The Right Word by Peter Riley, Branch Manager

     When I found that I was to submit an article on behalf of the Adams County Library System my first thought was "Great, that should be fun."  I have no prior experience writing articles but since I have never been one to pass up a chance to exercise a little blind optimism, I plunged right into the assignment.  As it turns out, at that initial moment of naive enthusiasm I had reached the apex of the project.

       Many of you may know me from my previous position as a circulation clerk at the Gettysburg Library.  You may recall that I was rarely at a loss for words and maybe a bit too raucous for the sedate atmosphere one normally associates with a library.  Other readers may have come to know me in my current post as the Branch Manager of the Arendtsville Library.  If you find yourself in the latter group I am sure you will have no trouble identifying me as having no particular fondness for silence.  That being said I imagined transferring  my thoughts to paper would be a veritable breeze.  But, as I stared at the blank piece of paper in front of me it was no breeze I felt.  Twas an ill wind.

        To begin with, part of the problem was that as a library employee I am surrounded by the finest writing ever produced.  Authors capable of transforming our thoughts and guiding our moral codes with the power of words.   Words that are etched into the pages with the weight of their meanings.  In other words, good writing is heavy stuff.  Now I don’t wish to give  the impression I believed I  was embarking on some mystical journey into Nobel  territory.  It’s an article for our newspaper, I get it.  The paper employs many very talented writers and reporters so I knew at the outset that the Gettysburg Times wasn’t expecting to see a big spike in circulation after this article left the press.

      But people are going to read it, right? Every time someone pulls the Times from the paper stand my writing will be in there  and that person might actually read what I wrote right?  And once it’s done, there’s no taking it back, no way to erase my public exposure as a worthless scribbler, right?  It was mortifying.

        That’s when it hit me.  My head cleared of the rumble that seemed deafening only moments ago.  It was so simple.  I wouldn’t write the article.  I didn’t need to and you certainly would benefit from my refusal to do so.  Why bother reading whatever panicked mess I would have come up with as I sit here only twelve hours until the deadline I was given when there are countless writers who put their heart on each page they compose.

         So, I am very sorry to those among you who have tortured yourself by reading this far.  I am sure you love great writing and I do, too.  I love it enough to recognize that I can’t produce it.  Besides, you know where to find the kind of talent you seek.  Turn the pages of this paper and you will doubtless find dozens of articles that will pique your interest.  These guys are pros and they deserve your attention.  Take it a step further and come to the Arendtsville Library and pick out a classic by Hemingway or Camus.  Stop in the Harbaugh-Thomas Library in Biglerville to pick up a novel by Jodi Picoult (who by the way should  change the name of her book 19 minutes to 19 seconds because that’s how long it takes to pull you in.)  Take a trip to the Gettysburg Library or our branches in Fairfield, New Oxford, Littlestown and East Berlin.  That’s where you can find words written two hundred years ago that stir with a vitality and presence that I might strive to create but would fail miserably were I to try.  So I won’t.  I know what Hunter S. Thompson meant when he wrote, "The difference between the right word and the almost right word is like the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning." Or as a friend of mine in Baltimore once said, "Thats just too far to walk, man."