Posts: 6

Why Am I Using Social Media?

Social media is on my mind a lot lately.  The district educational technology department where I work is currently initiating a huge push into social media, and I’m heavily involved with it.  We are using it first to promote the good things our teachers, tech. specialists, and librarians are doing for students in our district.  We are also hoping to inspire all of those educators to engage in social media themselves to share their own good things and to learn from what other educators out in the world are sharing, and know how to help students connect to all of these many social resources as well.

While thinking about this push and how to do it, yesterday I happened upon this little article called “10 Twitter Hacks To Help You Rethink Your Social Voice” from TeachThought, which I liked because it wasn’t the typical list of social marketing tricks to get more followers and be more influential that you usually see in articles with titles like this. Rather, it presented a number of real questions and ideas directed towards educators to cause reflection as to just why we are connecting on social media in the first place, and some subtle cautions against getting caught up in the gamification of social media.  The number one “hack” they list is to define your social media goals and purposes, so that you can then determine how to proceed so as to meet them and be “successful.”  An educator’s social media goals and therefore processes should probably be somewhat different from a marketer’s goals and processes.

So I know pretty well why we are trying to do this social media push professionally, but it leaves me with the question of why I am attempting to involve myself in social media personally.  I happened upon another helpful article today from teacher librarian Travis Jonker at School Library Journal in which he documents the ways he has tried using social media as a school librarian, some of his specific successes in social media, and the successes of others.  Conversely informative and eye opening on this topic of how and why to use social media was the article “The Downside to Being a Connected Educator” by teacher-blogger Pernille Ripp.  She warns about the comparative dangers of the game and the effect it can have on other aspects of your professional and personal life. (I should give due credit that I found both the Ripp article and the TeachThought article via blogger Elisabeth Ellington’s excellent Sunday Salon Online Reading Round-up.)

All of this percolating has combined to inspire me to attempt to answer for myself this question, “Why am I using social media?”  I want to answer it authentically and transparently, right here and right now, because that’s just how I want to do things.  So, here are my goals and purposes in personally participating in social media, particularly via Twitter (@jdwhiting) and this blog:

Why Am I Using Social Media?

  1. To practice writing for an audience and become a better writer.
  2. To find some friends, esp. to find people who are interested in things I am interested in and attempt to engage in conversations with them. (I think this is something friends do, but I’m not really sure.)
  3. To find good ideas and resources, esp. for libraries and education.
  4. To share things I have and do that may end up being good ideas and resources for others.
  5. To practice and model a way to be personally active in social media to my work colleagues, particularly for reasons 3 + 4 above, which are most relevant to our work.
  6. To get unwarranted attention for random obnoxious behavior.
  7. To become famous and rich, in that order.
  8. To help everyone become a Mormon.

So I believe this is a nice refinement of my goals for this blog and my twitter use. I still have a long way to go at being “successful” with some of these,  but listing them helps me clarify what to do and where to go now.  Thanks, TeachThought!  In the coming weeks I think I’m really going to focus on increasing my levels of random obnoxiousness.

Consider this a new, improved update to the Pretend Librarian’s Guide to Socially Awkward Media. Thanks for reading.

5 Things I Learned by Stealing and Reading the Earthsea Trilogy

Earthsea Trilogy 1970s Paperbacks

A few weeks go I was at my wife’s family’s cabin and I was lurking around in a bedroom browsing my in-laws’ old bookshelf.  Hidden in the midst of a notable collection of Louis L’Amour novels, with an old framed photograph sitting on the shelf in front of them, I discovered copies of the original Earthsea Trilogy by Ursula LeGuin: A Wizard of Earthsea, The Tombs of Atuan, and The Farthest Shore.

I believe I have read the first chapter of A Wizard of Earthsea at least three or four times over the course of my life (the first time was probably when I was about 10 years old.)  For whatever reasons it never took and I never continued and finished, but its always been on my list to get back to sometime (right up there with Moby Dick, Swann’s Way, and the Old Testament.) So, it appeared the time had finally come for this book, and I spent a good chunk of my cabin weekend reading that old copy of A Wizard of Earthsea.  As the time came to leave the cabin, I still had about 15 pages left and the story was completely unresolved.  What else could I do but steal the book and take it home? And then since I was already stealing, I might as well steal the whole trilogy.

Although I had various other reading plans, I put them aside to focus on this trilogy.  And now that I’ve finished, I am having a hard time finding anything else from those other reading plans that engages me and forces me to make reading a priority like these books did.

So, rather than a review (because I’m bored with book reviews), here are five things I noticed and learned from these books, mostly from a would-be writer’s perspective:

  1. You don’t have to show everything.  You can tell some things.  And you don’t even have to tell everything.  You can skip time, even and especially across volumes of a trilogy, across years, across great deeds only alluded to or sketched out briefly.  You don’t have to share the whole history of the world you build or the whole lives of the people you bring to life.  You can cover wizard school in three chapters rather than seven books.1

  2. You don’t have to end books with cliffhangers. Not even the second volume of a trilogy.  Each book in a series can be a stand-alone snapshot of a much larger world.2

  3. You don’t have to write high fantasy that is obsessively Euro-centric; you can have high fantasy with people of color.  These books actually set a precedent for this 40+ years ago that I didn’t know existed. Our hero and the majority of the characters are dark-skinned people.  For the most part this isn’t a major focus of the narratives, but it is definitely there and it is intentional.  It’s just one subtle detail of her world and character building, which makes me love it even more.  I didn’t realize this when I started reading A Wizard of Earthsea as a child; it certainly isn’t reflected in any of the cover art I have seen for these books over my lifetime. Depressingly, that downplay was probably a sound marketing decision for the times.  Hopefully the #WeNeedDiverseBooks meme is changing the calculus for those types of decisions and will result in new book covers even for old books such as these. I’m definitely not well-read in fantasy and most of what I have read was a long time ago, so I recognize that I am ignorant and maybe others authors have been engaging in diversity in fantasy for a long time as well.3

  4. The varying ethnic and cultural details are just one example of how LeGuin is a master of using fantasy and other speculative fictions to explore, describe, confront, come to terms with, and rebut ideas we have about culture, race, social norms, politics, religion, sexuality, etc.  I had learned this years ago from reading her The Left Hand of Darkness as a teenager, but I had forgotten since then or taken it for granted.  Speculative fiction provides such capability and opportunity to explore these kinds of issues in a very real, emotional way without the potential for the story and ideas to get bogged down by all the messiness, politicization, and need for research and accuracy that can come with tying a story or character to a particular place and time in the actual historical or contemporary world.  LeGuin is practically an anthropologist of new cultures of her own creation, and I like her approach.4

  5. I love reading paperbacks from the 70s.  They just don’t make them like that anymore.  But more than just the physical-ness of the books themselves, it is good to read something from a different era with a different writing style that is not really trending. A nice widening of perspective from the more contemporary middle grade novels I have been focusing on in the last year or two.  I am reminded that there is so much more to read and learn, I can’t just try to keep up with the new stuff.  I need to read what I need to read, even if it is old mass paperbacks hidden behind a picture frame on a bookshelf in someone’s cabin.5

  1. Not to say that there’s anything wrong with writing seven whole books about wizard school, it’s just nice to see that there are other ways to do it.

  2. Not to say that there’s anything necessarily wrong with cliff-hangers; it’s just nice to see that there are other ways to do it.

  3. Not to say that there’s anything wrong with writing fantasy books all about light-skinned people steeped entirely in European traditions, it’s just nice to see that there are other ways to do it.

  4. Not to say that there’s anything wrong with realistic and historical fiction, it’s just nice that there are other ways to explore serious themes.

  5. [footnote]Not to say that there’s anything wrong with reading newer middle grade fiction books, it’s just nice to know that there is a lot to be gained from older books as well.[/footnote]

Bored with Book Reviews

I’m getting kind of bored with book reviews. Writing book reviews. Reading book reviews. You know, those ones that begin with a summary of the story, and then a small amount of obligatory opinion/critique/accolades? But not just those ones, also the more long-form bloggy/Pitchfork-y ones where it’s more a showcase for me and my unique and sophisticated perspective, my cleverness, quirkiness or snarkiness, my incredible breadth and depth of knowledge, my wonderful research and analysis, and not so much about the book. I’m pretty much disenchanted with the book review. I want to write something else. I want to read something else. I’m bored.

But I’m not good at sharing my enthusiasm for the books I like in other conventional ways. Like talking, for example.  So that’s a problem when, as a pretend librarian, I have this strange urge to share and promote good books. More importantly, I am in a situation professionally where I need to review books online, and I need to encourage my colleagues to do the same. In our district we need to share and collaborate to get good books into the hands of our students, and the best way to do this is in public, online. And I want to share what I am learning.  It feels almost selfish and wasteful to read a book and then not share what I learned about it and from it with others.

But writing a summary or even accolades for a good book has begun to feel redundant with all the other book reviews out there. If I want to entice others to read the book, the publisher-provided written blurbs often do a better job of selling the book than I could do anyway. That’s the whole point of those things, and one of the reasons authors are so blessed to have publishers, right? Why duplicate efforts? (For example, I’ve wasted way too much time already trying to come up with a summary for A Snicker of Magic that brings anything of value that isn’t already better expressed by the wonderful blurb on the inside flap of the dust jacket. I’m guessing the author drafted that one herself, but whoever wrote that blurb, she/he/they should be proud of it.)

There’s another complication that practically neutralizes my book review drafts into meaninglessness if I think about it too much, and I do think about it too much. That is this whole business of authors, agents, and editors being on twitter and subscribing to Google update alerts for their names and books. So as soon you post anything anywhere about a book, good or bad, (even a 50-year-old title by an author who is long dead) people are suddenly all up in your business converting your praise into a marketing opportunity, or, if you said something negative, possibly having their feelings hurt or at the least attempting damage control. And you are just a random person saying what you like or spouting your opinion, but it all connects and it all has consequences.

Also, if I write or tweet something good about a book or an author I now know the author is likely going to see it, and then the author is practically obligated to respond kindly to me because that is the nature of this social media game. So, being conscious of that, it can begin to feel almost like I am just flattering them to get their attention, to have a personal interaction with a real, published author. But that’s silly to worry about. Authors are just like everyone else, they like to be told when they’ve done a good job, they like to hear that what they have made or done is appreciated and connecting somewhere. I know I sure would like that. Most of the published authors aren’t rich and aren’t famous outside of their little circle of influence. So I really shouldn’t be worried about being overly nice or complementary to authors.  But fear of that interaction tempts me to be more boring  and unsocial in my book reviews, which then further defeats the purpose of writing a book review in the first place.

Occasionally there is the need for criticism, too.  Working with libraries with very small budgets, it is worthwhile to tell/warn people if a book is only just so-so or not good at all, so they can spend their limited funds on the very best stuff.  Just sharing that information in conversation isn’t effective enough, and ignoring a book just makes it look like you don’t know about that book, not that you don’t recommend it.  So it can be necessary to post those negative comments in written form, online.  But because those negative comments usually  then become transparent to the author, it makes me loathe to even post a bad review.  And this sort of thing sure doesn’t inspire me to post anything negative about someone’s book:

Despite this, or maybe because of this, authorial gaze, on the other side there is the occasional temptation to be mean, just to make it more interesting, just to try to make something happen, just to be contrary to the hype, just to try to be funny, and in some cases just because I was genuinely dissatisfied with the book and would have preferred something else. I shouldn’t say mean, I don’t mean mean, I have no desire to be mean. Nor personally destructive. But critical, yes. Contrary, definitely. Maybe even irreverent, when I encounter something that I feel has been unduly sacralized. But not mean. To me there’s a difference, but others may not see that difference.  I don’t genuinely hate very many things, and I want to like most things. But there are books I’ve wanted to like that I just don’t like.  And there are books that everyone else wants me to like that I’m resistant to liking just because of the hype.  I have been trying to teach myself that it is usually more fun to like something than to hate something. But still, listening to the Billboard Hot 100 usually only makes me sad.

So I’m tired of writing book reviews. I think I’d rather just write books, because that will be a lot easier.

Speaking of book reviews, here’s my latest book review:

Recently Read | Because of Winn-Dixie

Detail from the well-worn copy I read, pulled from the juvenile shelf at the West Jordan Public Library.
Detail from the well-worn copy I read, pulled from the juvenile shelf at the West Jordan Public Library.
Because of Winn Dixie | Written by Kate DiCamillo

This is pretty much a perfect book. It’s hard to believe this was a debut novel.  I can’t think of a single thing I would have any differently.  It has the tightness of a poem; it doesn’t feel like there is a single extraneous sentence or unnecessary word in the whole text.  The characters are so great, and it is such a great example of a community being brought together through friendship and love that I could take it to church, or it takes me to church, or something.  It makes me want to be nicer to other people in real life, and maybe even on the Internet too.  (We will see how long that impulse lasts.)

Craft-wise, I think there must have been some intense editing going on here to allow so much to come across with so little.  It would not entirely surprise me to hear that this book was originally drafted twice as long as it ended up published.  But ultimately I think this story was also told with a lot of love, and that might truly be the secret, so it would also not surprise me to find out that some or all of it was cranked out in a single draft almost as-is.  Now that I think more about this, I believe I will need to do some research into DiCamillo’s writing methods.

So, this book succeeds for me on pretty much every level possible: artistically, emotionally, and spiritually.  Plus, it is pretty funny.  In other words, I liked it.  I don’t know if any of her other books (which I’ve already read) will better this one, but that’s okay.  I’ll still be re-exploring them.

[First book read as part of my Kate DiCamillo Author Reading Challenge (in connection with my Newbery+Authors+Classics Reading Challenge), and the only major book by DiCamillo that I had not read before.]


Why Not-Quite-Real?

I’ve begun organizing my posts into four not-quite-real sections.  Why not-quite-real? I have a separate answer for each unreality:

The Pretend Librarian

I don’t work in a school library directly with students and teachers, I don’t have a masters degree in library or information science, and I don’t have a teaching license.  This means that I am not a “real” librarian, so therefore I must be a pretend librarian.

The Bogus Writer

I daydream about writing and talk bogus talk about writing and write about writing much more than I actually write.

The Embarrassed Reader

I see through a glass darkly, and I have not put away childish things.  I am apparently reading way below my suggested Lexile level.  (Also, I am only a pretend librarian and a bogus writer.)

The Not-Quite-Real Dad The Dad

Because I am an official, practicing father of two little children.  One of them even kind of looks like me, and the other one kind of acts like me. My cred is intact here.

Ironic and sincere at the same time.  Not-quite-real. See also: “How the Newbery Medal Leads Me to Hubris and Existential Crisis: A Quandary in Four Parts”

How the Newbery Medal Leads Me to Hubris and Existential Crisis*

A Quandary in Four Parts


Next week the 2014 winners of the Newbery and other ALA Youth Media Awards will be announced.  I’m becoming a bit of a geek about these awards.  I quietly follow the whole Mock Newbery / Mock Caldecott / Mock Whatever scene, and I sometimes like to make my own predictions.  I guess it’s a hobby.  I like it much more than following football or a lot of the other things that more people follow.


Lately I am becoming increasingly aware of my liminal status in the intersecting worlds of education, libraries, technology, and children’s literature.  I am kind of playing Twister** at the four corners,  and I am not completely committed to or officially endorsed by any one of these realms.  Nevertheless, I do what I hope and believe is good work here, and I enjoy it.  The school district keeps giving me a paycheck and more work to do, so that’s at least one major indication that I am in the right place for now.  But  I recognize that at some point I probably need to make some kind of decisive step and throw in with one of the clans, or risk becoming an exile.


Should I go to graduate school to become a “real” librarian, then engage in a calculated series of questionable political maneuvers to place myself within the circles of power in the library world, all to ultimately weasel my way onto the Newbery Committee and help pick the winner one year?



Should I work my butt off writing, with the aim to one day write a book that all those sucker librarians on the Newbery committee will have no choice but to read, talk about, and maybe even slap with a shiny sticker?*  (I’d be perfectly okay with just the silvery one the first time, thanks.)

*But it’s no big deal.  All kinds of things have been known to lead me into existential crises.  Mowing the lawn led me to them on a consistent basis, more consistent than my actual mowing of the lawn.  That’s why it is good I moved to a townhouse.

**I’ve never actually played Twister, and I hate the very idea of playing that game.

*That of course wouldn’t be the primary aim. The primary aim would be writing books that young people will love and that they will beg their parents, teachers, and librarians to purchase in huge quantities.