A Writing Tip by Autumn Konopka
GET THEE TO A LIBRARY

I still remember the smell of my childhood library: a mix of old paper, compulsory quiet, and possibility. I was a kid who loved to read—but I also had undiagnosed ADHD and very little structure. So, the library was a safe place where I could explore the boundless ideas bouncing around in my brain, with some guardrails. I had to move slowly and search, pay attention to spines, and read descriptions. Aside from that, I was free to choose based solely on whatever fascinated me at any given moment. Or, if I needed to research something for school, the library would certainly provide whatever I needed. 

The library is still the same magical place it was when I was young. Unfortunately, in a world with Google, Amazon Prime, and a Starbucks on every other corner, it can be easy to overlook. We might forget that libraries are great places to get work done; find new, interesting community programs; and, of course, access an immense selection of books and media—for free. In the 80’s and 90’s, when I was writing a grade school report on lupus or doing a science fair project about hard water, the library was the only game in town. If I didn’t go to the library, I didn’t do the assignment. Not so anymore—and not for a long time. When I began teaching first-year college students in 2011, the school library was still an active site for student research. But over the years, especially in the wake of the pandemic, the library began to feel almost obsolete. Budget cuts meant laying off librarians and selling off rarely used library assets. Students did all of their research online; it was rare that I saw a bibliography citing an actual printed source. Then came AI, and some students stopped even doing their own research; they’d ask ChatGPT to find sources for them. 

To be clear: I do my share of Googling. Electronic resources are often more current than printed counterparts and, through links, can provide immediate connections to related material, promoting deeper and more expansive research. Likewise, e-books are affordable, searchable, easy to carry, and better for the environment (if you’re a big reader, at least). Lots of pros there. 

Libraries, on the other, have much to offer that the internet cannot. Rich as it is, the internet’s most trustworthy resources are often blockaded by paywalls; and there remains an abundance of materials that are still only available in print. Many libraries have retained older or out-of-print books and periodicals (or they know how to get them). In many cases, they also have subscriptions to some of those paywalled online publications, which you can access on library computers, for free.

This is all very useful, of course, but not necessarily magical. The magic of libraries isn’t their utility: it’s serendipity.

With stacks on stacks on stacks of books (and magazines, and films, and other assorted resources), libraries hold secrets and surprises you might never come upon if you weren’t physically there, wandering around, in search of something else. Maybe you’ve gone to check out the latest bestseller; as you wander the aisles, you spot a book from high school that you absolutely hated. Now, you’re remembering your high school English teacher—how quirky he was, how his favorite movie was 1776, how he spent his summers as a short-order cook at the Jersey shore. The next thing you know, you’ve unearthed fodder for a new memoir or details for a stagnant character. 

Maybe it’s simpler: You’re searching for a vegan cookbook, when an intriguing cover catches your eye. It’s a novel you’ve never heard of, by an author who hasn’t published anything new since 1983, but it turns out to be the exact book you needed at this moment in your life. You just didn’t know it. 

Or maybe it’s even simpler than that: You’ve been researching on the internet, but you’re drowning in AI slop and websites of questionable authorship and authority. There is something comforting about discreet, written sources, knowing they were vetted—not only by editors and publishers, but by educated and experienced librarians. 

Speaking of which… Popular culture would have us believe that librarians exist solely to drain the life force from children by keeping them silent and still, but I would argue that librarians are the most well-disguised magicians on earth. Not only can they name the book that’s on the tip of your tongue—and several others by the same author; they can also unlock new research approaches, unearth obscure resources, and put together elaborate, inclusive community events. And, somehow, they never complain that your library card is attached to a two-pound, jangling key ring.

I would never suggest a return to the bygone era of the printed Encyclopaedia Britannica and its thirty-plus bug-killing/bicep-building volumes (…and yearly addenda). Instead, I’d encourage a “hybrid” approach to reading, writing, and research. 

The next time you’ve got a few hours for spacious writing, head to the library. Find a quiet, comfortable corner, get your laptop out, put your headphones on, and write. If you get blocked or stumped, take a break. Stroll the aisles or stop by a community bulletin board. Let your mind wander and muse; see if inspiration comes. Or go looking for it. If you’re working on a poem with floral metaphors, take yourself to the stacks with gardening books or botanical art. If you’ve got a character who works as a mechanic, go look at the automotive books. Sit down and write some more. Let yourself volley between internet research and physical books. Seek broadly, then dig deeper. Above all, open yourself to the sublime possibility of happy accidents and unintended discoveries—a possibility that can only exist in a place as vast and inclusive as the library.

Autumn Konopka is a Senior Editor for Cleaver, responsible for Book Reviews, Author Interviews, Writing Tips, and Newsletters. A former poet laureate of Montgomery County, PA (2016), Autumn’s poetry chapbook a chain of paperdolls was published in 2014, and her award-winning, debut novel Pheidippides Didn’t Die was released in 2023. Autumn is a Philadelphia native and loves celebrating the city’s unique impact on the literary landscape.

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