It was a common scenario in the bookroom circa 1998: self-published or indie authors would call my line (I was then the assistant in charge of sorting galleys) looking for advice on making their books known. Often, said books had already been published and so were too late to be submitted to LJ. “What are my alternatives?” they’d inquire desperately. My eager response was, “Stage a reading at your local library!”

As I learned from a recent thread on Publib, however, librarians don’t seem so hot on this idea. Unless the author has a media profile, is backed by a reputable publisher, or has a ready-made audience owing to the local popularity of the book’s subject, they’d rather pass. Chances are, people would not turn up to see a writer without those credentials, and as Tom Cooper of the Webster Groves (MO) P.L. wrote, “[T]here’s nothing worse than working hard on an event that flops.”

Libraries, the message seems to be, want to compete with Barnes & Noble and Ye Olde Slam Poetry Bar down the street. They want in on popular culture—not at all an earth-shattering revelation for me, but it makes me feel for the nobodies who may have a worthy work on their hands. If they can’t find a forum for engaging in person-to-person contact at the library, where can they?

The obvious answer is MySpace and personal websites, but so many people are clamoring for attention now that it’s a miracle to capture and hold an audience. It’s been said that best sellers originate in libraries—a patron stumbles on a book, falls in love, and spreads word—but my feeling is that, increasingly, time-pressed readers are taking their leads from TV book clubs, radio shows, and off-the-cuff comments by established writers or actors and actresses.

The cult of celebrity has infiltrated American reading habits so much, in fact, that decided nonwriters like celebutant Nicole Ritchie (The Truth About Diamonds, now in paperback) and former model Paulina Porizkova (A Model Summer is due in April from Hyperion) can publish novels. I confess that I haven’t even cracked the galley of Porizkova’s book, but my point still stands: having a marquee name seems like more of a requirement for a book contract than being able to construct an artful sentence.

I know, I know. My gripes are older than Grandpa Simpson, but I dare argue that the celebritization of publishing has only gotten worse since I entered the fold nine years ago. Although Judith Regan’s getting the ax is encouraging, we’ve still got a long way to go toward putting democracy back in publishing. And libraries can help by mulling over a genius suggestion by Linda Ballard of the University City (MO) P.L.: “Have any of you experimented with having an evening or weekend afternoon ‘Local Authors’ Day,’ where these authors could come, perhaps speak for a few minutes apiece, and peddle their wares?”