{"id":2575,"date":"2023-11-04T16:06:04","date_gmt":"2023-11-04T23:06:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2575"},"modified":"2023-11-04T16:06:04","modified_gmt":"2023-11-04T23:06:04","slug":"one-mans-trash","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2023\/11\/04\/one-mans-trash\/","title":{"rendered":"One Man’s Trash"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Start your story with a student discovering a hidden room in a university library.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The reference stacks were close, dusty. The mismatched bookshelves crammed full, combined with the smell of aged paper and years of dust invoked the used bookstore Lisha loved as a child. Some of the volumes were beyond antique, many of them irreplaceable. So why<\/em>, she wondered, is there a draft here, in the most protected part of the library?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lisha used the flashlight on her phone to illuminate the dust motes in the air, following the currents and eddies upstream. She ended up at the most out-of-place bookshelf \u2014 if one could call it that \u2014 in the entire library. Students called it the \u201ctank.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The \u201ctank\u201d was the only bookshelf on wheels, and the only one hermetically sealed and fitted with its own climate control. Inside, held in precisely made cradles, were the rarest, most expensive tomes in the library\u2019s collection. The top shelf held a thirteenth-century volume containing the gospels, along-side a little-known sketch book with Sir Isaac Newton\u2019s scribbles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The middle shelf held a scroll recovered from an archaeological dig dated to roughly 2000 BCE. It had never been opened, for fear it would disintegrate; for now, it waited for a new technology or technique to discover its secrets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The collection of diaries on the bottom shelf, perhaps not as important as the other items, brought Lisha\u2019s attention back to what she\u2019d been doing. The draft was coming from beneath the tank. She rolled it forward into the aisle to see if there was a problem with the climate control.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was only as she was looking at the solid back that hid the machinery that she realized she wouldn\u2019t have been able to tell if there was anything wrong in the first place. She felt a breath of cool air against her ankle. The wall had a gap beneath it, there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lisha knelt to inspect the gap under the wall, and as she did, pushed against the wall for support. The wall \u2014 or more properly, the door covered in the same paneling as the walls \u2014 swung in. The room was a library within a library. The difference being this was the sort of Victorian library one would expect in a manor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Still using her phone\u2019s flashlight, she traced the books on the shelves. Encyclopedia Britannica, all, from the ninth edition to the fifteenth. She swept her light over the furnishings. Leather sofas and chairs, an ornate desk beside a fireplace, and on the other side of the fireplace another leather chair with a small table. On the table was a paperback, a battery-operated reading light, and a sport bottle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So, she wasn\u2019t the first to discover the room, and someone had been here recently. She heard the wind gusting outside, the sound, along with a blast of cool air, coming down the chimney and out the fireplace, swirling the ashes around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, dear.\u201d The voice that came with the bright light from the doorway startled her. Lisha whirled around, expecting to be in some sort of trouble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2026uh\u2026there was a draft, and I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s my fault,\u201d the voice behind the bright light said. The large flashlight pointed at the floor, and Lisha could make out Esther, the head librarian.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUh\u2026hi, Esther.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNice to see you, Lisha. I guess I forgot to close the flue this morning.\u201d Esther stepped in and pushed the door closed behind her. She lit one of the oil lamps near the door and the room was filled with a warm, soft glow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know this was here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFew do. And I would ask that you don\u2019t share its existence with anyone. This is one of the rare places on campus that a few of us can retreat to and not be bothered.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEverything about this room, except for the more recent encyclopedias, looks Victorian. What was it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen the Women\u2019s College opened up and shared the library, this room was walled off to allow a place for the \u2018gentlemen\u2019 to avoid the women, smoke their cigars and pipes, and drink their brandy or sherry while they studied<\/em>.\u201d She pointed at the framed, Victorian-era, \u201cFrench postcards\u201d on the walls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m surprised it\u2019s still here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot that surprising. It was never wired for electricity with the rest of the library \u2014 first in the thirties, then in the subsequent renovations since. When the colleges joined in the fifties, this became something of a \u2018secret society\u2019 boys club. Now, it\u2019s a different sort of secret society that only a few staff and faculty that know about.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo, that\u2019s your novel and water bottle?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, that would be William \u2014 Dr. Hillyard. He only reads his trashy novels where he can\u2019t be seen. Wouldn\u2019t do for a professor of 19th<\/sup> century French literature to be seen reading Wild Women in the Big House by Amee Butts.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lisha giggled. \u201cNo, I suppose it wouldn\u2019t. Wait, how do you know what he\u2019s reading?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019re all reading it. This is a trashy novel reading club. We have our guilty pleasures.\u201d Esther smiled. \u201cEvery Tuesday night we gather when the library closes early. We build a fire, have a couple drinks, and rip apart the latest trash we all read. Those of us who smoke or vape, do so by the fireplace \u2014 with the hot air rising, it pulls the smoke or vapor right out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lisha looked around the room once more. \u201cI suppose I have to leave, and not come back, then?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTechnically<\/em>, I can\u2019t bar any student from access to any part of the library except for the offices, the storage, and the restorations room.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo buts \u2014 unless you abuse the privilege. Just remember, when you come in, pull the museum case back into place and push the door shut.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lisha nodded. \u201cMuseum case? Oh! The tank<\/em>. Makes sense.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Esther moved to the fireplace, reached up inside, and a squeak and clank announced the shutting of the flue. \u201cNo fire unless you\u2019re part of Omtiamp, and then only during the meeting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOmptiamp?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Esther turned on her flashlight and pointed it at an embroidered patch above the fireplace that said, \u201cOne man\u2019s trash is another man\u2019s pleasure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh. I didn\u2019t even see any wood for a fire.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn the bottom of the desk over there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lisha moved to the other side of the desk and found a stack of firewood and kindling in the now doorless cabinet on the left side. Two of the stack of drawers on the right side were labeled. The top said, \u201cMatches.\u201d The second down said \u201cDrinks.\u201d Lisha pulled on the handle, and the three drawer faces swung out together revealing a small wet bar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow does one join the Omtiamp Book Club?\u201d Lisha asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust Omtiamp,\u201d Esther said, \u201cand it\u2019s easy. Bring a bottle of decent booze. None of the ten-dollar plonk, but it doesn\u2019t need to be top-shelf, either. Then, recommend a novel, the trashier and worse written the better. But there are rules.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTrashy novel rules, hit me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFirst, it has to be currently available for sale somewhere we can all pick it up\u2026in a physical copy. No e-book only deals. Second, it can\u2019t be self-published, or we\u2019d spend eternity reading Chuck Tingle books. Third, it can\u2019t be one we\u2019ve already done. Fourth and final rule, nothing that for some unknown reason, became popular.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou mean like the one that started as fanfiction and became a whole series of movies.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHave you already done \u2018The Jungle Loves Back,\u2019 by Rex Greentree?\u201d Lisha asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Esther pulled out her phone, looked it up, and smiled. \u201cHalf a star! I\u2019ll send out the buy notice to the club, and I\u2019ll see you here next week, don\u2019t forget the booze. If you like, you can read William\u2019s copy of the current book and rip it apart with us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be here.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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