The library has changed.
Oh, there are still lots of books and frumpy librarians, but it’s not the same. Gone are the reverent whispers of book-lovers. Gone are the muffled sounds of volumes being shelved. Gone is the quiet.
Rustling papers and turning pages have been replaced by the tapping of computer keyboards. Sacred silence between the stacks has been replaced by cell phones ringing and loud conversations. Children’s story time has disappeared and a library visit is now an opportunity for kids to run and shriek while their parents shout at them from across the room.
I came to the library to write. Should be a good place to concentrate, you’d think. Perhaps it is. When it’s closed.
Inside the Writer 