The Lending Library

by Aliza Fogelson

I was now holding the book innocently in my hands, like a normal library-goer. Which I was. Except for my overwhelmingly passionate desire to read books and reread them, hold them, surround myself with them, and yes . . . sometimes even smell them. It wasn’t just the heady scent of glue in the spine. It was also the scent of the pages—timeworn or slicked with new ink—and the old cloth cases, how the linen had aged. The smell of imagination and escape.

This is where the whole journey of writing The Lending Library began for me: as a love letter to books and readers. I knew the novel would also be about a library, a place where people can find joy, solace, escape, community. My hope was that it would also remind readers of some of their own favorite memories of a library they love.

“There’s no secret. Whenever I can, I do a lot of talking with the subjects before we start. I guess I just look at what’s really there instead of what I want to see or what the subject wants me to see.”

This idea is probably controversial for a lot of artists! Often, the artist doesn't have the opportunity to have conversations with the model, or wouldn't necessarily want to because of how it might influence the artwork. But of course there are many examples of artists who created beautiful, inspired works based on models they knew (and in many cases, loved). I liked the idea that Sullivan might be interested in talking to the people before they sat for her, and that it would help her capture something Dodie saw as essential and true. Recently, I read about a painter named Brian Peterson of Faces of Santa Ana (facesofsantaana.com) who gets to know his neighbors experiencing homelessness and paints wonderful portraits of them and then donates part of the proceeds to their life necessities. You can sense how the stories they have told him add texture to his portraits of them. I have always been in awe of how many different kinds of visual art there are and how many different styles of making it, and how it can transform us and connect us to other people—also true of books, of course.

The library was like this too—you could get exactly what you were looking for or surprise yourself.

Writing a novel is also like this, for me! I've learned over the years that I can't write based on an outline. My greatest joy in writing comes from the surprise and discovery that happens along the way. For much of the process, I know my characters well, and I may know the beginning, the middle, and the end of the story—or glimpses of them—but it's essential for me just to skip around and write parts of the book that interest me and see what the characters do as I lose myself in that particular scene or story arc. Sometimes writing this way creates challenges, where storylines or the timing don't match up or there are inconsistencies in a character's development, so it involves a whole lot of editing and revising. But to me, it's worth it for the pleasure along the way, and I don't think I could write any other way—or want to!

did she have any idea of the burning urgency of reading for a book-loving child, how two weeks was a complete eternity without a new book to dive into?

As a voracious reader since I was a child, the thought of having to wait weeks for a new book is so painful! Elmira was one of the first characters in the original draft of the novel (after Dodie and her sisters). I knew that a big part of the reason Dodie would "have" to open the lending library in her own home was because she couldn't bear the thought of a child, a student of hers, needing books and not being able to get them. In an early draft, the main conflict of the book was that the lending library burns down (and it turns out that Elmira is accidentally responsible). It became clear pretty quickly that the novel needed more of an internal journey for Dodie—and her desire for motherhood became central as the book evolved.

Edith Wharton’s The Glimpses of the Moon, which I reread every few years. It’s a favorite with its Venetian palazzos and cooling dips in Lake Como and Parisian sojourns and the splendid struggle of Nick and Susy between love or money.

This delightful book was recommended to me by my dear friend Maggie. It is a love story that transports you to some beautiful places, which is welcome right now, and it also explores what the true riches in life are. I have such fond memories of talking about this book (and all kinds of unrelated silly things) over wine and something chocolate-y at book club with my friends years ago. I miss it and them! Have you discovered any new favorite reads through a friend or book club recommendation?

Why wait to go to romantic spots—which of course were also some of the most special, magical, beautiful ones—until a love connection appeared? Our sisterhood friendships with each other were special, magical, and beautiful enough in themselves.

Some of the greatest love stories in life and literature are romantic ones. But to me, some of the most important love stories are the ones between family or friends (who are truly, as they say, "the family we choose"). One of the things I hoped The Lending Library would achieve was to celebrate the love story between Dodie and her sisters. Even in the hardest times she faces, Dodie realizes how lucky she is to have family who loves her. Dodie didn't have unconditional love from Not Dad. But Coco's and Maddie's love is constant, even when she tests it, and so is her love for them.

It was a book written by Alexandre Dumas fils, and it had never been even as remotely famous as any of his father’s work like The Three Musketeers or The Count of Monte Cristo. The story had served as the basis for La Traviata, one of the most popular operas of all time—and the one Maddie had just teased me about since I had dragged her to it two out of the ten times I had seen it at the Met. And yet the book had remained almost unknown—rarely translated and hard to find in the United States. It was The Lady of the Camellias.

Before The Lending Library, I wrote a novel that was never published, set in Paris in the Belle Époque period (at the turn of the twentieth century), about a young male writer who falls in love with a courtesan. When I was writing that book, I came across The Lady of the Camellias and was absolutely floored by how much great literature and art it had inspired, including play and film adaptations of the book itself, the opera La Traviata (which some people feel influenced La Boheme, which inspired Rent) . . . The list goes on! While Dodie's story is contemporary, I loved the idea that as a bibliophile she found insight and solace in books, and it seemed natural that a book about a great love story would help her see her own situation in a new light. One of the questions I received often from readers was, "Do you have a list of the books you mention in The Lending Library?" So I made one! You can find and download it on my website at https://alizafogelson.com/the-lending-library. What are some of your favorite love stories in literature?

The Elegance of the Hedgehog, and it’s on my nightstand. It will make you laugh, and it will break your heart.

Quirky, funny, warm-hearted, and deeply moving, this book is a true gem. It is one of those books you root for and hope will make it into the hands of lots of readers. It's not always easy for books in translation to break through here in the U.S., and it's wonderful that this French one did. This novel is another suggested read on the downloadable list of books mentioned in The Lending Library on my website: https://alizafogelson.com/the-lending-library.

My relationship with the library had started to deepen the way that comes from knowing your loved one well. Each time, before I entered, I would stand in my kitchen and peek through the sunroom door. The faint lemony scent that had been there when I moved in had now been fully replaced by the smell of old paper. Each hand that touched a book, that gently flipped the pages or pressed them down so the spine would lie flat or even bent the paperback around itself . . . each of these acts of devotion would release the delicious secret scent inside.

Is there anything quite like the smell of old, well-loved books? As you know from the beginning of the book, that was one of the main inspirations for the novel. And after being away from her sunroom library for a while, it would be such a pleasure for Dodie to realize that her little spot had begun to smell like a library!

The library had taken on a life of its own. It was a place where people connected. Sometimes, those conversations alone were enough to make a person leave with a smile on her face or walk a little bit lighter. But I had been so wrapped up in my drama with Terabithia that I hadn’t fully recognized the miracle that I had created . . . until it was all on the verge of falling apart. I was in danger of losing the library. And Shep. I couldn’t be there for Terabithia—financially or otherwise—unless I closed the library for good or gave it to Kendra. That was not something I could live with. My library was my baby too.

From the first moment Dodie popped into my head, she was an optimist. She'd had some losses and challenges in her life, but she had lived a sheltered life in many ways, and in part thanks to her family and friends, had this incredibly strong belief in the positive and in the good and in the possibilities. Her experience trying to adopt Terabithia tests her in ways she's never been tested before. (If she becomes a mother, that will test her in all new ways, too!)

“But I can’t just . . . we can’t just . . . adopt the child you’ve been breaking your back to try to adopt. I know from losing Sianeh. It’s specific. It’s personal. Even more so in your case because of your relationship with Terabithia. You know him. He knows you.” I understood why I had to keep talking about this with Coco. Why I had to insist that she consider it. But damn was it painful. Like I was operating on my own organs. “Yes, it is personal. And for a long time, I kept thinking I could rise to the occasion. But this isn’t only about me and what I want. It’s about Shep and what he wants. He’s my fiancé—I have to take that into account. I may have already messed things up beyond repair. The fact is that he’s not ready. And this is also about my friends in Chatsworth. I started this library for them, and I have been neglecting it and the people who need it. And it’s about Terabithia and what’s best for him. If you and Mark adopt him, I’ll get to be a meaningful part of his life. And so will Mackie and Jeff. If someone else adopts him, there’s no guarantee.”

This was one of the most painful parts of the book to write. Dodie's desire to adopt Terabithia isn't just because she wants to be a mother so badly. It's not just because she wants to do something for Sullivan and her parents, who have become close to her. As Coco says, Dodie's love for Terabithia is specific and personal. And so deep. But she wants him to have the best life possible, and she has finally come to realize that she isn't in the place to give that to him, that she still has growing to do, and that the truly unselfish thing to do is to try to help him find a happy forever home. It is in some ways more painful that her sister and brother-in-law can offer that, and one of the reasons she avoids Coco for a while. But I think the pain I felt in writing this part of the book was like going through growing pains with Dodie—I was proud of her, and a little relieved, that she had reached this point. Ironically, Dodie is being her most selfless—a quality that motherhood requires constantly, as I have learned—and showing her maternal side toward Terabithia when she gives up hope of becoming his mother.

It’s as though you’re drugging yourself with other people’s happy endings.”

Breakups are tough. Some people turn to ice cream (me!). Some people go sky-diving or do other daredevilish things to take their minds off the situation (definitely not me!). Others watch rom-coms and read romance novels with happily ever afters, where you get to enjoy the catharsis of seeing a couple separate but then end up together—or end up better off without each other (definitely me!). Dodie seemed like exactly the type of character who would (over)indulge in these kinds of stories. Have you ever read a book that helped you through a bad breakup?

Life’s too short, I thought. You have to tell people you love them when you love them. You have to trust that they love you back just as much even when they make mistakes. Most of all, I told myself, you have to stop blaming yourself. Sometimes terrible things happen. Sometimes it’s your fault, and sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s no one’s fault.

It means so much to me that this was one of many readers' favorite parts of the book. Dodie has a loving family and great friends, but her father's abandonment deeply changed how she views relationships, and makes it hard for her to trust Shep, especially after he leaves. Before she even meets with her father, I think she's already learned everything she needs to know the insights in these lines about herself and about love, and what Not Dad says only confirms it for her. I also loved the idea that a favorite book was what helped her have that "Eureka" moment.

I could believe that everything would turn out okay even if I wasn’t always perfect.

From the very beginning, I knew that my main character would be imperfect. I think it makes characters so much more interesting and authentic to read about than if they never make mistakes and just happen to have the bad luck to end up in terrible circumstances. As a writer, you're always taking a risk when your character does things that are confusing or frustrating (I know I was frustrated with Dodie a number of times in the book—just talk to Shep already, geesh!) or unkind or selfish. But if I wanted Dodie to be as real as possible, she would have flaws and faults. My hope was that readers would like her and root for her enough to stick around to see if she overcame them and grew through her experiences. Thank you to all the readers who did, and all of you who spent some of your precious reading time in Dodie's world!