The Library Fugitive

Okay, know how I told you to clear away all your unfinished business? And I told you what was on my list of Incompletes? Things like taxes and getting my oil changed? 'Member?

Well, I didn't do any of it. Sorry. And I didn't tell you about one thing. Ech. I mentioned it, in passing, lumped in with all my other incompletes. In an I'm-pregnant-pass-the-peas kind of way. I have five overdue library books.

So, what, right? No. These are so far beyond any normal concept of overdue that I don't even think that's the right word for them. They are undead. Vampire library books. Zombie books. Books that I have packed up and moved to three different apartments. Books that sit in my bookshelf groaning and drooling and sucking valuable life energy from me. Books the library probably doesn't even want anymore.

All five of these books are about ballet. All five were used during the research of my first-ever published book: a biography of Karen Kain, Canadian prima ballerina. I adored her as a kid and I got the opportunity to write about her. Write a book about her. A book that was going to be published, thank you, and would earn the trivial but strangely satisfying honour of being the #3 bestseller in Canmore.

For like five minutes. Maybe a week. But it happened. Which makes me think that I could justifiably call myself a best-selling author. *Snorts with laughter.* Maybe I'll try that at a party sometime.

This book I wrote was published in 2005. I can't remember how long it took between the writing of it and the publishing of it. But even if it was four seconds, that means I've had these library books for three years. Three years. And probably more like four.

So basically, I've been a fugitive from the Calgary Public Library for a long, long time. With any luck, I'm their #1 Most Wanted. #3 Bestseller AND #1 Most Wanted. Damn, I'm good! Only, they probably think I've died or gone into some witness protection program or something.

Who would the library's #1 Most Wanted be do you think? Maybe some perv who draws penises in the margins. All different sizes and shapes. Huge spooging yangs in all the self-help books. WANTED: The Calgary Cocksketcher. Imagine what his Wanted poster composite sketch would look like. Blech. And the description: "Suspect is male, circumsized and bends to the left."

For some reason, this is making me think about when we were kids and my dad found his copy of The Joy Of Sex open and face down in the basement. He gathered the three of us girls down there and asked us which one was reading the book and whether we had any questions. We all denied reading it. It was me. Obviously.

Anyhoo. I'm off to face the library music. Why now, you might ask. Why, after three to four years of a libraryless life? Seriously, just Google it. The thing is, friends, I love books. I love them to death. The feel of them, the smell of them, just holding them. They are, quite possibly, my favourite things on the planet.

And I just realized yesterday that I am stripping myself of the delicious gift of an unlimited supply of books. I never looked at my criminal ways from that perspective before. I always kind of thought it was just basic irresponsibility. But no. It's much worse. It's low self-worth. It may sound extreme, but what would you call it if someone has created a world where they don't give themselves FREE access to the thing they love the most. God. When you put it that way, any late charge in the world is pocket change!

My plan is to go in there and say something really dramatic like, "I am here to turn myself in." Or something. I haven't worked out the script just yet. But I'm going in there to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help me God. And when I do, three or four years of psychic weight will be lifted! All for the low, low price of five books!

I'll let you know how it goes.