But if we are only about helping readers find the next book that is just like the one they finished, it is unlikely we would suggest a Louis L’Amour title to a John Grisham fan. We would be afraid that we are pushing the reader out of the legal thriller comfort zone. However, if what the reader really wants is a book that features a lone hero struggling against a monolithic evil, then L’Amour might be a great selection. It does not really require a readers’ advisor to point a reader to the mystery or Western section of the library. It does require a readers’ advisor to make those connections between titles and across categories. The readers’ advisor does not know best but can make connections that the reader had not thought of. If we do not assume some skill or authority in what we do, why should anyone come to us for assistance?
Helen Haines wrote:
Librarianship ought to mean personal fellowship with literature–catholicity, tolerance, receptivity toward the new, familiarity with those older tideways from which fresh currents rise, diverge, and flow endlessly through time; and always zest in an infinite adventure of exploration and discovery.12
If these are hallmarks of readers’ advisors, we should not be afraid to work with our readers to explore those tideways with which they may not be as familiar. To avoid doing so out of fear that we are dragging readers to places they do not want to go seems to be a grave mistake for the profession.–Barry Trott
Genre Separation: An Invaluable RA Tool
When you look at a public library fiction collection, what do you see? As a librarian, you probably see neat rows of titles, all arranged alphabetically by author with the spines even with the front of the shelf. Our need for order and easy access is satisfied by having all fiction together, without separate genre collections. But when patrons look at a library fiction collection, they may see the same neat rows of titles as impenetrable. To browsers without a specific book in mind, those orderly rows have as much appeal as brick walls.
The Book Cart Effect
Library browsers are desperate to avoid those brick walls; they commonly gravitate toward any smaller chunk of the collection they can find. Many of them never venture past the new book section, because they can browse the whole section in a short time. Others swarm around carts of recently returned books because someone else thought they were good enough to check out. Librarians weeding books that haven’t been checked out in years may even find that the act of just putting them on a cart makes them more desirable. It is daunting to browse a large collection of interfiled fiction; where do you start? Patrons will always prefer to browse a smaller, more manageable set of books rather than wandering the aisles aimlessly and pulling out random books. They really just want to find an easier way into the collection.
Construct Entry Points
Because of this, our goal as librarians should be to construct as many entry points into the collection as possible. Traditional RA service provides one entry point in which we talk to patrons directly, recommend authors and titles, and show them connections between books that they may not have considered. There is no substitute for offering this service to our patrons; it graciously ushers them through the front door of the collection. However, other indirect methods of RA service allow patrons to explore on their own, entering through the familiar creaky screen door in the back and choosing their own intriguing passageways into the collection. We encourage this exploration by providing catalog records with numerous fiction subject headings matching the terms that readers most commonly use. We provide paper and online book displays and booklists in areas where patrons are most likely to discover them along the way. We display some books face out to allow for serendipitous discovery. Most of us would agree that these are necessary tools in an ideal fiction collection. If we do these, it’s also logical for us to do everything we can to make it easier for genre readers to browse. If at all possible, libraries should devote time and space to providing genre sections for the genres most in demand in the community.
Save the Time of the Reader or Save the Time of the Library?
One argument against providing separate genre sections is that authors who write in various genres will be split among several collections. For instance, Kate Wilhelm’s books will probably be in the science fiction, mystery, and general fiction sections. However, fans of a particular author will either already be aware that (1) an author writes in different genres, or (2) they can easily use the catalog to locate all of the author’s titles. They may already be accustomed to looking in different places if the library has separate paperback and hardcover sections. On the other hand, genre browsers in an interfiled fiction collection are left to scan the shelves for genre stickers. This is much more time consuming than it is to locate one author in various genre collections.
Another argument against genre sections is that it is time consuming for the library to determine which titles should go in which genre section and that, in many cases, a book could go in more than one section. It’s true that the choices are not easy to make, and wrong decisions may happen at times. However, genre readers are looking for guidance from us. They expect us to make those kinds of judgments even if it is an imperfect science. Our expertise as readers’ advisors should naturally extend to decisions made about genre definitions, which should be drawn from the average genre reader’s expectation of what will be included in the section. Whose time should we be saving? S. R. Ranganathan asked us to “save the time of the reader.”13 It really boils down to this: we separate genre collections mainly for the convenience of the patrons, while we interfile fiction mainly for the convenience of the library.
Preserve Independence
We do not like to think of our patrons going it alone without direct contact with us, but the fact is that we live in a society that values independence. You probably have many patrons who happily use your library without ever asking for RA or reference assistance. We have all had experiences in stores where salespeople are annoyingly ingratiating, even pushy. Sometimes our patrons just want to browse in peace. We grant that independence to genre readers when we respect them enough to give them their own areas for easy browsing. Then, if they decide to venture outside of their preferred genre, they can do it on their own terms and timetable. Patrons whose reading preferences lean toward general fiction or literary fiction will also appreciate having their own section to browse. This is not lit-fic snobbery, but a realistic acknowledgement of different reading tastes. In either case, we need to make it as easy as possible for patrons to remain independent if they prefer it but also as comfortable as possible to receive assistance when necessary.
Comparing a Library and a Bookstore
Library users tend to be familiar with the layout of bookstores, so it is valuable to take a look at how bookstores address this issue. I decided to investigate a public library and a bookstore that I had never visited before. I tried to imagine how a typical reader would react to each location. I went in with the idea that I would look for typical fiction genres, including mystery, science fiction, romance, Western, and fantasy. In addition, I would check to see if any other fiction was in its own section. And for comparison, I would check to see how the library and bookstore treat two nonfiction “genres”–true crime and travelogues.
The Library
A new 15,000-square-foot branch in a suburban setting, this library has separate genre sections for romance, mystery, science fiction, and Westerns. Each book is labeled on the spine with a genre sticker that simply states the unabbreviated name of the genre. There are no pictures on the stickers, such as a skull for mysteries or a heart for romance; I found this refreshingly simple and clear. The genres are filed separately in both the new and regular book sections. The regular book section includes small genre signs on the shelf ends. This system of labeling the books and the sides of the shelves is very clean looking, without a lot of clutter. However, it is harder to tell from a distance where to find the genre sections. This library does use some hanging signs, but the genre collection is not labeled in this way. There is also a small space for book displays.
What about nonfiction genres? True-crime and travelogues are easy for librarians to find by browsing in the appropriate Dewey numbers. But for patrons who aren’t familiar with library classification, these are much harder to locate than in a bookstore. There are no signs for the genres, and searching the catalog gives mixed results. Searching for the keywords “true crime” brings up titles not through a subject heading, but by publisher series titles that have “true crime” in them. More results can be had by searching for “murder” and “case studies,” but not many patrons would think to search this way. Someone who is unfamiliar with the Dewey Decimal System would either need to know some titles and authors or ask a librarian for help. For those who are reluctant to ask for help, this may keep them from finding this section.
Travelogues, also called “travel writing” or “travel narratives,” do not fare much better. Searching the catalog by keyword for “travelogues” only returns twenty-five items. “Travel writing” brings up 295 matches, but is still not a complete list and is mixed with titles on unrelated topics. “Travel narratives” brings up 117 matches. Again, a patron unfamiliar with the section will either need to know titles and authors or ask for help.
My overall impression of the library is that it is very well organized and not cluttered. Libraries excel in offering standardized classification so that regular library users easily find their way around, even if they visit a different library. However, compared to a bookstore, it is more difficult to go in without a specific type of book in mind and still browse effectively. I spent the most time browsing the new book section, because it was a manageable size to look at. I also spent time browsing in the science fiction section. My entry points for the other parts of the collection required using the catalog, asking a librarian, or looking for a specific author.
The Bookstore
This 15,667-square-foot independent bookstore is located in a suburban area minutes away from a major university. It also sells gift items and shares space with a café. As an independent bookstore, its selection and sections appear to be tailored to community interests. There is a general fiction section, along with genre sections for science fiction and fantasy, mystery and thriller, horror, and classics. These are labeled with small stickers on the front of each shelf that were not immediately obvious, but once I noticed them, I easily found the other genres. There were separate paperback and hardcover sections for each genre, which could be confusing to a customer. Surprisingly, I did not see any romance or Western sections, but perhaps there is less interest in the community for those genres.
I also looked for the same nonfiction genres I sought out in the library. Travelogues were in the travel section, but were given their own spot labeled “travel literature.” Some books were displayed face out, though all were kept alphabetical by author’s last name. It seemed an ideal arrangement for fans of travel writing. True crime was harder to find; I had to ask for help in locating it. Inexplicably, it was within another section called popular culture. There may not be much of a demand for true crime, as there were only two shelves of the books.
My overall impression was that no space is wasted in creating inviting displays to draw in customers and entice them to buy. Bookstores are very browser-friendly, and a customer can go there with no specific titles or authors in mind and still find interesting possibilities. However, the signs, displays, and nonstandard shelving sizes can create visual cacophony and sensory overload.
What a Bookstore Can Teach a Library about Genres
Generally, bookstores are much easier to browse than libraries. This is because booksellers make it their business to know what readers want and which genres will be more easily found as separate sections. They also know that not everyone is shopping for a specific item, so stores are full of special displays. The independent bookstore I visited had displays of books for discussions, staff favorites, Book Sense bestsellers, and many others. Displayed books often had inserts with staff comments. Of course, the dark side of this is that in large-chain bookstores, publishers pay top dollar for a spot in a display.14 Libraries don’t have profit pressure, but we should still strive to make our collections more intriguing, more browser-friendly, and more enticing by borrowing techniques from bookstores. Besides the typical fiction genres, we could even go so far as to pull out separate nonfiction genre sections.