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Deadline |
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December 2005/January 2006
News Subscribers to Lexis Nexis will know that the company runs a regular promotional quiz with a questionnaire to scoop up as much marketing data on their clients as possible. The BBC's Margaret Katny pointed out how one questionnaire seemed to indicate that our profile in the industry was on the up: Rate your awareness of the following organisations:
and later: Have you attended any of the following events in the last year?
Deadline can only assume that the marketing people at Lexis thought CILIP had too high a profile to even be mentioned... Departures and Arrivals Board Jill Tulip left AUKML and IPC after many years for a career in television production. We'll all miss her energy and humour but we wish her huge success and happiness. Katharine Schopflin, AUKML committee chair, departed the BBC on 9th December, after nine and a half years service. Her 11 different jobs have included Document Analyst in the records management department, television cataloguer and Researcher in the BBC's corporate history unit. Watch this space for her update on life after media libraries. Graeme Boyd moved from the glamorous prison library sector to confinement within the walls of Vogue House as Conde Nast's new librarian.
Early on the morning of the 7th of November, aspiring librarians from across the country convened at Friends House for a day devoted to the world of information. The Open day, organised by the Association of UK Media Librarians (AUKML) and the Industrial and Commercial Libraries Group (ICLG), proved an excellent opportunity to learn about studying and working in information and to eat/fill our pockets with as much finger food as was humanly possible. All four Guardian trainees came away from the day knowing whether a career in information was for us. Despite half of us concluding it wasn't, the day was still certainly a valuable experience in making us consider whether the time, work and money involved in gaining a postgraduate qualification would be well spent. Charles Oppenheim, Professor in Information Science at Loughborough University, was our first speaker. His main theme was the postgraduate course itself. He covered all of our main concerns: why you should apply; which course would be the most appropriate; how to get funding; the advantages of a qualification in furthering your career; and the advantages of the resulting network of professional contacts the course provides. Most surprisingly he revealed the wealth of possibilities for finding a spouse amongst one's fellow librarians. Which may have been the key factor in turning some of us off! Sue Hill carried on where Charles Oppenheim left off, exploring where an information qualification can lead to, from the depths of a prison library to the fields of the Football Association. She talked us through the whole job process, from where to look for jobs, how to enhance your CV, how to impress at interviews and how to climb the information ladder. She also provided us with various different appellations to wow our friends with; thus henceforth I shall no longer be known as a lowly librarian but rather a data warrior! After this intensive onslaught of useful guidance we were escorted around the British Library, keeping an eye out for Johnny Depp after learning he was a card holding member. We learnt a number of interesting conversation starters, such as if you take out five books a day for the rest of your life it would take eighty thousand years to get through the collection and that the only reason the collection was opened to the public is because George IV was more interested in gorging on pie than pursuing his father's passion for literature. After lunch, a number of speakers from various fields of information talked us through their what their jobs entailed. The afternoon got off to a shaky start as Chris Whaley wrestled with his power point presentation. Despite the initial technical problems he still managed to convey the main aspects of his work at News International Picture Library, including much interaction with newspaper picture desks. The next talk was a joint effort from the voluntary sector given by Lynette Cawthra of the King's Fund and Nicola Hilliard of the National Children's Bureau. They stressed that working in a charity is a good opportunity to gain a wide range of skills from marketing to counselling to dealing with the special problems arising from limited financial resources. They discussed the interesting dilemma of balancing a desire to provide information to all with the need to generate funds to continue this work. The flamboyant James Denmead from the Department of Health spoke of working as a librarian for the government and the abundant inter-departmental opportunities this opens up. However his focus on interview technique, already covered by Sue Hill, was perhaps not the most useful subject he could have covered. The quietly spoken Helen Lippell, an 'Information Architect' at the BBC, gave those of us unwilling to go back to university hope as she was the only speaker without a postgraduate qualification in information. She talked us through the basics of meta-data. Although not to everyone's taste she assured us it was a growing area and an excellent doorway into working for the BBC. Richard Nelsson and Alan Power from the Guardian research team talked us through their positions and everyone sat up for this much-anticipated introduction into working for the press. We could speak of the oratory fireworks that ensued and if we may be slightly we're nevertheless proud of the company we work for. The day concluded with a surprisingly engaging talk from Jennifer Barrow of the Baker and Mackenzie law firm. She spoke with enthusiasm about the exciting yet pressurized role of a researcher working with, what she referred to as, 'peculiar' lawyers. She praised the training available and the speed at which you learn a wide variety of skills. She warned, however, that unless you're able to sell yourself as a vital member of the firm your job security is at risk. However the pay, similar to working as a librarian in a bank could compensate for this. All in all a highly informative and interesting day. Many thanks to all those involved in making it possible. Hannah Flynn and Holly Bentley are graduate trainees in the Guardian research department
Information professionals are typically analytical, they like their facts to be correct, desire structure and consistency and have retentive memories. Law librarians mostly work for people rather like themselves; media librarians work for their flakey, creative and inconsistent polar opposites. There are exceptions: information units sometimes find creative types in their midst (and tend to nurture them for their good ideas, no matter how badly they carry out enquiries). Many journalists are tenacious, curious, grasp facts well and a have a flair for summary: all 'librarian' traits. However, most media library users think in a very different way from the information workers who serve them. Creative types work from their instinct, often certain of what they want, but unable to articulate it. If you try and translate back to them the gibberish they have remembered from that morning's editorial meeting, you may find they become frustrated and angry. They are poor listeners: wrapped up in their own bubble of brilliant ideas, they tend not to hear what you say, but what they think you would say. Used to thinking in capital letters and broad strokes, they probably view you stereotypically. If you report to a creative type, you will have a hard time convincing them that a new product or procedure won't work - clearly it's your dusty old stick-in-the-mud library character making you resist new ideas. Creatives often have terrible memories. They forget what they originally asked for and won't bother to tell you if they change their minds halfway through. Expect to receive outraged phone calls that the stuff wasn't what they wanted and they won't apologise when you read their original email back to them. Conversely, some ideas become permanent fixtures: do one good piece of work on organic fertiliser and you will be branded the manure expert for ever. They hate obeying rules: they know your opening hours and conditions of use don't really apply to them, or not today while they're panicking. While we try and make information and archives widely and efficiently available, they are possessive, selfish and only think in the short term. They habitually lie about when they need items to get them more quickly, heedless of other people's needs. For them, stealing (and then losing) irreplaceable cuttings files or tapes is justified for today's deadline. Of course you aren't locking up your journals to allow other people to use them in the future, you're only doing it because you're a bureaucratic pen-pusher. This personality type has no interest in skills other than their own. Don't expect them to appreciate the clever detective work you have put into tracing an article or some archive. On the other hand, they are absurdly appreciative when you find facts easily available from the Whitakers Almanac sitting on their desk. Luckily most information professionals don't require credit for career-saving bits of work. The 'reference interview' commonly puts flakey ideas into a concrete, achievable and structured format, but they won't thank you. Not that your customer is being sneaky when they lap up the appreciation- they genuinely think everything was their idea. It can be frustrating working for our creative customers, but there are consolations. Yes, the fact that you enabled someone to deliver an article or programme accurately and to deadline has you branded a semi-autistic fact machine. But of course you're not there to organise their private life. Relish your well-ordered life as you imagine them losing the gas bill, double-booking themselves and forgetting their partners' birthdays. Unless you are their partner of course, in which case nobody can help you.
Guardian informationist Alan Power checks his hat and cane to join a scene of shocking sobriety at The Pleasuredome, otherwise known as the CIG Ball. The party season kicked off early this year with everyone's first Christmas party: the CIG "Information Professionals'" Ball. Despite it still being November, most in attendance were in festive spirit. Overall the party was successful though at times it did feel a bit tacky. A cross between a bad office party and a rubbish wedding might be exaggerating, but there were moments it did feel like a Christmas special of "The Office". With the Slough Office (law librarians) in one corner and the Swindon lot (everyone else) in the other. There were young men in sharp suits handing out business cards with the same vigour as foreign language students handing out fliers on Oxford Street. The dance floor was rocking with alpha males (and females) from LexisNexis and Dialog. Still, if you managed to avoid the hawkers and vendors it was a good chance to catch up with ex-bosses, ex-employees and for some ex-lovers (of course, not me I hasten to add). The good news is that the government's clampdown on "binge drinking" seems to have been heeded by the information community. With this year's event far less raucous than that of twelve months ago. Despite the free flowing, "all you can drink" bar, drunkenness was kept to a minimum with large amounts of sensible behaviour all round. Take for example the queue of people trying to get their coats back at 9.45pm (some three hours before the final whistle). A shocking performance, even for librarians, though one of the queuers reminded me that it was the Online exhibition at Olympia the next day. I repeat a shocking performance . . . The customary raffle was somewhat chaotic and beguiling in that only a select few seemed to have been entered in it. The cries of "fix, fix, fix" resounded as Freshfields Braukhaus Deringer won yet another prize. Still, good luck to the person who won the huge bottle of Baileys. The raffle seemed to be the only piece of formality in an event that needed a bit more ceremony. And there was the food . . . The rumour was that the catering cost GBP12,000 so they must have been the most expensive ham butties in history, even if they were made with focaccia. And it's not always a good idea to start serving the sweets while the savouries are still doing the rounds. Far too many people believed the pre-publicity and turned up in dinner jackets and evening dresses with the rest opting for merely "smarter than usual" outfits. This effort in the clothing department made even the closest of work colleagues unrecognizable, proving that name badges are always a welcome addition at such events. And still on the subject, one partier suggested that adding the wearer's salary to their name badge might be a great ice breaker (or was that jaw breaker?). The star of the show was undoubtedly the venue itself, and in particular the roof gardens. Though it did seem that only a few people were adventurous enough to seek them out. Perhaps it was the yellowing marquee, the bouncy floor and the red lights. More likely it was the OAP-style calor-gas heaters that put people off venturing outside. I have to admit it was all a bit like a Channel Five documentary about swinging. Or, in light of the heavy gas fumes, a public safety film by the government. However, venturing beyond all that tackiness (and danger) and out onto the roof it was a real delight. One reveller who took time explore the roof gardens (or was he simply lost on his way back from the toilets?) told me his experience. "I was stumbling around in the cold and dark and there was a bunch of (yes, you guessed it) law librarians looking for the flamingos. Then a man appeared from the within the bushes using his mobile as a torch asking people to follow him. Stepping over a "no-entry" sign it started to feel very Narnia-like. The path wound round a pond and we eventually ended up looking at a tiny hutch housing two of the birds". Flamingos? Narnia? Mobile phone as a torch? I figured that this particular reveller was in need of a drugs test but his story is corroborated by a handful of others. One person told me how one year someone actually threw one of the flamingos over the side of the building "just for a laugh". Because the poor thing had had its wings clipped, to stop it escaping, it fell 60 feet below to its death. So despite the groans about the food, the far-too sensible behaviour and the GBP25 per head ticket (we always have to moan about that one) it will go down as a great night. And an added bonus for AUKML was that it was well attended by its members, some of whom were among the final revellers still in the venue by last orders.
Coming up The next issue of Deadline looks at the pick of professional - related reading and previews April's Library & Information Show at Birmingham NEC. Letters and contributions are always welcome ( copy deadline for April issue is March 21st) to the address below.
Deadline is produced by Paul Fairclough from the library at Time Out Magazine with contributions from Richard Nelsson, Alan Power, Hannah Flynn, Holly Bentley Katharine Schopflin. Please send news, reviews and letters to: Paul Fairclough. The opinions expressed in Deadline are not necessarily those of the AUKML.
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