Yesterday Tomar and I were talking to Death Raider, Head of Cataloging and Scourge of the Southern Wastes. Death Raider and I have an ongoing debate about classification which goes something like this.
Me: This book doesn’t belong in postapocalyptic fiction.
Death Raider, Head of Cataloging and Scourge of the Southern Wastes: Yes it does.
Me: But this book takes place in the here and now. [Literally, since Deana just finished writing it and it’s set in a fictionalized version of our library.]
Tomar grunts in acknowledgement
DR, HCSSW: We live in a postapocalyptic period.
Me: We don’t. Look around. This is still pretty apocalyptic.
DR, HCSSW: This is postapocalyptic. Apocalyptic fiction would have been set earlier.
Me: I think you’re wrong. This is apocalyptic. Postapocalyptic fiction would be set in a period of rebuilding. We’re still in the middle of the apocalypse.
Tomar grunts again
DR, HCSSW: This library is postapocalyptic. We are rebuilding.
Me: That isn’t rebuilding, those are barriers we’re setting up to keep the wulves out.
DR, HCSSW: Our patrons expect consistency.
Me: Are you serious? The last patron we had was that Humungus guy who wanted Fashions of the 1980s and anything we had on alternative lifestyles.
DR, HCSSW screams.
Usually, the conversation doesn't end with Death Raider screaming, but Tomar was biting him. Tomar was never good at expressing himself verbally, so we didn't notice the zombification process setting in. Apparently he was bitten during his last excursion and didn't tell us -- which will be mentioned in his review.
After Clean-Up Time, we elected Trish to be the new Head of Cataloging and Scourge of the Southern Wastes. I brought up my request to move Deana's book to a new location and she hit me.
So now I have a black eye.
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