Because Twitter and Facebook just aren't enough for expressing my library woes, I say once more, with brevity, that I'm just not feeling the Queens Library. (Is it any coincidence that any public librarian I know works at either BPL or NYPL?) Despite my MLS and public library background, I would actually like to set foot in an NYC branch library as little as possible. Brooklyn had a lot of books I wanted in its system, and many available not just electronically but in Kindle format. So far, I've been striking out with Queens, which I don't even think has a hand, recognizable acronym. To be fair, Queens usually does have the books I want, but not often in electronic versions but in weirdo formats that forced me to download reader apps like Blio and Google Play Books before finding one that worked (Bluefire Reader). When I've tried putting physical books, the only format available, on hold (John Williams' Stoner, Nell Zink's The Wallcreeper, Lindsay Hunter's Ugly Girls, and Joseph O'Neill's The Dog.) I've only received error messages. Plus, very time I go to the website via laptop or tablet, it asks me to input my library card # and password even though I've checked "keep me signed in" so I have to search my email for the account info since I don't have a tangible card. This never happened with Brooklyn! I've continued relying on my Brooklyn library account and will until it expires maybe next year.
Ok, that wasn't brief.
My point is that I finally found something Queens library has that Brooklyn doesn't: the electronic version of The First Bad Man with only two holds on it. Brooklyn didn't have it at all, just a print version with 65 holds. (Ok, now they do and it requires a weirdo reader app, 3M Cloud Library, that isn't one I've already messed with, so really all public libraries are a mess despite offering free reading material that I shouldn't complain about) When Queens does have something you, or rather I, want, the odds are fewer residents care about it than in Brooklyn. This is a good thing.
But the best thing was the cataloging: Middle-aged Women–Fiction.
I'm really becoming fond of Miranda July, now that she's a middle-aged mom, now that she opens up in The New York Times about her hatred of Garfield.
I'm about one-third of the way through this book. (Another problem is that an ebook just becomes available all willy nilly and I get access for two weeks, which means I'm always in the middle of one, when another opens up. The two-week countdown starts when you're alerted, not when you download it, so I never seem to make it more than 55% of the way through book before it disappears. The Dog went poof last week and Stoner only has two days left.) So far, a lot of the premise has been building up, and I like where it's going.
Cheryl, the main character, has gray short hair, works at a self-defense nonprofit and is 43.