American Libraries

Mary Doria Russell: Hello. My name is Mary R. and I am a shopper junky. I blame you, librarians of America. I was just an innocent child when I started riding my bike to the Helen M. Plum Memorial Library in Lombard, Illinois. Every Saturday morning, all summer along, one of the librarians would read Dr. Seuss books to little kids under a big old maple tree in front of the library. The Cat in the Hat. Horton Hears a Who! To Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street. Dr. Seuss: The gateway drug of book pushers. In the 1950's The Helen M. Plum Memorial Library was still housed in the late Mrs. Plum's house. The children's section was in her dining room and I still remember when one of the librarians said to me, "You look like it a smart little girl, I bet you'd like Nancy Drew." Nancy Drew: The tobacco of literature. "Just take a little puff. It will make you look older and more sophisticated. It's a chapter book." Don't sit there looking innocent. I know you're out on street corners, pushing Harry Potter at innocent children. Everything that's happened to me since 1956 is all your fault. I hope you're proud of yourselves.

Geraldine Brooks: So I knew if I wrote a book that had librarians in it I'd get to come to the ALA. It worked. But just to make sure, I dedicated to you, too. No, that's not why. People of the Book is dedicated to the librarians. There are two reasons why: one is that after you learn the history of what librarians did in Sarajevo, it's the only decent thing to do; and the other is that librarians were crucial in my childhood. I too, was a victim of your pusher tendencies. The very first book that I read that kept me awake—the one I couldn't put down—was a book I borrowed when I was nine years old from the local library in Concord, which is a suburb of Sydney, Australia. And it was called The Valley of Adventure by Enid Blyton. I saw in the children's pages of the Sunday paper a couple of weeks later that somebody had the whole series for sale—used books for sale—the adventure series. And I can remember the day they arrived; I was so excited. I laid them out in series on the green carpet on the dining room floor. And I started to have this weird feeling. My heart was thumping and I was feeling a little flushed and I was a bit tight in the back of the throat and I never had this feeling before and I didn't know what to call it. It wasn't unpleasant, exactly, but it was definitely strange. Well, I was nine then and it would be six years before I had that feeling again, in a very different context. And by then I had a word for it and that word was "lust."

Question: Do you ever worry about the future of the book as people who write historical fiction or any other kind of fiction? Do you think that the book will be replaced as a medium?

Mary Doria Russell: The idea of the Kindle probably appeals to me pretty strongly. My books are hideously abused. I scribble on them, I dog-ear them, I do all kinds of terrible things to them because they're tools for me. I think a Kindle would also be good for that in that it could probably scan for words. It would be a lot easier for me to find things I'm looking for, like an index that went to Heaven. Global searches for a word—that would be great. So I could see how this could really be a tremendous tool. What I'm using right now, however, because I'm working on the 1870's, I am going to Abe's Books all the time. If I could do that electronically, that would be cool. And I have to admit I like the idea that there are some books that really aren't worth the trees—Dan Brown's. Bad girl.

Question: You're a wonderful correspondent and I wonder what did drive you to the dark side.

Geraldine Brooks: I was looking for a new gig. I had written Nine Parts of Desire, which is a journalist book. I tried to share some of the experiences I had living among the women in the Middle East. And your title is from one of my favorite quotes in literature, Dreamers of the Day. This T.E. Lawrence, "All men dream; but not equally. Some wake up...but the dreamers the day are dangerous men, for they may act out their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible." As I did. (Applause)