Goblin Mobility
Sunday, March 1st, 2009I just added the WPtouch plugin, so if anyone with an iPhone or Android phone could look at this blog and let me know if anything needs to be tweaked, I would greatly appreciate it.
I just added the WPtouch plugin, so if anyone with an iPhone or Android phone could look at this blog and let me know if anything needs to be tweaked, I would greatly appreciate it.
Dorothea Salo explains once more why she doesn’t have comments on her blog. I think she makes an excellent point: it’s her web space, she can do with it as she pleases, and she doesn’t want comments on her blog. I can’t think of a reasonable argument against that and I think it’s silly to expect her to treat her website any other way.
It got me thinking about why I do have comments on my blog. And the cold, hard truth of it is: I like getting attention, and when people leave comments here, my self-esteem is raised a little more. Yes, I like having conversations, and comments facilitate that. But mostly, I’m insecure and I like the attention. So, there you go.
Beth Tribe tagged me, so I guess I’m It. How did I get into blogging? Well, it all started back in 2001…
I was in Milwaukee, attending GenCon (this was before it moved to Indianapolis, obviously). I was hanging out with some friends in their hotel room, the conversation flowing like some kind of fast-flowing liquid, when it occurred to me that I was the only person in the room without a blog. My friends immediately began encouraging me to start a blog of my own. “It’s so easy!” they said. “We’ll even help you get one started.” (In retrospect, it was very much like an after-school special from the ’70s, only with blogging replacing cigarettes or LSD.) When I got home from the convention, I bought a book on learning HTML, registered the domain “www.goblin-cartoons.com” (the name vaguely had to do with how I saw my prose and poetry writing at the time, and I thought it was catchy), and began blogging. In library school, I stumbled upon Jenny Levine’s blog, which led to discovering other library-themed blogs. After I graduated and got my first post-degree library job, I decided I wanted to join the ranks of library bloggers, so I changed my blog name to “the goblin in the library.” And then, of course, I recently changed the blog back to the more general “goblin cartoons.” And that, my friends, is the story of my blogging (so far).
I’m not going to tag anyone, but if you read this and haven’t written your own post about how you got into blogging, go ahead and share your story with us.
Today, I somehow found some energy and inspiration for a blog post. But rather than post it here, I’ve started a new blog on the LSW site: Humbug! The idea is for it to be a group blog, with other members and me posting to it. But even if no one else posts to it besides me, I’m thinking it could end up as my main library blog. I think this website will be changing into something else. I’m not sure yet, and my personal life is too wacky for me to make any really big plans, but…well, we’ll see.
Time for me to fess up: Meredith Farkas told the truth when she said she isn’t the Annoyed Librarian. She’s not. I am.
I know, I know, everyone assumes the Annoyed Librarian is a woman. What better way to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes than to blog as if I were female? Better than slapping on a pair of glasses and claiming I’m not Superman.
And sure, I’ve slagged off the Annoyed Librarian in public, claiming “she” is nothing more than an attention hound, cultivating a loyal following while also maintaining an identity of “rebel” and “victim of the mainstream biblioblogosphere.” I’ve also said I don’t think “she” is funny. Again, how better to throw everyone off the scent than to disparage my alter ego in public?
People have been claiming lately they know the true identity of the pseudonymous (not anonymous!) blogger called “the Annoyed Librarian,” but they keep naming the wrong people. My misdirection has worked too well. But I refuse to let other people get the credit for my work, and so I’m outing myself.
I am the Annoyed Librarian!

My coworker Erin has started a new blog, schooling.us. If you’re interested in the intersection of schools, education, libraries, and technology, check it out.
I just took Meredith Farkas’ biblioblogger survery. Got yerself a little ol’ blog? Are you a library person? Then do what I did, and take the survey.
I finally have a copy of the March issue of American Libraries in my mitts and I can see the “Mattering in the Blogosphere” article for myself. Boy, do I share the space with some smart, articulate people! Strangely, the article doesn’t provide URLs for the blogs, so here they are:
Just as Kathleen, Jessamyn, Nicole and Rochelle have done, I’ll post all of my answers here, including the ones that got edited out. Here’s a thing, though: when I got the email with the questions, I had no idea how long the article would be or how long my answers should be. I was concerned that if I went on at length, my answers would get chopped, possibly making me sound like an idiot. So I kept my answers short, very short. Which is slightly misleading, because anyone who has spent time with me in person knows that I rarely answers questions like these without going on and on and on.
What does it take for a blog to have an impact on the biblioblogosphere?
I’m not sure how much of an impact my blog has, but the blogs that have an impact on me are all written with passion, honesty, a distinctive voice and a sense of humor.
What do the readers of your blog value about your posts (i.e., “voice” as an online columnist, value-added news coverage)?
I make people laugh, and I ask questions and tell stories that people find interesting.
How do you decide when to post inspiration, obligation to keep the blog fresh and readers engaged, or what?
I do feel somewhat driven to provide regular fresh content, but I try not to post unless I really have something to say. It just happens that I have a lot on my mind, so I end up posting pretty regularly.
How do you determine what the right length is for a given post?
I don’t have a formula. I end a post when it feels right to stop, which is usually when I’ve run out of things to say.
What has surprised you most about the process of blogging?
I’m constantly surprised at how easy and satisfying it is to write short rants, anecdotes and ponderings. It’s also surprising and satisfying when people respond to what I’ve written and encourage me to keep going.
What lessons can libraries learn from your experiences as an individual blogger?
Write as if you’re a person, not a business. Write about things you find exciting and funny and strange. Write with a distinctive voice. Don’t be afraid to raise difficult questions. Treat your readers as if they’re in on the joke and invite them to engage in conversations with you.
What’s missing from the LIS blogosphere that you’d like to see someone take on?
My student loan payments.
How will the blogs of today be regarded a decade from now? Should digital libraries collect them?
I’m wary of making predictions about the future, but as blogs are already being cited in academia, I think collecting them in digital libraries isn’t such a bad idea.
I let my ALA membership lapse a while ago, so I have no idea if the March issue of American Libraries is in people’s hands yet, but if it is, you may have seen that the cover story is on librarian bloggers–and I’m one of the bibliobloggers in the article. Back in January, I got an email request to answer some questions and be included in the article. I was incredibly surprised and flattered, but I had no idea which other bloggers would be in the article. Kathleen de la Pena McCook, also in the article, posted about it with a list of the bloggers interviewed and…Holy Macaroni! I’m in there with Jessamyn West, Sarah Houghton-Jan and Jenny Levine! They’re well-known, well-respected, well-connected library professionals and bloggers. Me? I’m just some two-bit wiseacre with a keyboard and a website. I feel like Marlin swimming with the turtles on the EAC. Not that Jessamyn, Sarah and Jenny are turtlish in any way, it’s just, well, next to them I feel sort of small and inexperienced. And orange.
At any rate, I’m very excited to be included in this article (although I don’t know how much of what I said was included, and if what I said makes me sound like a doofus) and this group (which also includes brilliant bloggers Rochelle Hartman and Nicole Engard, more awesome company for me). If the article has led you to my blog, welcome! Feel free to stick around for a while. Leave me a comment of two if’n you feel like it. Try the corned beef, it’s very good this week.
Inspired by David Lee King’s series of posts on “Inviting Participation,” I wrote a post for MPOW’s public blog in which I raised issues about our library and libraries in general, openly inviting people to respond. Being the hotspur that I am, I went ahead and published the post…and then thought, “Maybe I should’n'a done that.” I went to my supervisor and asked her to read it and give me feedback. “So far,” she said, “the blog has only had posts about library news and programs. This is really going in a new direction.” Her advice was to pull the piece and run it by the library director for approval. I moved the post back into draft form, then decided to run it by the entire Web Committee (which includes our director).
This turned out to be a Very Good Thing. A vigorous discussion started through emails and ended with a spirited (but at all times polite and respectful) Web Committee meeting. Some of the committee members and I argued that the point of having a blog is to invite discussion and participation. One of my coworkers said, “Look at the discussion we’ve been having here today. We should be having these discussions with our customers.” It was a great discussion, and it ended with the decision that I rewrite the post somewhat (and everyone on the committee gave me good feedback), then submit it for final approval. It’s now up on our blog. It will be interesting to see if anyone submits a comment. Heck, I’ll be happy just to know that patrons are reading what I wrote.