Why the oblique title?
I had nearly given up hope that I would meet a guy whom I would love and who would love me. I had known good relationships and bad relationships, but was in the midst of a long period of being alone and was despairing. My optimistic practical-minded friend D. suggested we engage in the same list-making activity that she had used that led her to her long-term love, B. It took more than an hour and two large cups of hot chocolate at City Bakery to answer and record responses to her meticulous questions about what sort of person I wanted my love to be. Topics ranged from the superficial, “How tall should he be?” to the esoteric, “What zodiac signs would be good?” to the unfathomable, “How spiritual is he?” The idea was that the more specific I was about what I wanted, the more likely I would find him. When we finished I asked her what we did with the list: Was there some special receptacle? Some weird ritual? Bury it? Burn it? She looked puzzled. “You know, I have no idea. I threw mine out.”
After deep thought, I found myself in the third floor reading room of the main branch of the New York City Public Library looking for a rare non-circulating book by Dodie Smith. I had read Smith’s I Capture the Castle and loved it, and for no clear reason I chose her to be the guardian of my romantic wishes. As I waited for the page to bring me The Girl from the Candle-lit Bath, I realized that whoever requested the book next would find my list. What if he or she laughed at it? I reconsidered. It had seemed a perfect idea—now what?
The walls of the reading room are lined with encyclopedias, dictionaries, almanacs, and other big heavy reference books. Shelves are dedicated to volume after volume of The Encyclopedia of British Writers. The books looked untouched. I took down S, found Dodie Smith, slipped the list in, returned the book, glanced back at the reading room, and left. I haven’t been back, but a couple years later I fell in love with Dennis, who bears little resemblance to the characteristics described in the list.
Great story, Jen, but what does it have to do with the blog?
I chose the reading room and a beloved writer to provide a safe house for my hopes. What better place to leave a little bit of myself than a house of books and writers? And though the Web doesn’t provide ceiling murals or long wooden tables, it is a place where a reader or two may stumble across my musings about books and reading.
I for one think it worked!
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