information out there).

Meanwhile, librarians are scrambling behind the scenes to manage all these new forms of muitimedia and digital data, even as society shifts to ever more image-and-video focused platforms for communications.

And, of course, no one is willing to wait. A recent study by CIBER confirms the obvious: the shorter a piece of text, the more likely it will be read. For online browsing, the average e-article snags maybe 4 minutes of a user's attention, with most students skimming abstracts and hopskotching article titles in the search for that perfect reference.*

So the librarian gets trapped with a demanding, ill-informed user who wants their perfect answer now and doesn't necessarily see the librarian as much more qualified than they are to get it (after all, Google is so easy!). And then we fall into the Teacherly mode, trying to show them how to look for information better -- except that patrons don't want a lecture, they want results. Hence the dispiriting OCLC 2006 survey finding that user satisfaction actually decreases when librarians try to help.

Ouch.

What are the solutions? Well, in an academic setting, I don't see a lot of ways to avoid donning the Instructor Hat; students need to learn how to search in sophisticated, informed ways. Some encouragement comes from finding that the more educated students are about search techniques, the more willing they become to learn more (once they actually start seeing results).

However, for librarians overall as 'information providers,' I agree that the profession needs to evolve dramatically. We can no longer rely on the base of presenting data to users -- there are search engines and computer algorithms for that, and if they aren't good enough to replace humans yet, they will be. Instead, we have to provide value at higher levels; providing context, social connections, creative and engaging ways to synthesize information into knowledge. We have to make the information at our disposal useful to our patrons, tailored to their plans and needs and desires.

Librarianship has always been about service; we're just shifting our services to different areas and platforms. Hopefully, then we'll all be able to breathe a little easier.

**************************************************************


*More fun facts about Reading Habits/Death of Print?' later, maybe -- studies have shown we tend to skim online and actually read in print (so you have students accessing these online databases and then printing out the articles to absorb the material).

Cataloging Books Join Festivities

Now here's a good use for those cataloging manuals...


(Courtesy of LMU Library, http://www.flickr.com/photos/lmulibrary/4175698818/in/set-72157622977026002/)

I am so amused.

Wiki-woes?

Swinging back into things with an examination of Wikipedia...

As a librarian-in-training and a Reference Desk Monkey, I've been hearing a lot about the Wikipedia debate -- like everyone else who has happened to use the Internet in the past five or so years. So I'm sure it's mostly old hat to you, Dear Reader: that furious debate over whether Wikipedia is A Valid Source of Information.

Jimmy Wales himself, on a recent video interview on Yahoo's "Tech ticker," proposed this sticker to put on the open encyclopedia: "Use With Care." Basically, Wikipedia is a decent source on some topics; that much-cited study by Nature magazine found Wikipedia's quality in a sampling of scientific articles was comparable to the Encyclopaedia Britannica Online, while a mini- review panel in Library Journal concluded that Wikipedia was a particularly rich pop culture guide and also fairly rewarding for current events -- even on controversial topics.

Wales pointed out that Wikipedia does have features to help, with flags for articles lacking sources or those including statements that smack of bias -- and users should pay attention to these notes when perusing the site. He believes that contributors and users have a social responsibility in "attempting to be very high-quality, very neutral," and a system of critique and review has been created for that purpose. There is a system of policies and guidelines and a structure of administration privileges within the active volunteer community of over 85,000 contributors and about 75,000 editors (these numbers are probably obsolete already, of course -- Wikipedia is always in flux).

Plus, users can check out the "History" tab on any article to see what changes have recently been made, along with all previous versions (which are automatically saved, contributing to protections against vandalism). The "Discussion" tab shows what is currently being debated in the article's creation/editing process, therefore highlighting any areas of particular dispute. There's even a guide to "Researching with Wikipedia," outlining the site's strengths and weaknesses as a potential source, along with useful features.

Wales concludes -- and I have to agree -- that the question of "Should Wikipedia be used?" is ultimately a useless one. It is being used, widely and constantly; by students, the general public, and yes, even researchers and teachers and librarians.

The question that instructors need to help their students (and librarians their patrons) address is how to use Wikipedia wisely, with active judgment and awareness. Citing Wikipedia isn't the point, since you shouldn't really be citing an encyclopedia in your research anyway -- encyclopedias are launching platforms, where you get a broad sense of a topic and find trails to more the detailed, in-depth information that you need for your paper/project.

So by all means, you can start your Quest for Knowledge at Wikipedia...just make sure you follow those daisy-chains of references and citations outside the encyclopedia to confirm all your lovely, erudite conclusions.

Of Google and Metadata

No real time or inclination to update on my life (imagine reading, more reading, some swearing and sobbing...then back to the reading). It has been busy. There has not been much sleep. This may need to change, soon; then again, it may not.

Instead, I'm cross-posting an entry from my Cataloging class reading journal. Yes, it is poorly written and completely basic with no added insights and I hope and pray I'm not inadvertently web-plagiarizing anyone with my dribblings (I have links! See?). But these are some of The Things We Think About At Library School:

I've seen a lot of posts responding to and expanding upon Geoff Nunberg's "Google Books: A Metadata Train Wreck," and it seems like a complicated and rapidly evolving debate. Nunberg worries that the Google Books project represents the "Last Library" -- due to scanning costs and the sheer extent of the project, it's unlikely that other institutions will take it upon themselves to create their own online collection of books. Therefore, GB has a 'monopoly' over these materials, making errors in metadata far more damaging to research efforts now and in the future, since they won't have any other place to 'go' for their information.

Given these concerns, the following issues have been raised:

• What metadata standards should be used: Unlike libraries, GB doesn't seem to be following any unified standards, and the ones they have adopted are ill-suited to the scope and complexity of the collection (re: book industry BISAC classifications). Since consistency and standardization is an essential component for allowing for accurate search, this imperils the future of 'serious,' detailed research in favor of enabling, at best, a loose keyword or subject search through full text documents.
• Who should provide the metadata: Part of the blame, GB argues, rests on the metadata suppliers themselves, including libraries -- but Nunberg maintains that "a very large proportion of the errors are clearly Google's doing." In some cases, Google is forgoing existing metadata collections in favor of 'creating' their own by automatically extracting information from scanned pages -- a process that seems particularly error-prone.
• Who is ultimately responsible: What obligation does Google have to ensure consistent metadata for these materials? Is it enough to simply post them online and let users sift through the data themselves? Dan Clancy, Chief Engineer for the Google Books project, suggested that users themselves might fix some of these errors -- should they be expected to? And how could their accuracy be trusted?

And some of my own questions:

• Is there any possibility of a partnership with other organizations, such as libraries, in order to bring these materials under some form of centralized bibliographic control -- or is there simply too much data to handle? How can one even keep up with the proliferation of information online, particularly if the providing institutions won't slow down enough to integrate clear metadata practices into their operations?

At this point, there doesn't seem to be much incentive for GB to change their metadata practices; despite besides the protests of the research and library communities, Google isn't under any contractual obligation as a 'universal online library,' for instance. The current Google Books Settlement seems to be focused on fighting the 'monopoly' issue in the online scanning project, but I'm not sure how it could help with the problems of managing metadata for the materials GB has already scanned. There's also the possibility of 'competing' organizations and efforts like HathiTrust -- a consortium that I'd like to investigate further. I look forward to watching this debate and learning more, but it's already obvious that 'library' issues like standardizing metadata practices and determining user needs have applications far outside the limits of the library building itself.

**P.S. That last line is awful, no? Witness the effects of sleep deprivation. Also, I have tried twice now to get an application at Dining Services; each time, they have forgotten/said yes and then ignored me, presumably in the hopes that I would give up. I think I may oblige them.

Of Wands and Weariness

So my technology class professor vaguely resembles Hagrid. And then he made a Harry Potter reference later in the lecture, which was perfect (about how the 'magic' of the Internet is lost once you know the mechanics -- no more "swish and flick," kiddos!). He seems extremely knowledgeable, engaging, and understanding, which is great. Not so great: giving us a quiz at the start of the first class that revealed the full breadth and depth of my computer/programming ignorace. Crapmonkeys.

The cataloging class this morning was another instance of Great Professor, But Oh God Look At That Syllabus. I had several moments earlier in the day where I've been hyperventilating over the sheer amount of work to be done, filling my poor little calendar with assignments and presentations...and I still haven't absorbed the total weight of all the courses combined, yet.

And I refuse to, at this moment. It's Friday.

Now I need to rush to the library to return some books before closing time -- if a GSLIS student holds a book overdue, are they banished from the program?

To Recap Last Episode...

In the last several days, I have:

• gone to a sex toy party
• embarked on an epic quest to Louisa May Alcott's house (and only barely returned alive)
• hunted among the chaotic shelves of the BPL
• begun classes

Guess which was most terrifying?

Today was the class on publishing and librarianship, and I still cannot quite believe that it was...you know, class. Because we got to talk about books. And our professor has worked in the industry in Totally Important Positions, and she knows authors personally and is going on a book tour this fall (because guess what she's also a writer), and today she had all these inside stories and I am now apparently going to spend the semester working out how to republish Watership Down for the YA market in 2009.

asdasghjfk? Am I awake?

There is reading and research and the Terrifying Tech Class tomorrow, but for a first class experience, there are far worse ways to start one's graduate career.

Oh and P.S. there's going to be an open forum on the dining schenanigans later next week. I guess I wasn't the only one moved to compose an angry email.

Allow Me to Explain...

So, in perfect Murphy's Law fashion, soon after the dining complaint letter was dispatched, we GSLISers ventured into the hall once more, fueled with righteous indignation and ready for battle over the salad bar -- to find actual food waiting in the trays. And reasonable lines at the stations. And -- wonder of wonders! -- a full complement of ice cream cones sitting placidly next to the now-functioning machine. It's like the past few days were only a horrible nightmare...

And my Letter of Hanger (hunger-driven anger) looks a little bit wilted now. I've not yet received a response, but I'm not looking forward to it. Then again, I am being fed, so who cares?

I realize this has started the record on a negative note, but hopefully that isn't an omen. I will try to keep this from being a gripe-fest (because really, those get old fast) and stick to the facts as I find them. For instance, finding the waffle machine this morning was lovely. We became fast friends, and I forsee many cozy brunches in our future.

But enough of my love affair with breakfast. To begin officially --

This is the journal of a beginning library science graduate student, attempting to navigate the fraught pathways of higher academia and city life in the Northeast United States. As I was conducting my grad school search, I was frustrated at the lack of 'inside information' about what the programs were really like -- was the workload overwhelming? Could jobs be found? How was campus life? Any hidden cults?

Hence, this: One girl's story of Library School. Undoubtedly biased, sporadically updated, and of highly dubious informational value...but still here. Yet another resource twinkling into existence in the sparkling, crowded sky of the Internets.

At least until I decide to delete this.

First Rule of College Management = Feed Your Students

A copy of the dining complaint letter just sent (names thinly veiled to prevent outright scandal):

On Wednesday, September 3rd, I went to _____ Hall for dinner with a group of fellow graduate students from ____ Hall. Upon arriving, we were shocked and dismayed to discover that there was very little food available. The pizza station was empty, trays were scraped clean at the _______ Station, sparse spinach remained at the salad bar, and while there were still lunch meats sitting out at the deli counter, there was no bread. I joined one of the very long lines at the Grill station and a fellow student told me to write down my order and place it on the counter to be filled. There was only one chef at the station attempting to fill at least ten orders before me, and when I attempted to write down my selection, the pencil had been worn down too far to make any marks on the paper.

I abandoned this futile venture in favor of the salad bar, only to find that there were no forks left. The mugs ran out immediately after; although a friend had gotten one for me, it was basically a moot point, since the juice machine was not working, there was no coffee, and not even hot water to make tea. While I watched, the lemonade ran out at another machine. I had some cold water. When I returned to the pizza station, there was roughly a quarter of a pizza there, and I was quick to grab a slice, but since it was already cold I found it fairly unappetizing. To cap off a frustrating evening, the ice cream machine was depleted by the time my friends and I finished our meager salads and cold pizzas (one girl had managed to forage some rice and cauliflower).

According to the ___________ Dining website: "_____'s variety can be overwhelming, which is why we ask that students walk around to every station to make an educated menu decision. We encourage you to take one course at a time, returning later to different stations for additional courses." I did find myself visiting every station that night, but it was in a rushed race to scrape together enough for dinner; hardly a considered meditation over the wealth of dining choices.

I fully appreciate that you are managing the start of the semester transition, as well as adjusting to a revised dining program; when I spoke to one of the staff, they also indicated that there has been a significant increase in the student population on campus. I hope that you and your staff can take corrective action to address these issues and prevent the totally inadequate service that my friends and I experienced last night. I have paid for dining at ______ College, and if this state of affairs continues, I will respectfully request a refund for the equivalent cost of my remaining meals and points on the dining plan. I will happily forgo all meal privileges at _____ Hall and am confident in my ability to find equivalent or superior dining options off campus. I am currently paying for a service that is not being provided. This is completely unacceptable not only to myself but to the many other graduate students I have spoken with. I look forward to your reply, and hope to see this situation resolved to the mutual satisfaction of both parties.

Thank you for your attention,

Regards,
Hungry GSLISer