I will try not to gush in this post. But I’m not sure I’ll manage it.
Last week, I posted about the Tacoma Mother’s Tree–a tree from the era of the middle grade novel I’m writing that I found online in my searches about Wright Park.
I posted that I could not find it after marching around and looking like an oddball at the park. My first librarian friend suggested I contact the Northwest Room of the Tacoma Public Library, a place stuffed full of history and staffed by research librarians. It’s even located in a domed building originally funded by Andrew Carnegie.
The internet made it so I didn’t have an excuse to go there–which is just as well because I’m not sure when I would have carved out the time between track meets, band practice, and piano lessons this week. (Writing that makes me think I need to cut back to find more time for libraries!)
I did have time for a quick email and then yesterday, while waiting for that piano lesson to finish, I read the response from the Northwest Room librarian. She could not find my tree.
But not for lack of trying.
She had called the parks department who posted the picture, walked around the rainy park on her lunch break, and then asked the Seymour Conservatory folks for help too.
Meanwhile, my other librarian friend found an obscure website with some sort of treasure hunt that lit up the location of my tree.
And today, the intrepid public librarian sent me photos, telling me the park superintendant had shown it to the conservatory workers and also how much she enjoyed the hunt.
These people are amazing. And I love them. Finding people who care about my projects makes writing possible. More than that. These superwomen make my work ever so much more fun because they put so much of themselves into the search. (Yes, that was a gush. I couldn’t help it.)