*Telephone ringing* Reference department, Miss Tyler.

Salutations!

One of the assignments for INFO 5000 Introduction to Information Professions in Fall 2022 tasked me with researching a professional specialization within the multifaceted world of librarianship. The assignment opened my eyes to the uniqueness of the LIS profession as a whole, from an association-level, and introduced me to a whole sub-section I honestly wasn’t aware even existed as a unique organization of like-minded professionals. I chose the Reference & User Services Association [RUSA] (2009), a division of ALA, that identifies itself as “a network to educate, empower, and inspire its members to advance the evolution of the profession and better serve users in a continuously changing information society” (para. 1); its members are primarily LIS professionals typically in “Reference Librarian” positions or equivalents. Among a plethora of things I learned about the association, I appreciated the fact that RUSA (2006) undertook in its bylaws the responsibility to “[stimulate and support] excellence in the delivery of … reference and information services, readers’ advisory, collections development, and resource sharing for all ages, in every type of library” (para. 2).

After completing this report, my ideas about possible career directions have changed slightly, yet this process has also reinforced existing ideas I held about my LIS career. So, short answer: yes and no, which might seem quite non-committal. Let me explain, though, with a flashback that has a movie tie-in.

Story time! Ever since I first watched it as a little girl annually around Christmas time with my mom, one of my favorite librarian films is Desk Set, which revolves around the reference department of a broadcasting company in New York City’s glitzy Rockefeller Center (Lang, 1957) run by four intelligent, funny, mature, sophisticated women with amazing wardrobes. In childhood, I considered them to be cinematic representations of “real librarians,” and this movie sparked a resultant keen interest in reference work before I could articulate the specifics. I merely liked how intelligent the women were, how they had whole passages of books memorized, and could answer any question posed to them with some research time, while totally loving the chic 1950s styles. I formed a naïve assumption that Bunny Watson and her staff were synonymous with all of librarianship that I considered “genuine,” which for a long time meant practically anything library-ish outside my limited experience in elementary school library media centers. Honestly, I didn’t consider myself a “genuine librarian” when I was teaching K-5 library lessons; there are days even now, when I still don’t deem that time “true librarianship,” due to the confines and stress I faced. Still, at times, unpacking that mental baggage.

Anyway…I’ve since grown up some in my views on librarianship… a bit; this MSLIS program, and particularly the professional specialization report project, has illuminated my understanding to realize Reference is simply one concentration among many; interestingly, the iconic film of my childhood was mentioned in one of my LIS textbooks as containing many examples of ready-reference service (Wong & Saunders, 2020, p. 14), which I took as rather a divine nod of approval that I am presently pursuing the proper educational path for myself, and I will likely someday specialize in the reference area of librarianship, at least for a portion of my future LIS career. Even prior to this specialization report, I had begun negotiating a shift in my department affiliation at my public library, wanting to increasingly work in Reference upstairs, compared to Children’s downstairs; as of today, my schedule will be updated to reflect training in Reference in early December 2022 before taking a Monday evening shift consistently, with the hope that more Reference shifts will open so I can formally swap out those for existing Children’s shifts in my schedule.

RLGing,

Sarah Hope

PS. One of my favorite parts of Desk Set is where librarian Sylvia Blair answers the telephone and has this one-sided conversation: “Reference department, Miss Blair. [Pause.] Oh, yes, we’ve looked that up for you, and there are certain poisons which leave no trace, but it’s network policy not to mention them on our programs” (Lang, 1957).  She is so polite yet firm on library policy that such information cannot be given out over the phone.

PPS. Ruthie Saylor, the newest member of the team, usually end the calls with “You’re welcome. Call us anytime” (Lang, 1957), which I find myself doing on the phone at the library!

References:

Lang, W. (Director). (1957). Desk set [Film]. Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp.

Reference & User Services Association. (2006, July 7). Our bylaws. https://www.ala.org/rusa/about/strategic-priorities/bylaws

Reference & User Services Association. (2019, August 14). About RUSA. https://www.ala.org/rusa/about

Wong, M. A. & Saunders, L. (2020). Reference and information services: An introduction. (6th ed.). Libraries Unlimited.

Ranganathan: India’s World Librarian

Salutations!

One of the assignments for INFO 5000 Introduction to Information Professions in Fall 2022 tasked me with researching an individual who was important in some way to the furtherance of librarianship. I initially wanted to research Henriette Arvam — she was nicknamed “the mother of MARC records,” and you can read here about her life and work on the LC blog around her death in 2006, reposing what The Washington Post published, likely as her obituary — yet I ended up choosing S. R. Ranganathan, named “India’s World Librarian.” Below is the TL;DR highlights of the essay I wrote.

S. R. Ranganathan was a self-made mathematics professor in India who became globally-renowned as “a library scientist par excellence” (Babu, 2011, p. 254); his vast contributions to the LIS theories and practices in our field included promoting library legislation in his home country, single-handedly developing the colon scheme of classification (Satyanarayana, 2015, p. 206), and penning numerous library science books and pamphlets, among which stand five pithy statements as the bedrock of librarianship (Mitchell, 2008, p. 2). In his seminal book, Ranganathan (1931) detailed exhaustively, through his inimitable linguistic style, his five laws of librarianship, namely: “Books are for use; Every reader should be served his or her book; Every book should be helped to find its reader; Save the time of the reader; A library is a growing organism” (pp. 336-337, 382). The book was so well-praised after its 1931 publication that one British contemporary openly confessed, “truthfully,” these laws “should be the guiding principles of librarians everywhere” (as cited in Sharma, 1979, p. 63).

The life and works of Ranganathan, as well as the research inspired by the Five Laws, were so interesting that my first draft of my paper was nine pages and needed significant editing and condensing to meet the seven-page maximum. Below are the top 4 things I found most interesting based on my research into a fascinating man; most are excerpts or abridgements of the text of my paper.  

  1. At a Korean seminar internationally commemorating the 80th anniversary of the five laws, Dr. B. Ramesh Babu (2011) referenced the work of a researcher showing the Five Laws have been loosely transferred out of the world of library science and adapted, in homage apparently, into such categories as railways as public utilities, public administration, jurisprudence, religion, and society (pp. 264-265).
  2. From the viewpoint of public librarianship, Holt (2010) spent a great deal of time ironically expounding upon the fourth law: saving the user’s time is “the most valuable gift that libraries could give to their constituents,” especially since time as a modern concept is “a precious commodity” (p. 75), and pointed out that the fourth law was written as a “service command, an imperative” (p. 66).
  3. As an academic librarian, a professor of library science, and arguably an enthusiastic library aficionado, S. R. Ranganathan lived, worked, and taught with “only one goal in mind: to improve libraries and to extend library service to the public” (Sharma, 1979, p. 58).
  4. Standing alongside many from 1931 onward, one reference librarian equated the timelessness of Ranganathan’s laws to the golden rule of mutual respect, enduring family traditions, the quintessential little black dress with sophisticated string of pearls (Rimland, 2007, p. 24). Neither the classic views and items of Rimland’s comparison, nor the five laws themselves, have lost their luster with the passing nine decades.

RLGing,

Sarah Hope

References

Babu, R. B. (2011). Relevance of five laws of library science in the contemporary library world. Journal of the Korean Society for Library and Information Science, 45(4), 253-269. Retrieved from http://journal.kci.go.kr/kslis/archive/articleView?artiId=ART001605574

Holt, G. (2010). Saving time: Ranganathan and the librarian as teacher. Public Library Quarterly, 29(1), 64–77. https://doi.org/10.1080/01616840903563024

Ranganathan, S. R. (1931). The five laws of library science [PDF]. Madras Library Association. https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uc1.$b99721 

Rimland, E. (2007). Ranganathan’s relevant rules. Reference & User Services Quarterly, 46(4), 24–26. Mitchell, W. B. (2008). Reflections on academic libraries in the 21st century. Journal of Access Services, 5(1–2), 1–9. https://doi.org/10.1080/15367960802197509

Sharma, R. N. (1979). S. R. Ranganathan: A personal tribute. The Journal of Library History (1974-1987), 14(1), 58–72.

Satyanarayana, R. (2015). Library profession and Dr. Ranganathan. Annals of Library & Information Studies, 62(4), 203–207. 

Musings on Intellectual Freedom in Libraries

“A truly great library contains something in it to offend everyone.” ~ Mary Jo Godwin

Salutations!

The above quotation is commonly attributed to Mary Jo Godwin, a former Wilson Library Bulletin editor, and the passage regardless of origin featured prominently in a discussion on intellectual freedom during my INFO 5000 Introduction to Information Professions in Fall 2022; during one week’s assignments, we were asked to describe any experiences we had with censorship, a task which really made me look at my own actions under a microscope.

During my last year of elementary teaching, one of our K-12 library department meetings focused on the reconsideration policy our district had in place since a highly conservative parents’ group had challenged a handful of books in our middle and high school collections due to explicit language (both anatomical vocabulary and profanity) and thematic elements involving… um… shall we say politely “teen physical relations?” The librarians at the schools influenced by this news were told by our department head (one of the high school librarians) to keep the items on the circulating shelves without alluding to the current issues some individuals and families were having to those specific titles. In their initial complaint, the group provided a completely copied and pasted document of all the “spicy” bits of the books with page number citations taken completely out of context, sometimes even a single sentence pulled into the compilation that had one mildly profane word. Per our district policies, the representative of the complaint was provided with a printed packet by our department head containing the board-approved reconsideration request form to be completed and returned, our district’s reconsideration and collection development policies, the ALA Bill of Rights, the Freedom to Read Statement, the Code of Ethics, which was never completed and submitted back to the library media specialist of the school where the complaint was originally filed. If it had, a committee would have been assembled of librarians, teachers, and administrators at the building and district levels to read the materials in question and decide whether they needed to be restricted in open access or removed from the collections. Interestingly, all of these documents my old distinct included were listed as essential to public library packets for patrons lodging formal complaints with library materials, displays, or programs in a recent presentation on library challenges at a recent all-staff development day at my present library, given only when requested by a patron from our director.

One of my other schools, by their traditionally-expected addition of Accelerated Reader information on each book via shelf-ready materials purchased from specific vendors, essentially demanded I engage in an ALA-frowned-upon labeling system, which was an instance of my school theoretically “[assuming] that the library [media center I was managing had] the institutional wisdom to decide what [was] appropriate or not appropriate for users to access; such decisions should [have been] placed in the [student users,] not the library” (Rubin & Rubin, 2020, p. 525). Rubin and Rubin cite ALA’s interpretation of the First Amendment to include specifically “ ‘organizing collections by reading management program level, ability, grade, or age level is another example of restricted access’ and fails to consider the reading abilities of many library users” (p. 518). I can’t remember the multiple times a child was denied a book I encouraged him or her to borrow by the classroom teacher because it was above or below the child’s current AR level! Those level/quiz information sticks on the covers and the color dots on the sides where the ban of my existence. I would book talk titles of interest to some kiddos only to be faced with them saying “but it’s not a blue dot” or “it’s not my level.”

Thus far in my 6+ years actively in school library media centers and my current employment public library, I have not been personally offended or made uncomfortable by specific materials or programming to the point of filing any formal complaints, as I feel I adequately exercise my ability to separate my professional responsibilities from my personal beliefs on potentially controversial topics. Admittedly though, I have requested my Children’s department supervisor move the majority of the Anne of Green Gables series by L. M. Montgomery, especially the fifth book Anne’s House of Dreams to the Teen collection upstairs, since the series grows up with Anne into her late adulthood and being the mother of 6 children, just like one would expect of the first installment being published in 1908 (L. M. Montgomery Online, 2022a) intended ultimately, I believe, for a readership that would age along with the young literary heroine until the last novel published in 1921, featuring Anne’s fifteen-year-old daughter, Rilla, in the eighth book (L. M. Montgomery Online, 2022b). In Anne’s House of Dreams, particularly, I am well-acquainted with the situation that is extremely sad and perplexing on many levels from at least two reads of the series, which I won’t divulge, lest I spoil the plot arch for Anne fans who haven’t got that far in the series. This did not come from a place of offense or wanting to restrict individuals’ access to one of my most beloved series; I was merely uncomfortable about a sensitive child or multi-age family reading together flying through the series enamored of fourteen-year-old Anne, as I was in early high school when I was first introduced to her, and being potentially (in worst case scenario) traumatized by what happens to Anne and her baby. Having never read the series, my supervisor, completely unaware of the potentially troubling plot intricacies after Anne married, agreed with me on their transfer, yet the copies were still listed as being in the Children’s department on our OPAC and have seemed to disappear from our shelves without a trace before reaching the Teen shelves upstairs when I last checked several months ago. I now see my request might actually, and unwittingly on my part, fall under the umbrella of a challenge with my expected outcome being the transference of the books to another department within the library (K. Chisum, personal communication, November 9, 2022), yet no one has corroborated my suspicion or taken me to task for the so-called incident.

RLGing,

Sarah Hope

References: L. M. Montgomery Online. (2022a, January 22). Anne of green gables. https://lmmonline.org/anne-of-green-gables/

L. M. Montgomery Online. (2022b, October 31). Rilla of ingleside. https://lmmonline.org/rilla-of-ingleside/

Rubin, R. E. & Rubin, R. G. (2020). Foundations of library and information science (5th ed.). ALA Neal-Schuman.

Why am I in LIS?

Salutations!

One of the discussion board prompts for my INFO 5000 Introduction to Information Professions in Fall 2022 asked the question: Why am I in LIS [library and information science]? The answer was massaged from some of what I wrote in my reader autobiography for another class, which has been linked in a previous post. Below is the “readers’ digest” version, if you will.

Out of all the possible occupations/vocations in all the world, I had to walk into library information science [LIS]. Yes, I totally turned that first sentence into a nod to Casablanca, one of my dad’s favorite classic films. As some might remember from reading my introductory post, I chose Clarion’s online MSLIS program because my first master’s program in library media education was not ALA-accredited. Having spent 6 years as an elementary library media specialist, I find I am so much happier, so much more peaceful, and honestly have much better emotional well-being, in my present part-time position at my local public library. 

How I came to be interested in LIS can be traced all the way back to my baby-hood. I jokingly affirm with confidence that Syd Hoff’s character “Danny” discovered a dinosaur in 1958 and an infant librarian in the 1990s. My mom likes to tell the following “Danny” story during family “remember when” gabfests as a humorous “should’ve known she’d be a librarian” kind of tale, shaking her head with a fond smile at me. I’d request Syd Hoff’s Danny and the Dinosaur be read aloud to me by my parents, grandparents, and any of our family and friends who came to visit so much that Mom told me they took to hiding it around the house to get me interested in other stories and activities. Inevitably, Danny and the Dinosaur would resurface to be lovingly read…again. I have a dim recollection of finding it under a cushion of the family room couch or at least I remember that bit of the family tale.

Deep down, even when I couldn’t articulate it, I have always believed God blessed me with my love of books to share with others. He gave me a curiosity about famous people and faraway places, worlds within well-written novels, a thirst for information typically quenched by well-researched answers, and a respect for how books can be little puzzle pieces from bygone times by illuminating tidbits of history. “Librarian” checks those boxes quite well when trying to find an occupation that fits all my interests and talents. After completing this MSLIS, I look forward to all the different positions in different avenues of library and information science that will be available to me in different places all over the country and in some of my favorite international countries.

RLGing,

Sarah Hope

Bits and Bobs of Library History

Salutations!

Going back through some old discussion board posts, I found that my INFO 5000 Introduction of Information Professions in Fall 2022 really opened my eyes to all that is within this varied world of library-ness. Below are the highlights from a historical examination of libraries that were quite interesting or unknown to me at the time. There were so many intriguing bits and bobs highlighted by Rubin and Rubin (2020) in Foundations of Library and Information Science that I am tempted to make an outline or two for some historical fiction I want to write someday centered on female librarians throughout history, such as what it must have been like to work in a special library in the 1920s learning to use microfilm as new technology (p. 41). My Top 3 new-to-me, curious, and/or surprising things from Chapter 2 are the Alexandrian Library in Egypt, the illuminated manuscripts of Scriptures in the Middle Ages, and the social libraries that went West.

I was first intrigued that the Alexandrian seems to be the historically and scholastically agreed-upon “first institution to embody the idea of systematically organized, collaborative, encyclopedic research” (as cited in Rubin & Rubin, p. 26). Honestly, I was floored to learn that the Library in Alexandria, Egypt — that iconic, legendary library, of which memes exist in droves it seems — was actually the brainchild of Greek military leaders wanting Alexandria to be the cultural hub for their empire. Previously, I had always assumed one Egyptian dynasty came up with the idea as a means by which to record the history of the world power known as Egypt and their daily life routines and belief systems up to that current reign with subsequent rulers merely adding to the growing body of knowledge. I also appreciated the fact that the Museum/Library as a combined institution housed together was focused on bringing to light all the world’s knowledge at the time into one physical place, so it would ambitiously “be a ‘universal’ library that promoted Greek language” while also including “Near Eastern traditions, including some of the great works of the Jews” (Rubin & Rubin, p. 27). However, I do not approve of the aggressive collection methods which saw fit to confiscate original on incoming trade ships for the purposes of copying them, only to return the copies back to their owners! I found the inclusion of systematic author and subject cataloging within the acquisition and processing details given by Rubin and Rubin’s citation of Wilson’s 1980 work to be interesting, and I especially enjoyed the mention of their ongoing conservation program (pp. 26-27). 

Secondly, not exactly having to do with the roles or functions of libraries as used by people per say, I relished the inclusion of illuminated manuscripts produced during the Middle Ages in monastic libraries. Any illuminated manuscripts of Scriptures have always fascinated me, especially those I saw during my visit to the Museum of the Bible in Washington, D.C. last year. When thinking about the monks pouring over pages and ink for hours to result in these works of art, I definitely see the reverential intention to “reveal the beauty of God,” since I am a devout Christian myself, and understand that the mostly meticulous work “reflected the copyist’s realization that he was representing sacred words from Scripture” (as cited in Rubin & Rubin, p. 33). I found it amusing and encouraging that Clanchy’s 1979 work is quoted as mentioning the fact that visible use and display of these illuminated manuscripts “might have also been  inspirational to the laity and might have even served as an early incentive for literacy” (as cited in Rubin & Rubin, p. 33). Sometimes, seeing someone else with the book you want to understand is all it takes for you to do whatever you have to so you can access what that book has to offer.

Thirdly, I will always have a soft spot in my heart for the Westward Expansion period, thanks to a happy childhood reveling in the works and world of Laura Ingalls Wilder, so I perked up a bit when reading migrants West “took the social library model with them, which resulted in a wide variety of libraries — YMCA libraries, agricultural libraries, ‘ladies’ club,’ mechanics’ and mercantile libraries — all developed to meet the special interests of their particular constituencies” (as cited in Rubin & Rubin, p. 39). The entire concept of the social library was completely new to me. Previously, I had always considered all libraries, even if it was merely a physical location where small, select groups of people seemingly swapped purchased books routinely, would be free to any individual who wished to use the materials offered within said library spaces. If I have connected the dots properly regarding the progression, I understand social libraries to be an interesting precursor to circulating libraries, which, in turn, fostered public libraries as we know them today. I enjoyed the directory of various social libraries established after settlers moved into the wilds of the West, especially the ladies’ club libraries and the mercantile libraries. Who knew shopkeepers and general store owners needed their own specialized little libraries in territories past the Mississippi River and Rockies Mountains? I hadn’t considered it before, and similarly found, in the previous section documenting the types of 1876 libraries, the inclusion of saloon reading rooms, sewing circle libraries, and railroad libraries (as cited in Rubin & Rubin, p. 38) to all be amusing and thought-provoking from an author’s standpoint. For example, were the railroad libraries about railroads and equipment maintenance or was it for travelers to “take a book, leave a book” from stop to stop when riding the rails? Did sewing circle libraries branch out topically to include knitting? What items were available and used in the saloon reading rooms?

RLGing,

Sarah Hope

Reference: Rubin, R. E. & Rubin, R. G. (2020). Foundations of library and information science (5th ed.). ALA Neal-Schuman.

Hey Semantic Web, meet your (possible) fictional predecessor EMERAC!

Salutations!

In my INFO 5300 Organization of Information course in Fall 2022, the professor tasked us with viewing and reflecting on Sir Tim Berners-Lee’s TED Talk, and I concur “data in every aspect of our lives… [needs to be connected because]… you get [resultant] power in a way that doesn’t happen just with the web, with documents… [rather, it’s] really huge power” (TED, 2009, 14:58).

The focus on the manipulation of linked data for the Semantic Web to work properly, specifically the stress on information being translated into computer-readable codes and fed into searchable systems reminded me significantly of the plot for my favorite library flick; in the 1957 film Desk Set, librarian Bunny Watson seemingly matches wits with the electronic brain EMMERAC installed in her reference department by inventor-turned-efficiency-expert Richard Sumner. Incidentally, EMMERAC is an acronym for “Electromagnetic Memory and Research Arithmetical Calculator” (Lang, 1957), so it should have the proper spelling of EMMERAC, which would make Richard’s affectionate nickname for the machine, “Emmy,” make more sense; yet, bloggers and various websites use EMERAC, so that will be retained in all quotations without a designation of [sic] to alert for the misspelling.

I digress; back to the relevant plot. Towards the end of the film, Richard reassures Bunny and her staff that “he never intended for EMERAC to replace Bunny and her team; the goal was for EMERAC to take the easy questions so that the humans would be freed up to tackle the tricky queries… to help, not to replace” (Howard, 2015, para. 80). I feel like the dream of human Tim Berners-Lee for scores of linked data on the Semantic Web becoming a workable, daily reality usable by librarians and patrons alike in the future will bring to fruition even more benefits than the vision of fictional Richard Sumner of his invented technology supporting the work of the librarians working at the Federal Broadcasting Company, sneakily housed in Rockefeller Center.

Ultimately, the plot of “Desk Set reassures those of us who may be uncomfortable with technological advancements (digital natives or not, librarians or not) that it is not actually a question of who will triumph, humanity or machinery. It is a question of how we can utilize technology to make the work of humanity the most effective it can be. That’s a pretty good question to ask” (Berkley-Cramer, 2017, para 10-11). This encapsulates Berners-Lee’s sentiments of humanity employing machinery to its utmost degree of efficiency.

RLGing,

Sarah Hope

References

Berkley-Cramer, K. (2014, October 20) Pop culture re-watch: Desk set. To the Lamp Post. https://tothelamppost.wordpress.com/2014/10/20/pop-culture-re-watch-desk-set/

Howard, C. (2015, February 20). Desk set (1957). The Blonde at the Film. https://theblondeatthefilm.com/2015/02/20/desk-set/

Lang, W. (Director). (1957). Desk set [Film]. Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp.

TED. (2009, March 13). [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OM6XIICm_qo

Radio Girls by Sarah-Jane Stratford (Goodreads Review)

Salutations!

I recently read a fantastic historical fiction novel for grown-ups (hereafter called “adults” meaning merely age of intended audience, not solely content inappropriate for kiddos) that I reviewed over on Goodreads. Below are my thoughts that were originally posted there, with likely some slight variance.

Radio GirlsRadio Girls by Sarah-Jane Stratford
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I picked this up browsing the library shelves after my shift one day since the title was intriguing. One look at the front cover, and I knew I had to try this story. Maisie Musgrave is one of my new favorite literary heroines, and I totally considered dressing as Maisie for “Staff Book Character Dress-up Day,” since it is almost Halloween (at the time of writing this review), but I figured nobody will know who I am; besides, I already dress personally as a combo of 1930s – 1940s – 1950s most days at work anyway, so 1920s would not be a drastic departure.

I digress… even without any blood family nearby, Maisie feels more at home in London than she ever has in her native Toronto or New York where she grew up with her flighty yet overbearing actress mother, so Maisie is quite excited to apply for an opening at the fledgling British Broadcasting Company in the mid-1920s. She begins as a secretary in two departments and becomes almost mesmerized by one of her supervisors – a take-charge, charismatic woman named Hilda Matheson, the director of the Talks department. Maisie ends up requesting to be in the Talks department full-time and slowly works her way up to being Hilda’s almost-assistant, bringing along with her a newfound friend from the typing pool of secretaries. A couple of men cross Maisie’s path, and she becomes rather deeply involved with one. Trouble brews when Maisie ventures into some detective work dealing with the heads of a couple major companies having high German sympathies that include taking over the free press, including radio, in England to help the empire return its former glories, notably aligned with Germany.

The book (at least in paperback) has a nice author’s note and quick biographical sketch of Hilda Matheson, as well as reading discussion questions, and I think it would make a great adult book club title. Is it ridiculous that I really want to go to England and pick up the paperback or hardback edition because the cover has a brunette, instead of the American cover art featuring a blonde? I always considered Maisie to look like me.

View all my reviews over on Goodreads!

RLGing,

Sarah Hope