The Oliver Little Free Library began as a Make Something Edmonton project in 2013, inspired by the Little Free Library movement that Todd Bol initiated in 2009 (https://littlefreelibrary.org/). The mandate of the movement, according to the official website, is to “promote literacy and the love of reading by building free book exchanges worldwide and to build a sense of community as we share skills, creativity, and wisdom across generations.”

Helping to reach this goal, the Oliver community in Edmonton decided to transform 10 old newspaper boxes into small libraries accessible to anyone walking in the neighbourhood. They had local artists and community members decorate and personalize the boxes, then enlisted the city and local businesses to host the boxes around the neighbourhood. The result? A quirky and much-beloved circulating book collection, full of texts people are passing on in hopes others will enjoy them as much as they have, books they will never use, books they have read too many times, and books they hope to get rid of in a way that has a soft impact on the earth.

Oliver is one of the oldest neighbourhoods in the city and, just outside the main downtown core, it is also one of the densest--West Oliver is actually the densest area population-wise in all Alberta. Additionally, it is a trendy area; a lot of new and stylish businesses and restaurants are located nearby. Because of this, the neighbourhood can be an expensive place to live, so it is safe to say that not a lot of lower income families or individuals reside in the area. Financial need is less the impetus for the boxes’ regular use than the community members' desire to connect with other readers and be pleasantly surprised by the discovery of what others might be reading. On a nice day, it is easy to visit all but two of the OLFL boxes (which are placed outside of the general Oliver area) in order to get a sense of what kind of material the neighbourhood is reading and sharing.

I begin my walking tour of the Oliver Little Free Libraries (OLFL) outside the Oliver Community League Hall. Families regularly walk past (it is a lazy Sunday) and a man enjoys the sun on a park bench next to the playground. I am a pessimist, so up until the moment I open this first repurposed newspaper box, I expect it to be empty and unmaintained.

The OLFL boxes all have some form of the phrase “Take a Book, Leave a Book” painted somewhere on their surface. It’s an honour system, which makes me suspicious. However, when I open the box, I am delighted to find plenty of books--twelve in total--stacked haphazardly inside, rather than in the neat indexed rows of a true library. It reminds me of the disorganized stacks of books I have at home, lovingly picked through and strewn about as someone looks for the perfect book to take home.

Community members who answered a short survey I sent out indicated that they liked to come by regularly--multiple times a week--to browse the contents of the boxes, and would usually bring replacement books the next time they swung by. Otherwise, they simply visit and add a pile of books they are finished with to the ones already there. The contents seem to come from a variety of individuals, or one very eclectic reader; there is no rhyme or reason to what has been left. Unsurprisingly, there are a few duds. I have a feeling that the Accounting Information Systems manual will not be much of a hit, nor will the Reporting Technical Information textbook. The box is not only a place where people trade loved books, but also dispose of unwanted tomes in a guilt-free manner. (Recycling!) The rest of the materials consist of some best-sellers (a John Grisham, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo series), some well-worn thrillers, a book on wine, a history of Mexico, a young-adult novel, and a couple of literary novels.

The bestsellers are at the front--probably newer additions; the textbooks languish at the back. Some of my survey respondents remarked that they like to find reference books, so I might be mistaken in thinking that the books won’t end up in good hands. In fact, when I revisit the box a week later, the two textbooks are gone and there is an almost entirely fresh batch of books. One of the stewards of one of the Oliver Little Library boxes told me that all the boxes have people responsible for monitoring and upkeeping them, so the textbooks might also just have been weeded out. Certain book donation programs, such as the Greater Edmonton Library Association’s Prison Library Project, ask that these kind of print materials be excluded because they have limited use for readers after a year past their publication date.

Happily, the box is just as full upon a returning visit, now containing a mixture of bestsellers, genre fiction, and dated self-help books on mothering and child-rearing (obviously someone thinning out their personal library.)

While I’m investigating the Community League box for a second time, a couple of teenagers walk by and casually ask if “there was anything good in there today,” as though they regularly check, particularly whether there is any Stephen King inside. I confirm and he takes the massive volume of It. “I’ll be back later to trade something for it,” he assures me.

There is an outdoor pool across the square from this location; I imagine in a few weeks time, as the weather warms up, the box will receive even more visitors looking for a book to read poolside while ignoring their screaming children. After I remove all of the books and replace them, I wander to the next nearest library box outside SNAP Gallery. As I leave, a woman walks by with a tote bag, takes out some books and slips them into the Little Library. It looks as though she has come by with the express purpose of donating books, which is one of the more popular uses for the library boxes, next to just browsing intermittently to see what is inside (according to survey responses).

The walk to SNAP is through neighbourhood densely populated with trees and containing a community garden allotment, more evidence of the Oliver community’s emphasis on collaboration and sharing, part of what makes the Little Library initiative so successful in this neighbourhood. Just don’t get any ideas about liberating produce! The garden has signs warning off thieves.

SNAP Gallery is a printmaking studio located on busy Jasper Avenue, one of the city’s main entertainment districts. The box located outside is decorated to have a more radical feel, black and graffitied. As I approach, a man rolls by on a bike and takes a look inside; he has brought a bag with a couple paperbacks inside to trade (he is also here to tidy up; after he leaves, the mess of books is stacked neatly in tight rows). When I ask him about the box, he says that it gets a lot of use because of the high volume of foot traffic in the area.

The holder on the inside of the newspaper box is stuffed with Oliver walking guides and a community newsletter, so the box is not only a place to trade books but also to communicate and pass on street print. This little library is quite full and contains mostly well-used mass market materials--although there are a few more literary novels by Timothy Findley inside. Thrillers (King, Grisham, Patterson) and romance novels abound. There are also a couple of Reader’s Digest magazines.

A high-rise seniors centre is located only a block away, so perhaps the contents of this box reflect an older demographic’s tastes. One survey respondent, indicating herself as a senior, says she comes to the box often to search for mysteries and thrillers for herself and her less-mobile friend. Her other friend, she says, likes Louise Penney mysteries and other similar “lighter” mysteries. She also likes cookbooks as long as they are recent and further remarks that the SNAP gallery box has very high content turnover. She also indicates that she would like to bring books to a little boy who lives nearby, but there never seem to be any for his age group.

However, when I return, there are a few child-oriented materials and some teen fiction. Someone has also left an entire cardboard box of books next to the Little Library, containing textbooks and french language nonfiction. While, in many ways, the OLFL program is a good way to see what people are reading, often it also seems to reflect just what people want to get rid of, with no consideration of what others might like to read. At least the chaotic mess inside this time around suggests that people are rifling through it for good finds.

Next on my walk is the Little Free Library located in Paul Kane Park, a place which seems designed for repose. The park is filled with benches situated around a man-made creek that runs through the middle. A few pedestrians stroll by. The box looks finger painted, which highlights that many people in the community contributed to the project. This box is also stuffed full, but with a more cerebral selection of books. Philosophy, engineering, and literary materials are collected inside. Still, they are quite varied in the array of subjects represented.

The next Little Library box is only a few blocks away, outside Robertson-Wesley church and across the street from Mountain Equipment Co-op. The church’s sign, I think, quite effectively sums up the kind of people that live and pass through the area--those interested in culture and supporting local enterprises.

The box is weathered and collaged with faded pictures. The books inside are organized neatly. The music and communications director for the church is the “librarian” for this box and she says she rarely has to fill up the box (from church book sales) to supplement its contents and has never had to remove inappropriate material. Like myself, she is impressed with how much the inventory of the Little Libraries turns over.

This location has a lot of nonfiction and many of the books relate to food. A woman walks by while I am sorting and considers the pile of books that I have laid out, eventually selecting a Wally Lamb book and walking away silently. This is definitely a potentially high foot traffic area; churchgoers pass by as do many strollers and shoppers coming from or heading to busy 124th Avenue.

The route to the next library box, inside the Duchess Bake Shop, is down this bustling street, full of happy brunchers flocking to the area for its many interesting restaurants. It’s always impossible to park down here, so foot traffic increases.

The Duchess Bake Shop is a beautiful, french-inspired bakery; it is typically packed on weekends. A sign above the rows of pastries stresses the local ingredients that make up the bake shop’s made-from-scratch products. Next door, until it burned down a few months ago, was the Roxy Theatre, a longtime cultural hub in Edmonton. The Little Library box inside the bakery is arguably the prettiest of the bunch, designed and painted by local artist Salgado Fenwick. The box sits next to stands of free local publications in the corner of the shop nearest the front door. I imagine this corner is well-browsed.

For people coming to spend a lazy morning sipping on coffee and reading, there is plenty of material from which to select. Unfortunately, because the Duchess is so busy (sometimes there are lineups reaching right out the door) it can be difficult to get near the print materials to browse them. Nonetheless, the box does not disappoint; like the other boxes, it contains a variety of books. Half the collection are Anne Perry thriller books, but the miniature library also houses some young adult fiction, a children’s book, and one of Naomi Klein’s politicized tomes. When I revisit a week later, there are fewer books but a new children’s book. A lot of families come here, so it is probably a popular Little Library to cycle kids books through.

I suspect this box gets used on a more accidental or spontaneous basis than some of the other boxes along the route, happened upon by chance after coming in to get coffee or pastries instead of browsed on regular walks past. Tweets regarding the Oliver Little Free Libraries--using a hashtag, #yeglfl, only printed on this one box--express surprise or excitement at finally coming across one of these boxes of which they have only heard from word of mouth before now. That the amount of print materials inside have decreased over the week also shows that the people who snagged books did not plan ahead so they could trade. Even so, at least one person came here with the express purpose of using it to share books; it seems like more than a coincidence that so many Anne Perry novels are stored in one place, especially since I have not seen them in any of the other boxes. I for one am here for the sour cream and cherry pie, so I conclude my walking tour for the day.

On another beautiful day, I go walking through the other half of the Oliver neighbourhood in order to find the rest of the Little Library bins. First stop: Grant Notley Park, overlooking the river. Lots of people pass through as I sit in the park alongside a few other people lounging and enjoying the sun. The Grant Notley Little Free Library sits next to a row of benches across from a gazebo, a perfect spot to sit down and enjoy a book. This box is slightly less stocked than the others I have visited so far and half of the contents inside are copies of a nonfiction travel story written--and obviously distributed--by a local author. It is an interesting way to use the boxes, to self-distribute material. It means that the author, at the very least, thinks that the boxes get enough use that they can help him gain a readership.

Alongside the local author’s books is a mix of some Christian materials, bestsellers, and youth-oriented materials. After I sort through the contents and begin taking pictures of the park, someone walks by to ask me what I am doing and expresses surprise--”it’s probably empty...oh! I was wrong”-- when he opens the box and it actually has books inside. Like me, he expected that a publicly shared initiative run on “this honour system type of thing” might not work. He remarks that this type of thing definitely would not survive on the north side of Edmonton, where he is from.

I leave the park and head over to Quinn House Condo. Most of the people who answered my survey seem to live here or around here because it is the most frequently used box that was indicated. I’m sure there is more incentive to bring books to and from the box if their initial or final destination is not far off. The Little Library is situated right at the front entrance and it is covered with french, book-related phrases. It is packed full and a delightful mess. Keremeye’us, the local nonfiction narrative, is again inside. Otherwise, there’s a tremendous variety: children’s books, bestsellers, self-help, and even an artist’s book that claims to tell your fortune if you stroke its cover pensively.

Most of my survey respondents visit more than one box regularly, which means it is not necessarily useful to compare the individual boxes as an indication of isolated reading patterns. As a whole, the contents of the many Little Free Library boxes show that genre fiction is predominantly passed along, but also that what is popular is not necessarily so easy to pinpoint. What seems clear from my survey results is that readers in the area generally hope to find mysteries, interesting non-fiction, or classics (though I’ve seen none of the latter).

The books scattered across Oliver, meanwhile, reveal surprisingly eclectic reading habits, reinforced by the random nature of the answers to the “best” material the survey respondents ever found inside a box. These include a Smashing Pumpkins box set, a book about house plants, Alan Bradley’s Flavia de Luce mystery series, Graham Greene’s May We Borrow Your Husband, and Thomas A. Kempis’ The Imitation of Christ. Many of the respondents indicated that they found new authors that they wouldn’t have been aware of otherwise. Because the books are free, people feel comfortable taking a chance on new or different materials. This definitely supports the idea that an influential aspect of what people read is the price tag attached to certain types of materials. This is not necessarily due to the high cost of an unfamiliar genre, but the fear that money might be wasted on something that has the possibility of not being enjoyed because you are trying it for the first time. All of the OLFL users also indicated in the survey that they regularly use the EPL library system as well. So it attracts the type of person who borrows rather than purchases their books, perhaps someone who is more interested in reading than collecting books. Transitory print keepers. Consequently, libraries and projects like this can help redefine the popular.

Multiple people said that they like the idea of the program as a way to recycle, to pass along print in a less impactful way. Print that is recycled through the project is predominantly in paperback format and generally looks well-read already; very few of the books look unopened. People also seem to like the surprise that awaits them each time they open the box. As one person noted, “I like the serendipity involved.” Last, they like the idea of contact between two readers, the chance to meet someone else who likes to read or turn someone onto a great new book.

Three of the respondents say they read at least 50 books a year and the other two average around twenty. To hit this number, only one of the five respondents uses an electronic device for reading. If this is any indication of the rest of the Little Library users, then the boxes are indeed a great place for someone hoping to find a like-minded print-reading community.

Last Updated: Nov 1, 2016