Strathcona County is well-known as the home of a largely affluent population; in the 2012 census, almost 90% of the hamlet’s residents reported making over $40,000 a year. While this statistic might suggest that a need for cheap access to print materials is not as high as in lower income areas, the community has a thriving, well-accessed library system.

The newest edition of the Strathcona County Library opened in late 2010 as part of a brand new Strathcona County Community Centre (the former library was located in the municipality’s local shopping mall). The new library is beautiful, clearly designed to be not only briefly visited but enjoyed for long periods by its patrons. It is full of natural light and laid out in a thoughtful manner, with plenty of seating and rooms for group meetings or quiet study.

When I visit, one of the librarians is kind enough to take me on a tour and explain the layout and general philosophy of the library to me. She repeatedly employs the phrase “the community’s living room” to describe Strathcona County’s ultimate vision for the public space: the library as an extension of its patrons homes, a place to relax and not only access, but enjoy, library materials. Certainly, the library has achieved its mandate. In fact, the librarian remarks that the library has become a regular destination for locals. Some patrons take the morning off of work to just come here and read the collection’s newspapers and magazines and relax. In some cases, I am told, they will stay all day.

First: a general description to orient you. Standing at the entrance to the library, to the left is a small cafe serving coffee and small snacks, with seating for people to visit. The general fiction collection also starts here, beginning with rows of genre fiction and continuing with literary fiction, winding through the entire bottom left half of the library with the exception of the back walls, which house a generous Large Print section. To the right of the entrance is an administrative desk and, further on, the multimedia section, filled with audiobooks and CDs, blu-rays and DVDs, and playaways (self-contained audio book players). The teen section comes next, followed by the school-aged children’s section. Continuing to circle left from here is the Enchanted Forest, the area devoted to materials for small children and toddlers. At the very back are multi-use programming rooms.

As you enter the library, in the center next to a building directory is an assortment of shelves occupied by face-out books that have been curated by the librarians. The front entry is arranged this way purposefully. The librarian says that, formerly, everyone entering the library seemed to naturally veer right to where the checkout counter, shelves of holds and interlibrary loans, and information desk are located. In response, the librarians decided to move other sections of the library forward in order to draw people further into the library.

The first two shelves are new books the librarians have chosen to showcase and a shelf that is at the moment titled “Villains:” the latest incarnation of a constantly rotating themed shelf (I later see it variously titled as “Classics With A Twist,” “National Aboriginal Day,” and “Strathcona Celebrates”). A selection of the titles from this week’s theme: Beowulf, the His Mortal Instruments series, a nonfiction book on gangsters and bootleggers, Les Miserables, and Stephen King’s The Stand. I am told that the books arranged here often fly off the shelves; they are reshelved with replacement books hourly as the librarians sweep through the library refilling empty slots. One of the most successful former themes also seems the most unlikely: books with specific cover colours (in the latest instance it was green) pulled off shelves from around the library and arranged together on the rack. It was a total hit, the librarian says, most probably because a solid wall of colour is eye-catching and easily tempts someone to draw closer long enough for one of the books to pique their interest.

Along with a shelf proclaiming “New,” some of the other shelves in the front entrance are simply labelled “Read.” Among the selected books on these shelves are a couple bright red bags of books that have been tied shut with ribbon. The label on each of the bags reads “Grab Bags for Grown Ups.” These are essentially mini variations on the themed shelf with the addition of an element of surprise--or, for the especially indecisive, the absence of a need to choose. Three books are chosen by librarians and then sealed inside the red bag, to be discovered when a patron opens it at home. I chose a bag called “Journey to the 2nd Floor,” which contained three nonfiction books (the nonfiction section of the library is located on the second floor of the building).

Another of the grab bags is labelled “Dysfunctional.”

Behind these shelves of books is a stand holding “Patron’s Picks” and “Staff Picks.” When patrons return a book, they can slip a nominating bookmark into the book they have enjoyed and the library displays them as recommendations. Likewise, library staff can write their name on a card to insert into a book they want displayed. The librarian hopes to eventually add staff pictures so people can begin to piece together who's recommending particular books. That way, if patrons enjoy their picks, they will be more easily able to look for them. The librarian says she has heard people talking about how "I got a Jocelyn pick," for example. They begin to develop an interest in a particular staff member’s taste in materials. "Peer to peer recommendation," the librarian calls it. It’s the greatest indicator of what other people besides yourself are actually reading and enjoying. "It's like having a conversation with someone you've never met,” says the librarian.

A similar online function on the library website has not been as successful in influencing patron reading habits. Neither has the library’s online book club, which only ever attracts a few regular participants. People want someone else to actually speak with or to feel as though someone has physically placed a book there for them rather than suggested a book in a manner that resembles any other preference algorithm on the web. On my many visits to the SCL, the “Staff Picks” shelf is often full when I arrive and empty when I leave an hour later.

Near the cafe are racks of the most popular newspapers and magazines, as well as a seasonal rack. The librarian has a themed section of gardening magazines currently, but this stand will eventually be switched out to reflect the time of year. There is also a recommendation shelf of nonfiction next to the stairs so people will be drawn upstairs and realize there is an additional area of books. Behind all of the shelves in the entrance are shelves of bestsellers and recent bestsellers, available for shorter loans. Adjacent to these are stands full of bagged books, similar to the adult grab bags. Labelled Discovery Bags and the Enchanted Express, these bags contain 5 materials each, selected by librarians, that parents can pick up for their school-aged or younger children without a lot of fuss. It makes picking up interesting materials at the library convenient for busy parents, so focussing on their children’s literacy skills is made easy.

The assortment of shelves in the foyer of the library strives to draw patrons in so that they feel compelled to browse and discover what more the library has to offer. The library’s organizational tactic seems to work. The librarian leading me through the building explains that from where she usually sits to work, the information desk set halfway back into the library beyond the eye-catching shelves of arranged books, she probably only ever sees one quarter of the patrons who come into the library. Many, she says, never make it past the recommendation stands. They have, presumably, already got what they came for. This seems to indicate that when it comes to choosing a book at the library, people are more interested in finding a book that another reader has passed along than searching out specific genres, authors, or books. The book becomes more interesting because of its relation to a reading community. It is particularly interesting and telling that the library places shelves of bestsellers and “hits” behind its shelves curated by local readers. They are placing greater value on the personal preferences of the community than on sales reports and lists compiled through some economic formula or prescribed canonical importance. What seems to be popular at the library, consequently, is more varied than a bestseller list.

As I am led through the library, I am intrigued by the arrangement of its materials. More than a typical library space (I’m most familiar with EPL), the shelves of the SCL remind me of a book store, labelled and sorted in a way that catches the eye rather than simply efficiently filling space. The librarian says they try to have a lot of face out books to draw people in, much like the books in the foyer. Every other row of books has a top shelf of face out material. While this limits how many books can be placed on the shelf, it achieves an impulsive effect on a browsing patron (okay, me) similar to what is felt at a branch of Chapter’s. The face out books tend to be hardcovers and recently published. The effect is felt particularly in the nonfiction section upstairs, where one expects timely, relevant materials. Rather than a musty, old nursing home for books, the library is a place to discover something new to love. Frankly, it makes me excited to borrow books from the library.

A group of knitters sits and chats in an alcove of chairs I pass during my tour. They come here every Wednesday, I am told, and the librarian says it gives her shivers that they independently organized a weekly group using the library space; it means that the staff has successfully cultivated an inviting setting for community members. There are also plenty of private rooms upstairs for gathering--many occupied currently by lone studiers--as well as book club kits for groups to sign out. Everything is geared towards participation.

A notable section of the library is its Large Print collection. Rather than being relegated to a back corner of the general fiction collection like sad, oversized folios, the Large Print materials are shelved in a welcoming and open space, spread out along the back walls. There is a table and chairs to lounge in and the library even stocks the only magazine that is issued in large print format: Reader’s Digest. While the arrangement is in general just a smart move--those who require large print books, mostly seniors, have a higher likelihood of being mobility impaired and so need more space to navigate and would benefit from the closeness of the section to the entrance--it also speaks to a demand for large print materials and so implies a large demographic of senior patrons at the SCL. The large print section is “well-loved” says the librarian.

Another well-loved area of the library collection is the Enchanted Forest, playfully arranged around a large tree at the back of the library. “When you step into the Enchanted Forest, magic happens,” the librarian says. The tree in the Enchanted Forest has a secret door in it that the librarians fill with surprises so that kids will excitedly run back to their section of the library. Books are arranged into categories that relate to reading level or types of learning: Picture Books, Read Alouds, Easy Information, Beginning Readers, and Folk and Fairy Tales. There is plenty of space for children to run around and play, as well as an area for parents to sit and read; a selection of magazines has been brought down from upstairs to accommodate parents who are waiting while their kids browse. This implies that many children experience print materials on their own, while their parents spend time reading separately.

The selection of books on display in the Enchanted Forest seems to be mostly fictional storybooks. In contrast, over in the Discovery Zone for school-aged kids, the emphasis seems to be on non-fiction materials, especially books on nature and science. There is also a sizeable section of French language materials. The area, much like the Enchanted Forest, promotes independent reading and browsing. There is an alcove to hang out in filled with board games and bean bag chairs; kids can even check out a Wii game system to play with.

Nearby, the teen section is arranged in a way that suggest privacy from younger kids and adults, with its own lounge area and collection of computer terminals. Within the teen space is also the libraries graphic novel and manga collection, suggesting that young adults are the primary readers of the genre.

Each of the youth sections has its own set of age-appropriate magazines, displays of award-nominated books, and advertisements for special programming. The way the library has arranged each distinct section fosters independent reading communities that promote personal relationships with print materials. A grouping of computer stations in each separate area also shows the library’s commitment to balancing availability of digital services with its offering of physical materials.

Upstairs, the space is divided between a nonfiction collection, magazines and newspapers, and space for patrons to work or relax. The library offers many materials geared towards not just pleasure reading, but practical help for patrons. At the top of the stairs is a section of books on career and postsecondary advice, print materials for newcomers to Canada, easy english books for ESL learners, and other business oriented texts. The librarian remarks that the library caters Maslow’s hierarchy of needs as a philosophical approach to serving the community. It is no surprise, then, that this section of practical print is placed at the front of the nonfiction collection. In addition to fostering creativity, spontaneity, and community, which reflect needs at the later stages of human motivation, this section of the library aids people in attaining their more primary needs of resources and security. Books like these aren’t always acknowledged as “popular,” but they are some of the materials that are most commonly sought out at a library.

Elsewhere, in nonfiction, the library bears an even stronger resemblance to a bookstore in its labelling. In additions to call numbers, the nonfiction section is labelled according to interest. Rather than topics being indicated on small signs on the sides of shelves, different subject areas are listed with headers on individual shelves, such as Relationships, Computers, Spirituality, or Social Issues. This succeeds to attract people's attention, and contrasts to the stuffy feel of a typical nonfiction library section, where you can get lost in the stacks. Shelves are no taller than the average person and so don’t cut browsing patrons off from each other, heightening the sense of the library and its community-focus. Small placards recommending books are sprinkled among the collection. In the Astronomy aisle, one such placard refers browsers over to the People section: “Already know the laws of gravity but want a better mind for physics? Delve into Kitty Ferguson’s Stephen Hawking: An Unfettered Mind.” Again, the library is successful in creating the feeling that browsing its materials allows you to connect to a physical community of other readers.

Part of the library’s success of creating a sense of community is their enthusiasm for honouring patron requests. Many of the library’s programs and arrangement of space is in response to patron feedback. The Read Aloud section of the Enchanted Forest was born from such a request, as was a chair next to a curated section of Large Print at the bottom of the stairs, so seniors could rest while they browse. Patron wishes are their first priority!

But if you want to know what's really popular, the librarian tells me, it's not just the books. It's the library’s adult programs, of which there are over a hundred. The week I visit they are running a genealogy program. A sign at the front entrance headed “What’s Happening This Week” also lists programs such as a poetry discussion group, a teen writing group, and various ESL circles. From the library website, I also learn they have programs oriented towards familiarizing patrons with particular genres. I decide to go to one called Mystery Lovers.

The program is held in one of the rooms at the back past the Enchanted Forest. Besides myself, there are ten other people in attendance, all over 50 years old. I’m not sure whether this is because that is the demographic of mystery readers, or because the program is held on a weekday afternoon, when many people are probably at work. What is interesting about the presentation is that it is oriented to helping print-focused readers use digital tools to access more print. In addition, it reveals to me how much I don’t know about a genre I generally regard as homogenous. The mystery genre encompasses many sub-genres--hard-boiled, cozy mysteries, traditional, British mysteries--which I seem to be the only one in the room to be discovering for the first time. If readers like books with a gritty tone, or like to read mysteries with well-developed characters or fast-paced writing styles, there are ways to find all of these. The patrons in attendance put up their hands to ask how to find novels that follow protagonists with very specific character traits. I soon realize that this dedicated group of mystery readers has much more sophisticated reasons for their attraction to a genre than I, a “scholar of literature,” have ever had for picking up a book. And here I was assuming that they just wanted a quick, cheap read! When the presentation is over (to some dissatisfaction, I feel), the mystery lovers stay to mingle and trade book suggestions. I get the impression this is the primary reason they came, to connect with like-minded readers, rather than to dabble with digital tools.

In addition to adult programming, the library organizes summer reading games to promote literacy while kids are not in school. This year, a whopping 2626 kids have signed up to play. The game looks like a souped-up version of a classic children’s board game: the theme for the game is “I Spy” like the classic children’s find-an-object books. Once a day, participating children can the game’s dice in order to move around the board. Every square has little jokes or interesting facts accompanied by a reading suggestion for the day, such as “Read a book about friends and family” or “Read an old favorite.” When children pass out of one coloured section of the board into another, they get a prize--sometimes a toy, but mostly used former library books. When they cross the finish line, children get a brand new paperback as a prize. They can even start playing the game from the beginning all over again. It is a clever and fun way to persuade a child to come to the library every day and read a book. The book prizes also promote a passion for reading by introducing children to new material they might otherwise not have encountered. One of my first experiences with science fiction as a child was a result of participating in the library’s reading game.

Certainly, there is something to be gained from the library as a physical space that can be shared. As a place for community gathering--community of readers--people feel more connected to what they read; print gains importance through its social context. People can easily access a lot of their chosen content online--even through the library website; hoopla allows users to access audio and ebooks and zinio provides access to magazines--but choose to access materials through the library because it turns an isolated activity, one that arguably feels even more isolating for those who spend most of their work day already in front of a screen, into a social experience.

Last Updated: Dec 30, 2016