When I lived in my hometown, I used to go to the public library once or twice a week. My hometown had a great library- nice new building, huge collection for a small town, lots of meeting spaces and places for kids to exist with minimal supervision. I could almost always find something to read or watch.

I’ve moved a few times since then, and could never really bring myself to go to the libraries that were local to each new house. There was nothing inherently bad about them; I just had no desire to set foot in them.

I broke that trend recently, and began to patronize my new local library. It was an interesting experience, going back to a familiar institution in an unfamiliar part of the country, after almost six years of getting my reading material elsewhere.

I’m not going to tell the internet precisely where I live, so, allowing for a little caginess, this library is located in a small Midwestern town of about five thousand people. Not a city, not the middle of nowhere. It’s a bit more affluent than average, and very, very Americana. That last bit is a feature, not a bug; I had started to worry that there were no such places left. There’s agriculture, some industry, a lot of small local businesses. People get married and have families; the dads work, the kids go to the local schools and play on the local teams, and the moms juggle their jobs and their kids with passable skill. There’s also a lot of stay-at-home moms- more on that later. There are also multiple colleges within driving distance, and thus, a small number of commuter students.

The whole place has a vibe of ‘average America, forty years ago, plus modern tech.’ I love it and I’ll be really sad to leave it next year.

So, what kind of library does such a town have, and what can I, a writer, do with it?

Well, it’s fairly small, about the size of a large house. The stacks only take up a couple thousand square feet, I’m guessing, and the rest of the building is given over to meeting rooms, administrative offices, and a play area for kids. But it’s neat and clean and seems pretty up to date in terms of technology. There are sections for fiction- romance is its own section- and nonfiction, and a decent collection of children’s, teen, and YA books. Most of the fiction is popular modern fiction- I took out a couple of Bernard Cornwell’s Saxon Tales; there were a lot of Amish sweet-type romances; and the works of Clive Cussler and his collaborators had almost an entire bookcase to themselves. There were also some classics and a lot of cozy mystery. The shelf of Agatha Christie falls somewhere in the middle.

An interestingly large portion of the library is given over to less-traditional things. DVDs are fairly normal, but they also have kid’s toys- I didn’t look to see if patrons can actually checkout toys- board games and puzzles, which do seem available for checkout. They also have an extensive ebook catalog, and specialized apps if you prefer to read on your phone versus a computer.

The library really comes into its own as a meeting place. There’s the kids’ storytime on a weekday morning, when the parking lot is crowded with car seat-toting minivans and SUVs. There’s a book club; this month’s choice is one of those tradpub novels about a family escaping the Holocaust that seem to appeal to the type of person who joins book clubs. The library also has after school programs for kids and teens, helped by its location- only a short walk from the schools. There are evening programs and lectures for adults- I might go to the one next week that’s being presented by a local Master Gardener.

I’m not going to say that this library is a perfect representation of what average people want in a library, but it seems reasonably close. They want relatively undemanding books- mostly romance in varying levels of spiciness, cozy mystery, adventure- a safe place for their kids to gather, and a lot of small ways to connect with their neighbors that don’t require a huge time or emotional investment.

There’s not a lot of room for niche books in such a small library; it’s all about the mass appeal. This isn’t necessarily a recommendation or a criticism; it just is. Libraries have small budgets; they usually can’t afford to take a chance on something that’s interesting to only a tiny percentage of their patrons.

There are ways around this, if you want to see your books on library shelves. Most libraries take recommendations, and some take donated books. Donating an ebook might also be the way to go, and because the library doesn’t actually have to shelve it in their limited space, they might be more willing to accept ebooks with niche appeal.

If you’re willing to invest a bit of time and money in the project, you can take advantage of the library’s role as a gathering place. Make business cards to put on bulletin boards or ask the librarians if they’ll hand out bookmarks. Ask if they’ll let you do a meet-the-local-author event, or set up camp at one of the tables on an evening or a Saturday morning, so you can chat with the other patrons.

This is all assuming you have published books ready to go, and they look reasonably professional (I’m working on it, honest). Everything I saw on the shelves was very sleek and shiny, apparently professionally published and/or trad pub, and mostly in hardback.

Getting your books onto the local library’s shelves probably won’t make you famous or rich. But it can be a pathway to new fans; it builds local connections; and if, like me, you’re moving in a year, you can use everything you’ve learned about the process to start over again in the next town.

What’s your local library like? Do you have your books on its shelves? Is it worth trying to patronize or contribute to it, and why or why not?