One frigid Midwestern winter night in 1988, a ginger kitten was shoved into the after-hours book-return slot at the public library in Spencer, Iowa. And in this tender story, Myron, the library director, tells of the impact the cat, named DeweyReadmore Books, had on the library and its patrons, and on Myron herself. Through her developing relationship with the feline, Myron recounts the economic and social history of Spencer as well as her own success story—despite an alcoholic husband, living on welfare, and health problems ranging from the difficult birth of her daughter, Jodi, to breast cancer. After her divorce, Myron graduated college (the first in her family) and stumbled into a library job. She quickly rose to become director, realizing early on that this was a job I could love for the rest of my life. Dewey, meanwhile, brings disabled children out of their shells, invites businessmen to pet him with one hand while holding the Wall Street Journal with the other, eats rubber bands and becomes a media darling. The book is not only a tribute to a cat—anthropomorphized to a degree that can strain credulity (Dewey plays hide and seek with Myron, can read her thoughts, is mortified by his hair balls)—it's a love letter to libraries. (Sept.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Her first thought upon hearing a strange sound coming from the book drop one frigid January morning was "this can't be good." In fact, for both the tiny kitten found shivering in the metal box's corner and for Myron, director of the Spencer Public Library, the discovery was the best thing that ever happened to either of them, and to the tiny Iowa farming community beset by an unrelenting string of economic challenges. Filthy and frostbitten, the kitten was in dire need of massive doses of TLC; fortunately, the library staff, patrons, and townspeople had plenty to spare. The story of how a bedraggled orange fur ball became "Dewey Readmore Books," an enchantingly irresistible library mascot capable of bringing international attention to a small midwestern town and melting the heart of even the most curmudgeonly visitor, is uplifting enough; but woven among the cute-cat anecdotes are Myron's own inspirational stories of enduring welfare, the abuses of an alcoholic husband, breast cancer, and single motherhood. Myron's beguiling, poignant, and tender tale of survival, loyalty, and love is an unforgettable study in the mysterious and wondrous ways animals, and libraries, enrich humanity. --Booklist--Starred Review, August 1, 2008
An abandoned kitten serves as balm, comic relief and social director to a hard-pressed Midwestern town.
The feline came in through the book drop on a bone-crackingly cold winter's night. The place was the public library of Spencer, Iowa, where the corn grows nine feet high and the earth is so fertile "you would swear the ground is about to push up and tip the sky right out of the picture." But this was in the 1980s, when the farm crisis was in full tilt; lenders had foreclosed on 50 percent of the family farms in northwest Iowa by the end of the decade. Local librarian Myron paints a town in crisis: economically, socially and in terms of the human spirit. She was in crisis too and neatly tucks her own recovery into the larger story of the town's gradual rejuvenation. Named Dewey (after the decimal system), the kitten became the library mascot and a synecdoche: "He never lost his trust, no matter what the circumstances, or his appreciation for life...He was confident." Myron doesn't overplay this metaphor, but works it subtly as she depicts the town's fortunes reviving and shows Dewey playing his role in that revival with composure, social skills, patience and a measure of mischief. In an easeful voice and with an eye for detail, she delineates Spencer: its economic swings, the lay of the land, the Prairie Deco downtown. Dewey is the pivot; he even became a bit of a national celebrity, and the New York Times ran his obit. He was, this loving account demonstrates, the right cat in the right place for Spencer and most certainly for its librarian.
Intimate portrait of a place snugly set within its historical moment, preserved in Myron's understated, well-polished prose.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
*Starred Review* Her first thought upon hearing a strange sound coming from the book drop one frigid January morning was “this can’t be good.” In fact, for both the tiny kitten found shivering in the metal box’s corner and for Myron, director of the Spencer Public Library, the discovery was the best thing that ever happened to either of them, and to the tiny Iowa farming community beset by an unrelenting string of economic challenges. Filthy and frostbitten, the kitten was in dire need of massive doses of TLC; fortunately, the library staff, patrons, and townspeople had plenty to spare. The story of how a bedraggled orange fur ball became “Dewey Readmore Books,” an enchantingly irresistible library mascot capable of bringing international attention to a small midwestern town and melting the heart of even the most curmudgeonly visitor, is uplifting enough; but woven among the cute-cat anecdotes are Myron’s own inspirational stories of enduring welfare, the abuses of an alcoholic husband, breast cancer, and single motherhood. Myron’s beguiling, poignant, and tender tale of survival, loyalty, and love is an unforgettable study in the mysterious and wondrous ways animals, and libraries, enrich humanity. --Carol Haggas
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
About the Author
Vicky Myron grew up on a family farm in northwest Iowa. She began as an assistant librarian at the Spencer library. Within a few years, she was promoted to director of the library. As a single mother, Vicky worked towards a masters degree for librarians during weekends and nights. It was then that she met Dewey, who made his home at the library and kept her company late nights while she studied. Vicky has served on the Executive Board of the Iowa Library Association, and on numerous statewide advisory panels. She is one of six library management instructors in the Iowa library system.
Bret Witter has ghostwritten nine books. Before becoming a professional writer, Bret spent three years as the Editorial Director of HCI, the publisher of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. Bret lives in Louisville, Kentucky.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From School Library Journal
Grade 4–8—Myron's best seller about the resident cat at the Spencer Public Library in Iowa has been adapted for middle grade readers. The references to most of the author's personal problems, which peppered her adult book, have been removed, and Dewey's story stands on its own. The anecdotes remain the same, with some concessions made to the experiences of younger readers: explaining, for instance, who Alf and Spuds McKenzie were, or pointing out that "back in the day" TV cartoons were only seen on Saturday mornings. Dewey's special brand of "pay-it-forward" love has immense appeal, and fans of animal stories will immediately gravitate toward the book, with its handsome reproduction of the feline's now-famous portrait on the cover. As Myron's anecdotes show, the joy and comfort that Dewey provided to countless patrons over 18 years was not something that could be cataloged, or indexed, or highlighted in a trustee's report. But it was real and evident to the staff and library regulars. Dewey will no doubt have young readers pining for their own library cats, but astute readers will also pick up on the message that a town's heart beats strongest in its library.—Kara Schaff Dean, Walpole Public Library, MA
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Review
An abandoned kitten serves as balm, comic relief and social director to a hard-pressed Midwestern town.
The feline came in through the book drop on a bone-crackingly cold winter's night. The place was the public library of Spencer, Iowa, where the corn grows nine feet high and the earth is so fertile "you would swear the ground is about to push up and tip the sky right out of the picture." But this was in the 1980s, when the farm crisis was in full tilt; lenders had foreclosed on 50 percent of the family farms in northwest Iowa by the end of the decade. Local librarian Myron paints a town in crisis: economically, socially and in terms of the human spirit. She was in crisis too and neatly tucks her own recovery into the larger story of the town's gradual rejuvenation. Named Dewey (after the decimal system), the kitten became the library mascot and a synecdoche: "He never lost his trust, no matter what the circumstances, or his appreciation for life...He was confident." Myron doesn't overplay this metaphor, but works it subtly as she depicts the town's fortunes reviving and shows Dewey playing his role in that revival with composure, social skills, patience and a measure of mischief. In an easeful voice and with an eye for detail, she delineates Spencer: its economic swings, the lay of the land, the Prairie Deco downtown. Dewey is the pivot; he even became a bit of a national celebrity, and the New York Times ran his obit. He was, this loving account demonstrates, the right cat in the right place for Spencer and most certainly for its librarian.
Intimate portrait of a place snugly set within its historical moment, preserved in Myron's understated, well-polished prose.
--This text refers to the hardcover edition.
![Dewey the Library Cat: A True Story by [Vicki Myron, Bret Witter]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/512Ev3JcsnL._SY346_.jpg)
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