Free Bird
Happy New Year, Dear Readers.
Winter break is over and I am finally back at my desk. I hope everyone had a good holiday season.
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2023 felt chaotic at times, but as the year advanced, I found some clarity - or maybe it found me. And then all of a sudden, I got really busy with coaching, consulting, and editing. I see opportunity everywhere, I love working with creatives, and…it’s hard to say no.
Of course right now, most of my own projects are half-done, dangling, orphaned a bit - and my biggest creative priority for 2024 is to give them the dignity of being finished.
I think the order of priority has changed a bit, though, and that’s OK. I gotta go where the energy flows, and sometimes work needs room to breathe - especially a memoir.
In addition to working on edits for the upcoming book I’m publishing on Bilbiozona Books (more on that, later) I’ve been heavily into research for the book about my grandfather - and the story keeps getting more juicy. This is a great way to flex my history degree and library background. Digging around in a database is so satisfying, like a good cup of coffee. Mmm, yum.
The screenplay I’m working on, which is loosely based on the memoir, needs a lot more love, but I’m seeing my way through and trying to make it better. The Universe keeps sending me material for it and it’s too good not to include, somehow.
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For instance, recently, another whacky (just wait) story popped up in the news about a man who was masturbating near children in the computer area at my former library.
I had to read the article linked below a couple of times, because I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Are they inferring what I think they are inferring? Here is what security did (emphasis mine):
"The suspect's actions caused a significant disturbance inside the Tempe Public Library, requiring two security guards to deviate from their normal duties to report his behavior, while also ensuring the numerous children inside the library did not walk near the suspect while he was actively offending”.
Court documents contained graphic descriptions of what happened during the incident. Investigators allege the sexual act lasted for about 15 minutes. - FOX 10 Phoenix
Wait, whut?
They made a report, and shielded children from him while he was actively offending? They didn’t stop him right away?!?? No one jumped on this nut job (ha), or threw cold water on him?
THEY LET THIS GUY MASTURBATE IN PUBLIC FOR 15 MINUTES?
THEY LET HIM FINISH?!?
Is that what I’m reading?
I couldn’t make this shit up, honestly.
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A few weeks ago, a screenwriter friend reached out for some background information on book banning and librarians and as I was typing out some answers, it reminded me
How much I missed being a librarian
How much I didn’t miss being a librarian.
That once a librarian, always a librarian, and…
Why I couldn’t work as a librarian no mo.
Besides corrupt city officials, a deranged library director, a pandemic, random masturbators, and library poopers - a lot of it had to do with politics.
And I’ll be super honest - I really want to talk about the politics of librarianship, the politics of ideas and information, the politics of censorship, the politics of freedom. These are all big topics, and I have very personal things I want to say and share, but I’m not sure here, in this newsletter, is the place to do it.
I know many people are absolutely triggered by politics and in all the worst ways. These days, a person might show up on my doorstep, or harass my kids.
I want to trigger deep thought and introspection and growth and humor and joy and acceptance - not outrage.
No matter how good the intention, someone is going to be offended or not like it. It’s the way of art. You put it out there and hope for the best.
And I don’t want to live in fear. Even if I still struggle with it, as a woman and a mom.
My warm-hearted, caring, helpful, metaphysical woo-woo self doesn’t want to offend anyone, and is sorry if she does.
The long-haired chick who loves old-school heavy metal and hard rock music? The one dedicated to artistic expression and good old-fashioned rebellion and free speech, who grew up on Shout At The Devil - The Metalhead Librarian?
She doesn’t give a shit either way if people are offended.
Who cares? They’re adults. Get over it and move on. She has other things to worry about - like writing more books.
I have to constantly remind myself to be that second chick when it comes to being authentic and writing true and having the guts to write what I need to write.
And so it goes.
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I am trying to ascend here and level up, not down.
It’s why I don’t talk politics or share political memes in my public writing life. It’s just too low-energy and divisive. But at the same time, I want people to wake up and save themselves from this agenda of fear, division, and hate.
It is poison. It grows like black mold in a damp basement. It’s everywhere.
Love is the way. Humor is the way. Gentle acceptance of free will is the way. Compassion for our fellow humans is the way.
And if my words help do that, then great.
And if not - it’s not my problem. I wonder, do male writers and artists struggle with expressing their truth? Or is it just me?
How do I get over artistic fear, and free myself?
What would Christopher Hitchens do? What would David Bowie advise? What would George Carlin say?
“Many truths are said in jest.”
William Shakespeare, sort of.
I LOVE STANDUP COMEDY.
Watching it, not performing it.
I have many, many comedic artists that I adore. New and old.
At the very top of the list is George Carlin. My God, how we need another one like him right now.
I think Chappelle might be the closest thing these days.
Unfortunately, and to my great horror, there now appears to be an AI generated comedy special based on the work of George Carlin. His family was not a part of the “show” and his daughter was not informed of the use of his images.
That’s just - gross, honestly. GROSS. The ethics of AI, especially in the arts, are slippery at best.
Comedy is one of the greatest features of the human condition and I don’t want it generated by computer code. I want it to come from heartbeats and flesh.
No one can copy or imitate the greatness of George Carlin, and his takes on politics, religion, so much. He offended people and told the truth - his truth. Just as Chappelle does. Just as so many comics bravely do when sharing their stories.
Making us laugh, and sometimes, making us cry.
As I document my library career, both in the memoir and in the screenplay, there will be politics, and maybe religion, and maybe some GenX grumpiness and twisted humor at all of it.
I did experience an uncomfortable but necessary transformation over the course of many years of being a librarian and working for a city government. My view of myself, the profession, and the country - evoloved in a big way.
Some of it was downright funny. Some of it was tragic.
It was a microcosm of what was going on in the bigger culture.
These are truths and fears that an AI can never mimic.
And I am wrestling with how to present it with love, in service to a higher good, without stepping on a landmine or self-immolating.
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As we head into another election year, I am relieved to admit that I am completely politically homeless.
It’s pretty nice. The skies are blue. I’m a free bird out here. I realize that both sides are actually the same side, and they’re just making us argue amongst ourselves while they get away with crimes.
George Carlin would be proud.
I don’t think I’m alone. Even as I was typing this today, I came across this article: The Great Scramble | The Free Press
Of course, instead of politically homeless, the correct term these days is:
A POLITICALLY UNHOUSED VOTER or, A VOTER EXPERIENCING HOMELESSNESS.
But whatever.
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Sometime during my last years as a librarian, I was informed in a staff meeting that the simple, short, and accurate term “homeless” was demeaning to those experiencing it.
Oh, OK. Sure. My bad.
Every bone in my body wanted to call out the “thought police” amongst my co-workers. We had been discussing policy amongst ourselves in the safety of a meeting room, after all. Ugh, these Millennials!
But, I did remind them that we actually had a City department - conveniently located right upstairs on the main floor of the library - with a sign on the door that literally said HOMELESS OUTREACH.
Their full acronym was HOPE : Homeless Outreach and Prevention Effort.
Were they changing their name to “The Department That Helps Persons Currently Unhoused?”
No, of course not.
HOPE was installed there because we did have a large community of unhoused people using the library. The new free Orbit Bus system provided them with mobility throughout the city, and a dozen tents pitched on the north side of the library at one point allowed everyone to see how “compassionate” we were as a library and as a City.
Until a staff member was assaulted. Then the police broke up the encampment.
And I found the word “demeaning” to be particularly amusing - as if shitting in the streets and injecting yourself with drugs and selling sex in our parking lot wasn’t demeaning. But referring to a homeless person as “homeless” was going too far.
We were more worried about correct language than about good solutions. All the “good solutions” seemed to make things worse, anyways.
Now, I certainly wouldn’t want to deprive any human being of their dignity, so, I’ll call people what they prefer to be called, of course.
But I doubt that those experiencing homelessness really cared at all what we called them. We had air conditioning. We had computers. We had bathrooms and water. Staff - we wanted to help.
And we did, with compassion, empathy, and sometimes, a sandwich from our packed lunches, or cash out of our own pockets. We weren’t supposed to do that, but sometimes we did. I also had sanitary products and extra diapers at my desk for women and parents who were in need.
Just like we’d pack extra sandwiches or snacks from home for the hungry teenagers that showed up after school with no food or money. We weren’t supposed to do that, either.
But, if they came knocking around the work area, I always tried to have something to hand to them. If I can help it, I’m not about to let kids go hungry. What’s an extra box of granola bars, or a bag of microwave popcorn, or a turkey sandwich?
I’ll tell you what it was: It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t ever enough.
But for the one person in front of me - it was something.
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With Love,
AMO
Thanks for reading and allowing me to haunt your inbox every so often. I love hearing from readers, and you can email me at annamarieobrien@gmail.com.
If you want a sneak peak at the book I’m publishing on my Bibliozona Books label, click below and sign up for updates, presale info, and more details, if you’re interested. We are editing now. Production starts soon. I’m so excited for this project!
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