Susan prompted me to go to the Cincinnati (Hamilton County) library's website and suggest that they get FFoSM as soon as possible. The form to fill out includes a space for comments, so I made sure to note that it's the second in a series, and that they currently have the first book in circulation.

Oh, and there are 6 copies in the system currently, with 2 checked out and 1 on hold by someone, to be checked out.

I'm sure there are demographic considerations and circulation statistics involved, but I'd love to know what exactly.

I asked Greg about this. What scientific system, what criteria?

He goes by his gut. There are some they have to buy, mostly NYT bestsellers, and Big Name Authors... and the rest... each area has someone with a bent for it, and they buy based on what they think their customers (it's no longer PC to call them patrons) will want, and they rely heavily on those types of requests. They LIKE noisy patrons like Susan.

eta: If he doesn't get at least one of a requested book at his favorite branch, it's because they ran out of money, or the main library hijacked his shipment.

Man, there is something genuinely ooky about calling the people who frequent and make use of a free circulating library "customers". Just - ew. Wrong, somehow.

Teppy, I have a drabble category suggestion for you for some future time: bells. Bells, or chimes; anything from campanology to the doorbell ringing to the phone to windchimes. Bells.

Teppy, I have a drabble category suggestion for you for some future time: bells. Bells, or chimes; anything from campanology to the doorbell ringing to the phone to windchimes. Bells.

The tintinnabulation!

The tintinnabulation!

Hee hee. Someone had to say it. If this were a more active thread, it would have been a ginormous x-post.

The tintinnabulation!

(blink) Huh? I'm missing or forgetting a reference somewhere...

You know, I just *love* knowing that people would get it, instead of looking at me funny.

(looking at Steph funny)

Deb, it's a poem by E.A. Poe:

The Bells


I.


Hear the sledges with the bells- 
Silver bells! 
What a world of merriment their melody foretells! 
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, 
In the icy air of night! 
While the stars that oversprinkle 
All the heavens, seem to twinkle 
With a crystalline delight; 
Keeping time, time, time, 
In a sort of Runic rhyme, 
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells 
From the bells, bells, bells, bells, 
Bells, bells, bells- 
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. 


II. 


Hear the mellow wedding bells, 
Golden bells! 
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! 
Through the balmy air of night 
How they ring out their delight! 
From the molten-golden notes, 
And an in tune, 
What a liquid ditty floats 
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats 
On the moon! 
Oh, from out the sounding cells, 
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! 
How it swells! 
How it dwells 
On the Future! how it tells 
Of the rapture that impels 
To the swinging and the ringing 
Of the bells, bells, bells, 
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells, 
Bells, bells, bells- 
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! 


III. 


Hear the loud alarum bells- 
Brazen bells! 
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! 
In the startled ear of night 
How they scream out their affright! 
Too much horrified to speak, 
They can only shriek, shriek, 
Out of tune, 
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, 
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire, 
Leaping higher, higher, higher, 
With a desperate desire, 
And a resolute endeavor, 
Now- now to sit or never, 
By the side of the pale-faced moon. 
Oh, the bells, bells, bells! 
What a tale their terror tells 
Of Despair! 
How they clang, and clash, and roar! 
What a horror they outpour 
On the bosom of the palpitating air! 
Yet the ear it fully knows, 
By the twanging, 
And the clanging, 
How the danger ebbs and flows: 
Yet the ear distinctly tells, 
In the jangling, 
And the wrangling, 
How the danger sinks and swells, 
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells- 
Of the bells- 
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells, 
Bells, bells, bells- 
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells! 


IV. 


Hear the tolling of the bells- 
Iron Bells! 
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! 
In the silence of the night, 
How we shiver with affright 
At the melancholy menace of their tone! 
For every sound that floats 
From the rust within their throats 
Is a groan. 
And the people- ah, the people- 
They that dwell up in the steeple, 
All Alone 
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, 
In that muffled monotone, 
Feel a glory in so rolling 
On the human heart a stone- 
They are neither man nor woman- 
They are neither brute nor human- 
They are Ghouls: 
And their king it is who tolls; 
And he rolls, rolls, rolls, 
Rolls 
A paean from the bells! 
And his merry bosom swells 
With the paean of the bells! 
And he dances, and he yells; 
Keeping time, time, time, 
In a sort of Runic rhyme, 
To the paean of the bells- 
Of the bells: 
Keeping time, time, time, 
In a sort of Runic rhyme, 
To the throbbing of the bells- 
Of the bells, bells, bells- 
To the sobbing of the bells; 
Keeping time, time, time, 
As he knells, knells, knells, 
In a happy Runic rhyme, 
To the rolling of the bells- 
Of the bells, bells, bells: 
To the tolling of the bells, 
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells- 
Bells, bells, bells- 
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. 



-- THE END --