A Library of Surprises
from my email newsletter | issue no. 26 | July 14 2026
Wherein We Make Things Way Too Complicated…
We live in a very flashy, here’s-my-hot-take culture — if you hadn’t noticed. Yes, I’m talking about big things such as politics. But it’s the little things too. The social media accounts for shelter publications are the absolute worst. Here’s what I mean:
“My Mexican Family Taught Me About ‘Sobremesa’ and You’ll Want it to Be Your New Summer Tradition.” Here’s the tradition: It’s simply not getting up from the table immediately after a meal and lingering for a bit. Commenters on this post were very quick to point out that a) it’s very common in Latin American countries besides Mexico, which leads to b) this is a very common thing in much of the world. But here goes Apartment Therapy wanting to make a very official “thing” out of something that often just happens naturally. Me to our dinner guests: “Sorry, you must stay put because Apartment Therapy told me so. Let’s commence the sobremesa STARTING NOW.”
This is also from Apartment Therapy and this "practice" is alternatively (apparently) called the German art of lüften and just means opening your windows periodically to air out your home.
Similarly, House Beautiful would like to provide readers with “The Tasteful Guide to Bookshelf Styling.” It has very original tips such as “put your books spine out.” (I get that this is a reaction to some weird micro-trend that came about because furniture catalogs often style books spine-in in order to avoid copyright issues, but “spines out” is just normal?!)
When we try too hard to make grand meaning out of very normal things, we end up making straightforward things extremely convoluted.
Like — for instance — libraries. Am I going from talking about what colors you should paint your house based on your Enneagram type (sigh, real headline) to talking about libraries? YES.
Let's Hear it For Libraries (for just this ONE reason right now)
I’ve written a lot about libraries over the years. For a local newspaper, I once penned a column that served as a love letter of sorts to all the libraries I’ve loved (Library Lovers Month is February — the month of luvvvvv — and I actually sent it to a friend to read before I submitted it in the event that it sounded too, um, lovestruck); I used to post with some frequency about prison libraries for some reason (for the record, I have actually toured the oldest women’s prison in the US, and although I do not recall seeing a library set-up, I’m absolutely positive there is one!); in a previous era, I was a communications consultant to a library foundation. I get Google Alerts for “library” and have noticed a palpable shift in the types of headlines that land in my inbox.
I also use the public library a ton. I’m in one a few times a month either picking up books that I’ve reserved (and returning the overdue ones) or staking out a table with my laptop for an hour or two when I need a change of scenery. I partnered with 20+ libraries outside of Boston to bring MetroWest Readers Fest to life. I’m familiar with the various — and sometimes unexpected — ways that libraries serve the community. Incomplete list: passport renewal (although I think our government has done away with that service?), computing and printing (I took one of my children’s x-ray scans to the library several years ago because they were only provided on CD-ROM and we didn’t have a machine at home that supported that), children’s activities, NARCAN administration (yup, librarians can also serve as de facto social/health workers), tax forms, etcetcetc.
Libraries are amazing!
But something I think about a lot is how sometimes the primary commodity of a library gets lost in the weeds. That commodity, btw, is FREE BOOKS. Books, books, books for F-R-E-E. So many that you can’t even wrap your head around the number! You can “order” them online just as you would put something in your Amazon cart (you do have to go pick them up except for when a community has a Bookmobile or other service), you can literally just drop them in a chute — often from your car — when you’re done or if you don’t like them. Libraries have robust digital resources, so if you’re an e-reader you’re definitely not left in the dust. And most library systems have done away with late fees so the pressure is off.
We had to say goodbye to the sweetest dog ever last week. (Big sobs.) Here's Liffey posed in front of what will soon be the new Main Branch of the Charlotte Mecklenburg Public Library. Btw, she was an extremely well-read dog, if I do say so.
The reason I'm writing about all these FREE BOOKS is that if you haven’t noticed, we have a bit of a reading crisis on our hands. And I don’t mean like, “oh, my kid prefers video games and I have to force him to do summer reading.” That’s a tale as old as time!
What I mean is that the tendency for adults to reach for a book to read for pleasure is diminishing rapidly. The Atlantic went as far as placing this screamy headline with what is a really fantastic piece (and one that spoke to my MA in Communications and Media Studies heart): THE END OF READING IS HERE.
Sign outside of Goodnow Library (Sudbury, MA) in 2021.
It's Not As If We Don't Like to Talk About Books...
Now, I don’t want to go as far as saying that reading books isn’t part of our zeitgeist. And maybe this is actually part of the problem. Despite this decline in reading rates, we are inundated with information about books nonstop. Books are a lightning rod when it comes to people’s sense of morality. Fashion houses are incorporating books into their ad campaigns. The army of celebrity book peddlers has gotten rather voluminous. (I will always and forever claim that the best celeb book club that ever existed was the one that former Indianapolis Colts QB Andrew Luck ran from 2016-2020. This was before all the morning news programs and Reese Witherspoon started their “clubs.” This dude selecting monthly picks for both adults and kids just because he likes reading was so wholesome, as Gen Z would say.)
This image is from this post, where I was kind of aggravated by GMA's book club.
Make America Read Again
A couple of months ago, the NYT published a guest essay by Brian Bannon, Chief Librarian at the New York Public Library, titled “Make America Read Again.” Despite the news of our country’s declining “book reading” rates (I don’t want to say literacy rates because that indicates being able to decode and understand text…although that statistic is dropping too), the NYPL has seen borrowing rates up 27 percent since 2010. Woohoo! But we’re not remotely out of the woods, and here’s Bannon’s explanation for the crux of the problem:
“But teaching people to read and building a world where they can do so are different problems. Throwing our phones in the lake can’t bring about that world, but designing the conditions for reading will.”
Ding, ding, ding…exactly. Here’s my take on how we (you!) can help create a different culture — a world where people read:
It just takes one thing. The “thing” I’m referring to is a “book.” And libraries have them in abundance. If you’re thinking, “Well, Amy, I know this. And by the way, you are a total Pollyanna,” keep reading.
Everything is so fraught with meaning these days. (I get to say "these days" now that I'm 50.) People see a meme about anything book-related and can’t wait to share it. We’ve conflated book-banning (to be clear, I’m not for it!) and being anti-Amazon and products like “reading socks” (they are just those fuzzy slipper socks btw) or “reading journals” and even the names of bookstores like Books Are Magic into one amalgamated say-nothing idea. And although I do love the idea of a Library of Things — that is, the movement of public libraries (including the one in my former Massachusetts town) to lend things like power washers or camping equipment — I’d love to see fewer news articles like this one and more write-ups like Bannon’s that tout the fact that libraries have, um, books. I hate to say it, but book-related discourse is often no better than AI Slop. “Books are Cool and Cozy (or Magic, as may be the case)” is not a sentiment that will save the day.
My friend sent me this photo of a Seattle clothing store with the tagline "Clothing for people who like to read." I actually think this is very cool BUT it does sort of try to telegraph something about "people who like to read" which according to my rules makes "reading" feel like some sort of convoluted identity instead of just something one does because they are human.
Let’s Be Open to Surprise
If we're really trying to promote reading, how about we just keep it simple?
We’ve pushed so much meaning-making on to books that we’ve lost something incredibly straightforward. Do I mean this object called “book”? Yes. But here’s something else simple that we’ve lost: the element of surprise. We think we know the plot (so to speak) so we spend far too much time trying to keep up with the bestsellers, frantically reading books to educate ourselves about the topic du jour, having an opinion about this or that author, filling out checklists about what books we’ve read. To be sure, I’m guilty of it all. (For example, here’s an old newsletter I wrote about that time the novel American Dirt turned the literary world upside down.) So the message of this newsletter is a reminder to myself as well: When selecting a book, be open to surprise because it's really not that difficult.
“Surprise” is one of my favorite things to think and write about. In this short post about Summerwater by Sarah Moss, I describe how on occasion I’ve kept a “surprise journal” (instead of the ubiquitous “gratitude journal”). I thought “surprise” was actually one of the biggest themes of The Correspondent by Virginia Evans. (Which itself was a big surprise hit and one topic of this newsletter.) And in Go Gentle, the latest by the always charming and always funny Maria Semple, protagonist Adora Hazzard says this: “Every morning, I open my eyes and say to the universe, ‘Surprise me.’”
Being poised for surprise is different than tricking your brain into imagining that something good might happen, which is the advice we are quick to give when someone is catastrophizing. I think the goal is to let go of any expectations. I’m not a student of Buddhism, but I think allowing ourselves to be surprised is perhaps akin to “emptying one’s mind.” Instead of trying to deduce how everything’s going to go — either positively or negatively with some sort of mental balance sheet — maybe a big ol’ shrug while whispering “idk” (that’s “I don’t know” for those of you who haven’t waded into full-on text speak) can teach us something. I mean this for books, but yeah, I also mean this for life.
Here’s how this played out for me with some library books recently:
I decided to check out Lost Lambs by Madeline Cash because it was a trendy book. (Ugh, rein yourself in, Amy…) I started reading it and assumed it was going to be too wannabe quirky, but — SURPRISE — I loved it.
I decided to check out Light Years by James Salter since Salter's work has apparently been experiencing a bit of a rebirth. For the first bit, I felt it was leaning toward try-hard artistic whisper, but — SURPRISE — I loved it, and the sparseness was gorgeous.
I decided to check out Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke, the book that everyone’s talking about because of its interesting conceit: Tradwife influencer finds herself in the 1800s. I love books about how we mediate reality through technology, but it’s gotta be in a “thinky” way (to borrow the term that reviewers often bestow on phenom Ben Lerner’s books) and — SURPRISE — I hated this book with a fiery passion. (But I really was primed to at least enjoy it...empty mind, no expectations and all that.)
Do you notice how with all of these books I “checked them out”? (Not like in a look at them slyly over my sunglasses kind of way.) They’re all from my public library, which is often how I get the books I read. I usually go in with barely an inkling of what a book’s about — usually it’s a passing reference I’ve read or sometimes it’s even a cover that catches my eye. I like to be surprised.
Libraries = Books
Libraries exist because of books. That’s the main thing! If you’re looking to amp up your reading life, try not to pay too much attention to what every book club is reading, libraries hosting game night for teens (totally awesome, btw, but we’re focused on books right now), and whatever else kind of equivalent headline you’d see in Domino. (You don’t need to pick a book nor a furniture style according to your birth month.) Just go into a library, wander the stacks for 10 minutes, and allow yourself to be surprised. Even if the surprise is a bad one like Yesteryear, you just return it. No biggie.
I loved this comment I got from one of my dearest friends in response to this post about some libraries’ inability to keep up with ordering enough “hot” books: “To that end, I went hunting for paperbacks in the library to take on my trip (can’t find my outdated e-reader). Picked up The Unbearable Lightness of Being from 1984. Definitely not the 'it' book of 2026, but worthy of discussion nonetheless. Interested?” (Of course I'm interested, and I just reserved a copy for myself.)
There you go: Library surprise in action. No need to overthink. Your book does not need to match your house style and it does not need to be popular ... you just need to pick one and see where it takes you.
This old image of an Australian library is titled "library confusion" for some reason. Libraries can be surprising, but they don't need to be confusing ... ask a friendly librarian to help you!
Latest Reads
Here's a quick roundup of books I've read since the last newsletter. Feel free to screenshot or save the graphic to keep handy next time you're looking for something to read. You can click through the links below to read more.
Light Years by James Salter
American Han by Lisa Lee
Lake Effect by Cynthia D'Aprix Sweeney
Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke
Transcription by Ben Lerner
On the Calculation of Volume (I-III) by Solvej Balle
On the Calculation of Volume (IV) by Solvej Balle
Go Gentle by Maria Semple
Flesh by David Szalay
Foreign Affairs by Alison Lurie
The Things We Never Say by Elizabeth Strout
Kin by Tayari Jones
Read This!
(i.e. some quick links)
< John Basinger Obituary. Maybe it's weird to put an obituary here? But I saw this write-up in the newspaper about an actor and professor who died at age 92. Why was he notable? He is believed to be the only person ever to have memorized all 12 books of "Paradise Lost," the epic poem by John Milton. Fascinating!
< "Ann Patchett Accepts the PEN/Audible Literary Service Award" Ok this is something to watch, not read. But is there any wonder why Ann Patchett is so beloved? I can't WAIT to read Whistler. (This gala took place in the American Museum of Natural History in NYC, hence the whale reference...)
< "Colson Whitehead's Big Score." Whitehead's books are all so different, which makes this New Yorker profile about him super interesting.
Am Reading
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