Welcome to iron inklings. I am a librarian by trade and I have worked in several different types of libraries. I was a public librarian for many years and most recently a school librarian. I am currently taking a leave of absence to homeschool my son. We are hoping this is a temporary situation, but you never know how these things are going to go. I’m keeping this blog so that I don’t lose touch with the book world that has been so much a part of my life.
I am a recovered book snob and I read across a number of genres. My favorites are literary fiction, historical fiction, fantasy, graphic novels and poetry. I love to add a little non-fiction in there, but I am dreadfully slow at reading it. My son and I are both audiobook addicts. I listen to audiobooks or bookriot podcasts whenever I have any chores to do. I love children’s and YA books. As a school librarian I hardly ever had a chance to read adult books and I still read a fair share of middle grade and YA titles. I also adore picture book non-fiction.
I have been trained in reader’s advisory and I love to recommend books if I can come up with a good one. I enjoy being the auntie who picks out great books for birthdays and holidays. I also got a chance to figure out who I am as a reader. I have discovered that I am not at all interested in reading about someone who is like me. I read to learn and to experience new worlds.
Besides reading, gardening is my second hobby. After my first taxonomy project in high school, I fell in love with anything that grows. Though my gardens will never grace the cover of a magazine, they are wonders and grand experiments to me. I love obsessing over seed catalogs. Given time and money. I would love to travel more. Instead I read books about other countries. Sometimes they make me want to visit a place, sometimes they make me want to change the world.
Thanks for stopping by. I’d love to hear from you. You can leave me a comment or email me at ironinklings at yahoo dot com
The title of my blog comes from a poem by Eavan Boland called “Outside History.” It begins:
There are outsiders always. These stars – these iron inklings of an Irish January, whose light happened thousands of years before our pain did: They are, they have always been outside history.