Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Thursday, May 10, 2018
You may find yourself de facto quality control officer
The Story: You've ordered a whole bunch of books for an author visit, because he's kind of a big deal and you know there will be hundreds of people in the audience. You get them in, have your talk, and as you're handing him books people have bought for them to get autographed, you hear an awful CRACK! He's opened the book to sign, and the cover and first page have come clean off! You apologize profusely and grab another book for the author to sign for his fans. Phew! A couple books later, it happens again. You replace it, and everyone moves on. But then it happens a third time, and then a fourth, and a fifth, and it just keeps happening. By now you realize that something is very wrong. You pull in extra colleagues to quickly go through and open up every book on the sale table, as well as those in boxes on reserve, so that you're only selling good books to people to get signed by their favorite author. You make it through this first event (there are more to come later in the day, though much smaller), and your author comments that he's never seen anything like it before, and how sad it makes him that all his books are broken. He may have a word with his publisher. You assure him that you can send back damaged books to your wholesaler, which makes everybody feel more at ease. Eventually you all disperse to regroup for the later panels with this author, which go off without a hitch, as you've gone through most of the inventory, leaving a few boxes untouched that you know you won't need.
Later, you call your B&T rep to arrange return authorizations and you tell them about all the damaged ones. They'll pay for shipping on the damaged but not the unopened or undamaged. Well, undamaged is fair, but given that more than half of the ones opened were damaged, maybe they should pay for one of the unopened boxes to go back, you suggest. They say that's not an option, so you say, "How about I open the boxes and count up the damaged ones and call you back with another number?" because that seems honest and fair, but the rep rejects that proposal as well, so you sigh and accept it. You repack all the damaged ones back in their original boxes and affix the provided shipping labels and send them on their way. The next day, you open the untouched boxes anyway, because you'll be damned if you're paying for shipping and insurance for broken books (after the post office lost three boxes of books that one year after an author event and you had to fax a form from the dead letter office to the book vendor to prove you actually shipped them back, you ALWAYS get postal insurance, which is probably just what the post office wants you to do). You call back and get the same rep you spoke to yesterday, and ask for return labels for the new number of damaged books. This time she sighs and accepts it. Because both of you know that if she tries to argue with you, that you'll ask to speak to her manager.
But just because she wants to make your life more difficult, the shipping labels she sends you are not for two bigger boxes, which are what these books came in and you have so efficiently already packed and taped and are just awaiting a label, but a dozen smaller boxes. Good thing you haven't been to the recycling bin yet and have extra boxes on hand, but now of course you have to unpack, make up return forms for, and repack over a hundred damaged books. It's also a good thing you ordered way more than you would need, because if you'd estimated demand correctly, dozens of kids would be walking around with broken autographed books.
The Lesson: Unbox and inspect all your books BEFORE your author arrives. Count up all damages BEFORE you call your book rep. Be prepared to play dirty, and don't be too efficient.
No resources this time, as I don't think this is one of those things they write articles about in library school. In fact, the whole nuts-and-bolts of the ordering process was largely glossed over in terms too general to really comprehend, or else skipped entirely. Preparing for an author visit should be a whole unit in a programming/events class, if your school even offers such a thing, but no such curriculum seemed to exist in library school for myself and many of my cohort/librarian generation, regardless of which school we graduated from. They filled our heads with high ideals and principles, with some case study examples of problem patrons, but did very little to tackle a lot of the day-to-day stuff we'd be faced with. Maybe I'm just not remembering it. Maybe they did try to teach us and I wasn't paying attention, but this is the kind of thing I know I would've taken notes on.
Labels:
author visit,
books,
children's,
damage,
physical labor,
programs,
time,
vendors
Sunday, April 8, 2018
You may find yourself holding a camera worth more than your paycheck with no idea how to use it
So, what you're left with is an expensive mystery that should be able to take the perfect shot every time, but somehow manages to fall short. The shots are blurry, the camera takes forever to snap a picture and you've already missed about twelve shots while you're trying to get the right focus on the first one, plus what you see on the screen/through the viewfinder differ greatly from what gets uploaded to the computer. There is a whole bunch of extra ceiling and floor space that doesn't show up on the screen or in the viewfinder, making all your pictures unnecessarily far away. Sure, you can crop it, but who wants to sit there and do that for a hundred pictures that you're just going to dump on facebook for all the kids' parents to tag each other in the comments section of instead of hitting the share button? Sorry, got a little off-topic there.
Not only that, but the pictures are much higher resolution than the ones your old camera used to take, which means they take up a whole lot more space on the memory card. You'll have to buy a bigger one or else delete photos after every transfer so as not to slow down already pokey picture-taking to a crawl. This wouldn't be a big deal if you sorted and uploaded your pictures in a timely manner, but since nobody else on your staff is presently comfortable with sorting pictures and uploading them online, this step of program documentation generally takes a backseat.
Having a staff that isn't necessarily 100% comfortable trying new technology can be a problem when something like this drops in your lap. It can mean that they default to using the old camera, not knowing that the memory card is in the new one, and they don't notice the glaring error message popping up on the screen every time they press the shutter button telling them that the picture isn't actually being saved. Or, it can mean that they don't like covering programs any more because they feel stressed and intimidated by the new camera. You can solve this by having your staff practice taking pictures of displays in the library with the new camera, things that are not going anywhere, so there's nothing to "mess up". It helps if you discover the automatic mode where it senses what kind of picture you're trying to take first, and if you discover the on-off toggle for auto-focus, and the toggle for stabilizers, and point these things out to your staff. There is also a button to turn the screen on and off, and toggling it one way or another seems to help a little with the extra space problem, and also warn those using it to zoom in more than they think they need to, because there will be extra space on the borders regardless.

The Lesson: If you're buying a camera or other equipment that is an upgrade and will be used by the whole library, maybe consult each department about what their plans for it are, what concerns they have, etc. Communication here is key. There's no reason to surprise a department with new technology. Surprises are not always a good thing, and that department may not have the skills nor time to really develop them to actually make that surprise "upgrade" worthwhile.
The Resources: Honestly, the user manuals, how-to camera books, online tutorials, etc., all got really damn technical. I didn't have the time to take a whole photography class just to learn how to make the expensive new toy take a decent picture. In an active program, which most children's programs are, I just need to point, shoot, repeat, in rapid succession. I'm sure this camera could do that, but I didn't know how to make it. Learning about the auto-focus and smart-shooting mode helped, but not enough. We did have a professional photographer who said they'd come in and show us how to use the camera properly, but it wound up not being an issue. See the aside for that story.
An Aside: About six months after we got this camera, maybe a little more, it got stolen. Someone from reference used it to take pictures of a program and forgot to lock it up after, leaving it sitting out on the desk. While all librarians were distracted with helping patrons, somebody swiped it. By this point, we had a new memory card in it so we could at least go back to the old camera with the old card for a while. The higher-ups were so mad about the loss of camera that it looked like we'd be stuck with the 8-year-old model until it was old enough to drive. Eventually, though, they were persuaded to replace the expensive mishap with a less-expensive, but still high-quality camera that had fewer bells and whistles. Thankfully, this one was easier to operate, and now staff were very careful about putting it away after use. The technophobic members of the staff were a bit more comfortable with it, and now that's the only one we use if we can help it.
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
You may wind up not going to that off-site training after all
![]() |
| Stolen from the Google; impossible to tell who first took it |
The Story: I was notified by another town department that there were last-minute openings in a narcan (anti-overdose drug) training taking place off-site the next day in the evening, hosted by a local rehab clinic. I got the OK from the boss, arranged after-work home plans, and emailed back the person from the other town department. Huzzah, I got a reply the next day that I was signed up for that night's class. I was told it was at such-and-such church the next town over. I google said church, get an address, and head out. The address takes me to a church whose name on the sign out front does not match the one I was given, but I figure it's got to be the right place because the address matches. I drive around a little first just to make sure there isn't another church right up the road (because New England is lousy with churches and it's not uncommon to find them in clusters), but this one is all there is.
I get to the aforementioned church about ten minutes early, and walk straight into the middle of an AA meeting. Someone in the meeting knows the rehab clinic people putting on my theoretical training, and tries to call them, but to no avail. He then directs me to another church that while its name ALSO is not technically such-and-such, it is colloquially called that, and maybe that was the church the organizers meant. So, I drive a few miles to the other church, and walk into the middle of a Christmas pageant rehearsal. I ask a bewildered mom if there would be another such-and-such church, and she sends me to yet a third church whose name is not that, but that is sometimes called that. I find my way there, and stumble upon a second Christmas pageant rehearsal. A second bewildered mom tells me the only church she knows called such-and-such is the first one that I went to. So, I go back there, find the AA meeting letting out, and ask someone if there is another meeting going on in the church proper or anywhere else that evening. He says no, but that the pastor is in by now and maybe he can help me. So, he takes me downstairs to the pastor's office, who has no clue about this meeting taking place at all, and he would be the one who does all the scheduling, so he would know.
He lets me use his computer, though, to check my email in case I got some stupid detail wrong, but I didn't, and I show him the email I got and he goes, "Well, that's us, and today, and the right time, but they're not here." After shooting an email back to the organizer, I thanked him and left, and he wished me luck, but didn't bless me, which maybe means he knew there was no saving me from the type of lost I was. I get in my car and call my boss, give him the short version of why after an hour of driving around I'm not going to the training, and decide to head home. My phone then dies. It was a miracle that it survived multiple GPS trips and a phone call as it was, but perhaps the divine destinations had something to do with that. So, I head off in the direction I HOPE the highway is, and resolve to get some fast food on the way home for mollification, foregoing a pit stop at the liquor store. Several hours after I get home, I get an email from the town department organizer, apologizing for giving me the wrong information. Apparently it was at such-and-such library, not such-and-such church.
The Lesson: The devil is in the details. Piddly little things, like addresses, or the actual names of locations, can help attendees find their way to events. Even if it seems straight-forward and obvious, always clarify these things before setting out.
The Resources: I used old-fashioned printed google maps directions to get to the first location the first time, because I knew my phone was likely to die from a 15-minute GPS trip (even starting out at 100% charge, which it was), and I wanted to save it for in case I got well and truly lost. Shockingly, this got me to the first church with no major hiccups. After that, I just used the GPS app on my phone to get me to the other locations. It did, in fact, die before making that phone call, and I sat in my car charging it for a while until it had enough juice to call my boss, before it died again completely. It was 20 degrees and very dark out, and I didn't want to wait for it to charge again to maybe get me home, but I was lucky I had that car-to-phone charger handy anyway.
Friday, August 4, 2017
You may have to shovel gravel for multiple hours (Butterfly Garden Part 1)

The Story: Spring is coming, and you decide it would be a great learning experience for the children to raise butterflies at the library. Then, you think how great it would be for them to do some good for the planet and build a butterfly garden. You have the perfect spot in mind: plenty of sun, nothing growing there now, and it even gets some visibility as people drive by on their way to the book drop. The only problem is that it is covered in gravel at least three inches thick, on top of a weed barrier cloth, on top of hard-packed clay. You don't know any of this yet.
Here is the before picture:
So you enlist the help of the custodian, who is the only person on staff accustomed to physical labor, as you know nobody else will volunteer for this task, and you start shoveling. Of course you have to talk to the boss to get off-desk time for the project and permission to wear ratty jeans while you're working. Ever try to garden in business casual? I don't recommend it.
You think this will take a couple of hours. When you estimated this for the boss, you didn't take into account how dense this gravel was, and you didn't realize how deep it was either. There's also the task of redistributing the gravel to other beds once you've removed it from this one. Two or three hours is not enough.
I can't tell you how many hours we spent in total, but it was a lot. It took multiple sessions of a couple or more hours at a time to get the appropriate amount of gravel cleared away. I was sore for a day or two after each time, but it was the good soreness that can only come from knowing you've worked physically hard and accomplished something.
The Lesson: It will always take longer than you think it will. A bin full of gravel takes two people to lift. The weather will not cooperate with your availability schedule. There will be problems that you did not foresee, and you will just have to deal with them. You've already started this garden project, and it's too late to back out now.
The Resources: Hopefully you have a few good, sturdy shovels on hand for digging. In the absence of a wheelbarrow, a low, flat book cart with plastic bins on them makes a good gravel transport. Having deodorant in your work locker is something you'll be grateful that you already do after a day of shoveling gravel when you have to get presentable again for your shift at the desk.
Stay tuned for more mishaps and adventures in creating a library butterfly garden from scratch.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)




