Thursday, March 01, 2007

Whore.

A young woman came to the ref desk tonight looking for this novel. It is entitled merely Whore. We have it, oh, I know we have it. We don't have all of Edith Wharton's novels, but we have Whore. The library system does not own the entirety of Kurt Vonnegut's oeuvre, but we have Whore.

Ok that makes me sound like a big priss. "Oeuvre," I don't even know how to pronounce that. And the system I work for is proud to be very inclusive, and to carry recreational reading for everyone. We have every volume of Sin City, for example. We have Dil Aashna Hai. We have Riding Dirty on I-95, and I tell you I am PROUD to recommend Riding Dirty on I-95 to my patrons who have read Thugs Ain't No Fun At All and are looking for something new. But shit, even we reject certain titles. Sheisty. Still Sheisty.

I couldn't find Whore on the shelf, so I checked the return room. "Anybody seen Whore?" I hollered out as I entered. "We have a book called Whore, and I want it! Whore. That's it, that's the title."

I found the book and delivered it to the young woman. The cover is just breathtaking, don't you think? I really debated adding it to this post.

But then I was curious, so I looked up the book and the author online.

Annnd.... I kind of have to take it all back. The author is in JAIL. For MURDER. She doesn't get out 'til 2011 at the minimum. I read the bio posted by her publisher. Her mother was 15 when she was born, her father left before she arrived, and she was on her own at 12. Before too long she killed someone and went to jail, then she was sexually abused by prison guard(s) and spoke up about it, then she wrote a goddamn novel and got it published and it's In. My. Library!

I'm going to make everyone read this fucking book.