Little Library DIY

We made our own little library! Our little library is not only an accomplishment of a yearslong fantasy, it is also a constant source of joy when people stop by and a great excuse to buy books. I did most of the planning and designing, with construction and style guidance from my parents and my partner Cory and our friend and housemate and generous feudal lady PJ, and fixing from Cory, an actual mechanical engineer, when things broke. I think PJ wanted to buy a professionally built little library, at least at first, but I wanted to do something ill-advised, amateurish, in retrospect possibly manic, and from the soul and also to use a dremel for the first time in ten years.

Our little library is painted black and the books have a sometimes spooky tint, because we live in a not-yet-painted-black house that may or may not have its own soul (and if it does have its own soul, or a visiting soul (other than our visiting souls, of course), it is absolutely a spooky one) across the street from a graveyard in Salem—which of course means that most of our neighbors and subsequently most of the visitors to our little library have died. Spooky books are often also joyful books, and hopeful books—but sometimes just spooky.

This is a blog post about how we made the library/libraries. Spoiler alert, it ends up looking like this:


This blog post includes links with my Amazon referral code. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. If you click a link and buy something, I get about 4% of the price as commission. You don’t have to buy these things from Amazon—actually, you don’t have to buy these things at all. You can also support me by buying merch of my art, by buying me a campground store decaf coffee, or by simply reading and enjoying. Thank you!



Ingredients

Here’s everything I bought to make the library:

  • A reasonably-sized waterproof bathroom cabinet, to serve as the larger library—we painted it black, but this one was originally white, which already looked very nice as a potential library
  • A narrow waterproof bathroom cabinet, to serve as the small library—this one is dark brown, since it was closest to the intended black, but it also comes in white
  • A five-pack of 8×10″ plexiglass, to serve as the windows
  • Durable, waterproof plastic file folders, to serve as the roofs—in black since our library is black, but you can get colorful ones instead
  • Mounting tape, to attach the windows and the roof
  • Black outdoor paint, to paint the cabinets our preferred color, which was black—but you can choose a different color, or you can choose to not paint your libraries at all
  • Barrels to plant your libraries in—I bought these fancy wooden bucket barrels (18 inch, 15 inch, and 11.5 inch diameter, one for each library and the smallest destined for flowers). I like them a lot because the real wood and its smell and its texture and the metal handles were important to me because smells and textures are important to me in general, but they are expensive; cheaper, perfectly acceptable, possibly more durable plastic bucket barrels exist, and different sizes and shapes and quantities of the wooden ones—this is the fun part; you could even get this weird wishing well planter I’ve been trying to find some excuse to buy (but I have nothing in particular I want to do with it and nowhere in particular I want to put it) and stick a library in it, which is what I would probably try to do if we decided to add a third library

And here are things we already had that we also used:

  • A dremel, to cut out interestingly shaped window-holes
  • A sturdy pocketknife, to cut the plexiglass to fit the window-holes
  • Variously sized small pieces of scrapwood, to attach the roofs to and to make lock-type turning mechanisms so the doors don’t blow away
  • A drill and drill bits and screws, to attach the roofs so they don’t blow away and to attach the lock-type turning mechanisms
  • Lots and lots of rocks
  • Dirt
  • Flowers
  • A very strong glue to fix things when they break, like JB-Weld or Gorilla glue

And some things I bought to put in the library once we built it:


Methods

Here’s how we built the library.

First, I assembled the smaller of the two shelves. (In retrospect, I should have waited until after dremeling the doors, but it worked out fine.)

The shelf fit nicely in its intended bucket, as intended, with some books in it.

I dremeled windows into the doors of both the small shelf, which was easy because I just sliced the spaces between the horizontal gaps, and the larger shelf, which was more challenging. I tried to make the windows large enough that you could see in and see the books. I considered adding more windows to the other sides of the shelves, which you could if you wanted to, but we decided on just the doors.

(Does what I’m doing make you slightly uncomfortable? It probably should. I have no training in this except Science Olympiad in high school.)

I also reoriented the doors of the larger shelf to open in opposite directions because that is more interesting.

Here is how the larger shelf looks, dremeled and assembled:

I like how the large shelf looks as a white shelf, and white might be a good fit for a different project, but we had a whole vibe planned so it had to be painted black. I think it turned out nice and dramatic.

I measured and cut as large rectangles of plexiglass as would fit across each of the doors of the small shelf, covering the windows I had dremeled in (and which had partly already existed before my dremeling). I attached the plexiglass to the doors using mounting tape, which apparently is used for cars so it is probably good enough for this purpose as well.

I cut small straps off a skirt belt I didn’t like and curled them into door handles for the larger shelf, and attached them using mounting tape as well.

Then I cut and attached the plexiglass windows on the doors of the larger shelf—big rectangles covering both the big window holes and the little door handle holes.

Here’s how they turned out, with books inside:

To make a roof, I decided to use file folders, supported by wooden blocks that had been used to deliver furniture. Here is what that brainstorming looked like.

I painted the wooden blocks black and used mounting tape to attach them to the libraries.

I wanted the roofs to be waterproof, and black, so I ordered black plastic file folders and used them as roofs, attached also with mounting tape. Cory told me that when he was improving on this idea later he mentioned my use of plastic file folders as roofs to a coworker, who said that non-engineers sometimes come up with creative ideas to engineering challenges that a person boxed in by an engineering education might not have come up with. A very kind compliment.

They turned out quite nice, I think. Very witchy and spooky.

Here they are in their buckets, outside. We reserved the bottom part of each shelf to fill with rocks so that the libraries would be heavy and more or less sturdy. The shelf comprising the smaller library is actually upside down—the now-bottom shelf used to be the top shelf, intended to store toilet paper.

We bought flowers to plant in the buckets alongside and around the libraries:

Here is Cory planting the flowers. We planted the flowers on the sides and filled the rest of the space in the buckets with dirt. The smaller of the shelves is entirely dedicated to a flower we saw a lot of bees on, which seemed like a very good sign.

Here is how they turned out, after sunset and full of books. Very spooky and cozy:

We bought a ton of books to fit in the libraries. Here are some of the books we bought:

We dedicated the hall window overlooking the libraries to the books we plan to add to the libraries. Here they are at various moments. We ended up moving them from the windowsill to a dedicated shelf under it because there got to be too many.

PJ officially registered our libraries. Here are the fancy materials they sent us, including a little plaque:

Here are the libraries with their plaque. PJ also got a gorgeous flag and a wooden sign and little reading owls sculptures.


Here’s where dreams meet reality, and it gets a little sad—but happy and better afterward. Around Halloween we had a very bad windstorm and everything that could blow away did. The library flag blew away and we found it somewhere down the street. The roof folders blew away and we did not find them. The skeleton hand you can see in the mulch also blew away and we found it later near the graveyard (maybe it was trying to return home). The fence came down, thankfully missing the libaries.

There were two problems we kept running into: one was wind and the other was rain. The roofs kept blowing away, and mounting tape was just not doing the trick. And the doors kept blowing open, letting in rain and getting the books soaked. Twice a door was blown open hard enough that it broke off.

Cory is an actual engineer. He made nice wooden door locks to keep the doors from blowing open and drilled them into the libraries.

Cory also fixed the broken door with superglue.

Finally, Cory added additional wooden supports for the roofs, and drilled screws through the roofs into the supports. No more flying away.

I’m very grateful to Cory for supplementing my—um—creativity with thoughtful and weather-aware actual engineering. Here’s how the libraries turned out, with their improvements:

And here they are now:


Little Libraries of Centre County

The past two weeks I was home in Pennsylvania for the first time in two, maybe even three years. All the trees I remember got taller. Even our houseplants got taller.

Last time I was home I don’t remember seeing many little libraries; I don’t remember seeing more than one. Since then they seem to have cropped up like mushrooms (or mushrooms/suburban housing developments/suburban housing developments made of mushrooms)—all shaped like little houses, all clearly created and curated with care and love, all unique. The libraries I visited multiple times had different books each day—and the books themselves seem to be very thoughtful collections.

There are, of course, many more little libraries I did not see than there are little libraries I did see. And some of the ones I did see were not on any map—which means there could be surprise libraries on any street we could step into on a meandering walk like those we had together in the evenings this June, and even making a thorough scavenger hunt of it would not guarantee I found them all. Some kind of commentary, perhaps, on more generally living life as a whimsical adventure.

Here are the little libraries I got to visit.


A little library in the Arboretum. The Arboretum was just starting out when I started college and has now blossomed. We had class field trips to the Arboretum in my writing classes during my year at Penn State. This little library is the one and only little library I remember seeing on a past visit:


A little library on a walk near our neighborhood. This library has adorable decorations inside: little hanging pictures, including of cows in a field, which is a not-uncommon view here. The book selection changed from day to day, and on one day, a sticker collection appeared:


A little library in the park where I and my friends used to play hide-and-seek tag after dark, and past which I used to bike on my way to school in the mornings, past little lakes of mist settled in the little valleys between the tiny hills in the park:

I picked up my next book to read at this library, and a book heart sticker at the library before it. The book heart sticker is now on the first page of my todo list notebook:

I picked up Gameboard of the Gods by Richelle Mead, which I am now reading alongside Small Gods by Terry Pratchett. Because circumstances necessitated comfort reading I took a break from Small Gods to reread Bridget Jones’s Diary and Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (Bridget Jones’s Diary volume 2) by Helen Fielding, which are two of my favorite books. But now I am on from novelized late-90s feminism/Pride and Prejudice retelling to fictionalized polytheism. Along the same path I am also listening to Old Gods of Appalachia, which is spooky and excellent (“…an eldritch horror fiction podcast set in an Alternate Appalachia, a world where these mountains were never meant to be inhabited. This world feels eerily similar to the hills and hollers we’ve grown up with, but there are some tell-tale differences. Names of towns and counties may be altered. Historical events slide forward or backward in time. And then, of course, there are the monsters…”).


Note that the above includes links with my Amazon referral code. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. If you click a link and buy something, I get about 4% of the price as commission. You don’t have to buy these things from Amazon—actually, you don’t have to buy these things at all. You can also support me by buying merch of my art, by buying me a campground store decaf coffee, or by simply reading and enjoying. Thank you!



A little library on the drive to a friend’s house (I nearly dove out of the car to get a better look and take a photo). This one has a gnome and little red mushrooms, and I really like the trellis up the side of the house. It feels like maybe the gnome lives in this house, and it is his personal library that we are disturbing; very kind of him to invite us in:


And another little library in that same neighborhood, right along a bike path. This neighborhood is very modern, with unique and unusual homes, some built into hillsides; this library matches them nicely:


A little library near our high school, on the walk we used to take home from school:

This library is in a park I used to bike past multiple times a week, depending on the path I took to school or home from school, and yet I never particularly noticed—and the park is huge! and gorgeous.

You might notice that by the time we got to this little library, it was sunset. The walk home gave us these gorgeous spooky-peaceful Pennsylvania views:


Another little library near the school, on the same walk, a few blocks out of the way, in a beautiful neighborhood I’d never walked through before—this library is more of a castle, with stepping stones, a little garden with labelled plants, and flowers painted into the inside walls:


A surprise little library we stumbled on, also on that walk. This little library has a cozy reading chair inside, and a door nicely sized for a creature who might use that chair. Very cute, and very sturdily and creatively constructed, with a gorgeous and modern glass ceiling and glass walls and therefore plenty of sunlight for the cozy creature(s) to read by:

There is a convenient door at the base of the library, which means there might be an exceptionally tall spiral staircase up to the reading nook.

We came back a few days later and the Pride flags had moved up:


A little library on another walk, on the way to go see a new housing development that was just being planned (and protested against) when I was last home. Years ago, the new housing developments were all very strange: some of the roads had been made, but not all of them, and none of the buildings, but the busses were already running, circling around nowhere, picking up no one. Now this one is a bizarre modern village with lights in the windows and people living their lives and a steep drop into the hills.

This little library is a ways away from the new neighborhood, but it was on our winding walk there. It has a cat in a window:

This walk gave us these gorgeous spooky-peaceful Pennsylvania views:


A little library by an elementary school. My dad thought there might be a library there and stealthily led us to it on a walk, and indeed there was a library there; a very happy surprise. The color and in particular the roof are very elegant and cute:


A little library we intentionally walked to, but were startled to find empty. It is by a football stadium near campus; the semester is over and the football stadium is empty, so maybe that is why the little library is empty. It also has a little free necessity box next to it:


A little library in Shaver’s Creek, next to the environmental center, surrounded by forest. This little library is next to a very pretty little artificial pond with a bench next to it. We saw a turtle swimming in the pond and we saw two frogs:

Here is what Shaver’s Creek looks like—the world surrounding this particular library:


Finally, a little library my brother’s friend Maya sent to my brother Max and my brother Max sent to me when I was on my way back to Massachusetts. I love its long shape and asymmetrical roof:

The plane ride back to Massachusetts was the most beautiful and the most bittersweet of recent memory. Here are my views on the way home:


“Don’t disturb them… They are gestating.”

I have always loved Easter egg hunts. This weekend, which was special because it was Passover and American Easter here and my mom’s birthday far away and it was warm and flowers were starting to come up and children were walking around with their baskets, Cory and I played Easter bunny and hid a ton of eggs around Salem and Peabody and Somerville and Cambridge. The idea was very last minute, and I ordered everything very last minute, and it all happened very last minute, which was perfect. We hid the eggs mostly in little libraries. Each egg got five stickers, two glow-in-the-dark stars, and one or two rabbits. I’m delighted by how they turned out.

Here is documentation of the egg stuffing process.

“Don’t disturb them… They are gestating.”

We ended up with 100 brightly colored eggs.

We of course started out leaving a few eggs in our own little library.

Then we went on a lovely walk and left eggs in little libraries around Salem and Peabody.

There were a few whimsical non-library places where we left eggs, that we had long fantasized about using as hiding spots for something whimsical. Here is a subset of them. Maybe you recognize these places. Maybe you will find the rest.

At this point we were going to visit a friend and still had eggs, so we left more eggs in little libraries in our old neighborhood in Cambridge and Somerville, which was a cozy and special experience as returning home always is. We were driving, and I was hopping out with my box of eggs while Cory waited in the get-away car. Very clandestine and exciting.

This Cambridge library is my favorite and very special to us because it is at the end of our old street. We visited it near-daily for six years. You have to carefully scoot a flower to open the bottom door.

If any eggs are still around, I hope you find them. Happy hunting.


Things you can buy:


As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. This blog post includes links with my Amazon referral code. If you click one and buy something, I get about 4% of the price as commission. You don’t have to buy these things from Amazon—actually, you don’t have to buy these things at all. You can also support me by buying merch of my art, by buying me a campground store decaf coffee, or by simply reading and enjoying. Thank you!


Here’s everything gestating, and the eggs themselves:

I also bought a rainbow scratch art kit, because I loved rainbow scratch art kits when I was small, and divided it up into six smaller rainbow scratch art kits, each in its own little envelope, and left them in some of the little libraries as well.

Finally, if you are looking for exciting or cozy books to read or donate to your local little libraries, check out my very favorite books.