Andover Public Library, Andover, Kansas

I'm going to give the Andover Public Library a second chance. I am sure they care (they don't) but what matters more is that I care...and such a pretty library deserves more than one shot at a first impression. Some libraries can't hope for better (God deliver me from ever seeing San Bernardino's horror house of a library again), but some certainly should. Maybe I was just having an off day.

The exterior of the building is very modern-handsome. I must again thank the Lordy Lord that the (semi)current architectural trend is toward 50s Gas Station Chic, with weird flairs that make sense to some but not all, catapulting the library somewhere into the mod-mysterious range of rotating styles and trends.

And FLAIR, it has, so much flair, many much flair. Stan would be proud. This library has a whole lot going on. It is aggressively interesting.

The Andover Public Library is a big fan of frosted glass, cool blues against burnt peach, Extrawhimsical Children's' Section Flairage, and curved half walls that can stop a person cold in her tracks, suddenly yanked back to a slightly more vapid time. But more on that in a minute.

The main circulation desk is breathtaking and cavernous, with trendy hanging lamps and bright colors offsetting the even more striking sight of the main library, which is, in a word, cavernous.

As I toured each section of the building, I became more and more excited to spend time there. The ambiance is upbeat, fun, and chill--it is exactly the sort of place you'd expect to be conducive to writing. Alas.

The Curved Wall. 

The Story Laboratory converts to a Tornado Shelter as needed!

 I found a perfect perch against the aforementioned curved half-wall and set up shop. I should confess that I'm a sucker for a curved wall. It's rather sad, but I'll carry that torch until the day I die, probably flung into a wave, tears salting the sea turned black by my bitterness because I never got a curved wall in my house. This is all the fault of my ex. We went to many, many open houses when searching for the right subdivision and home we wanted to build. Sometimes we would go to the higher end open houses for fun, but really it's just a means to a painful end, where you learn that maybe you're always going to pine for some bullshit THING that doesn't matter, never mattered, but dammit GIMME IT. It's like that sometimes. And once, in an outer-outer berg somewhere between Kansas City and Lawrence, we visited a terrible place that had every indulgent thing people with money to burn might want: huge bedrooms, all with private baths/Jacuzzis; huge entertainment room with bar that opened out to an elaborate, nearly forested back yard/enchanted land...and somewhere in that maze of space, dark wood, travertine, all things shining and new, there was a curved freaking wall. There was no reason for it, no rhyme. They just made it happen there. And it was smooth. And perfect. It changed me.

Flairy Flairage May Have Gone Too Flair

One step closer to demon! Oh well. Wanting things with empty calories leaves us forever starved, ay.

Note the pretty tiles against the orange painted walls--I'm not the only one who is reminded of the pool at the Y, right? Or the pool back in school? Everyone took swimming in high school gym, didn't they? Or were we the only lucky ones? I know we had to pass swimming in order to take canoeing, which was a rite of passage for any North High student since it was singular to our high school experience. Anyway, that was part of it, I'm sure. The "problem" with Andover. But that was just the start.

As I worked on photo editing, wrote, and researched (all things you can now do without cracking a book and from the seat of your ass, praise technology), I kept looking up, over, around. Behind me, up, down. You know that thing where you look off into the distance to think better? This environment was not conducive to that activity in particular. I took a picture to illustrate.

Aaaaaiiiiiggghhhh

It's so cool, right? All those angles, colors, lights, bars, joints, pipes, drop ceilings but only partial because FLAIR...it's all a bit shouty in the end, and I could not concentrate no matter what I did. It didn't help to be facing a busy-bright wall while people walked back and forth behind me, and ultimately I started feeling claustrophobic, which is a weird reaction to a place that is objectively huge and open.

In the end, I wrapped things up and fled for the hills, westward home. So, we'll try, try again, Andover, you frosted glass freaks. Bless your hearts! And your wild, unvarnished FLAIR.

[O Joyous Update: Of all area libraries, I've spent the lion's share of book-writing time at Andover, with Mulvane a second runner up. It turns out that Andover has these wonderful little study rooms at the back (near the "Story Laboratory") that are first come, first serve and have NO TIME RESTRICTIONS whatsoever. The times I've encountered the rooms already in use, I set up shop at the curved wall, put on headphones, and waited my turn. I have never had to wait longer than an hour to nab a room.

The rooms are perfect for quiet study and writing. There are no distractions, and people in adjacent rooms are more often than not engaged in quiet study, as well. The only time things got truly out of hand was when a big weather front rolled through, complete with heavy rain, thunder, and minor hail. When it first started, it sounded like floods of water were draining above me somewhere so I initially mistook it for a plumbing issue. Then the hail started. It was loud. I packed up my stuff to head out into the main library to see what was up. As soon as I opened the door: CACOPHONY. Epic, reverberating, bone shaking noise. Why so? Because the roof is metal and there is apparently no sound proofing of any kind in the main part of the library. It was LOUD.

It was a one-off, though. Most of the time, Andover is a haven for writing. I absolutely adore it. It does have one pervasive issue that persists to this day. Once I'm all the way back in the study room behind a shut door, it's barely noticeable, but near the front of the library and especially in the main foyer, it can get downright obnoxious: fumes. To me it smells most like jet engine fumes. Sometimes car fumes or paint fumes, but if I had to choose one, I'd say jet engine. While there are plane manufacturers between Andover and Wichita, they are not right next door. City Hall is right next door, and I wondered if municipal vehicles were left idling for some odd reason, but from what I can tell that is not the case. Nor is the parking close enough to create such a concentrated, noxious odor.

Worse yet? When I asked the circulation staff about it, they claimed not to notice it at all. I admit I'm a bit of a bloodhound, but if a smell has reached a choking and gagging level (which it sometimes does!) how on earth am I the only one who notices it????

Anyway! It's a non-problem for my current usage of the Andover Public Library. So, my overall rating has rocketed from Distracting Flair Monster to Oasis of Solitude Slightly Tinged with Engine Emissions.]

Entrance to the Children's section--it's even bigger in real life!