Have you ever scored a great book at a little library? I once did. Deep into a months-long wait for Crying in H-Mart at the public library, I came across a copy at my neighborhood little library. My find wasn’t entirely perfect—the text was in large print—but it was better than waiting another two months. More often though, when I peek into a little library, I’m amazed by how bizarre the collection seems. Dated parenting guides, splashy crime thrillers, and fantastical YA novels abound, not to mention an ever present (but unwanted) copy of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I always find myself wondering, what kind of selection is this, exactly?

So when I heard about a library cataloguing app from my friend Emilia, I got an idea. Perhaps, by using this app, I could take a more rigorous and unified look at the collection of books held in Somerville little libraries. After consulting a map of local little libraries, I hit the streets. At each little library, I scanned all the books into the Libib app using their barcodes, if present. Once scanned, I was able to get the ISBN of each book, which I then used to query the Google Books and Open Library APIs to create a complete dataset with details on each book's publishing date, length, genre, and more.

Right away, I noticed a big difference in how well-stocked each library was. Out of the 17 libraries I visited, I found the largest assortment of titles in a sturdy green library on Willoughby St, which held an impressive 21 books. Some, like a slogan-covered library on Norfolk St with a sparse collection of 3 books, were disappointing in their size. Most, however, offered a decent browsing selection. With the median little library holding about 10 books, I found most libraries worthy of a brief look.

What did these collections contain? I wasn’t sure if there were actually that many parenting guides, or if I was just projecting my insecurities around close friends beginning to start families. Turns out, my perception wasn’t entirely unfounded as the Family & Relationships category came in as the seventh most common genre. While fiction was overwhelmingly the most prevalent category, I was surprised to see how popular the Juvenile and Young Adult genres were, which, when combined together, accounted for 32 books.

I guessed that the number of Juvenile and YA books was perhaps due to some of the little libraries’ proximity to the local high school, but when I looked into the data, the four libraries near the high school only accounted for seven Juvenile and YA books. Turns out, the prevalence of this genre is widespread across Somerville and Cambridge.

When were most books published? I expected the collection in little libraries to trend older, since I assumed donors would be more willing to part with books they’ve had for a few years. Upon inspection, the most common publishing decade for books was 2010, with the vast majority of books being published from 1990 onwards. The lack of barcodes on older books likely contributed to this recency bias. Barcodes weren’t adopted by publishers until the mid-80s, and even then, they faced resistance from designers, who thought the codes marred their compositions, and idealistic publishers, who thought barcodes’ commercial association corrupted books’ purity.

Being published before widespread adoption wasn’t the only reason books lacked barcodes. Some paperbacks were simply too faded, while hardcover books in little libraries were often missing their jackets (and therefore their barcodes too). At an eclectically decorated little library (and yard) on Spring Hill Terrace, I came across several newly-published books which lacked barcodes. On further inspection, these books were all advance reader copies, likely donated by a bookseller, reviewer, or librarian.

The longest book I catalogued was The Bedford Handbook, an 849-page tome about the mechanics of the English language. At the other end of the scale were two alliterative children’s books—Sammy Spider's First Mitzvah and Sunny the Sneaker—each just 24 pages long. The most common length was right around 300 pages.

During my 17 little library visits, I did manage to find a book I wanted to read: A Room with a View by E.M. Forster—a classic I’ve had on my list for a few years now. Unfortunately, it was too tattered to have a readable barcode, so, like twenty or so other books I came across, it wasn’t included in my dataset.

Of course, I felt compelled to leave a book in turn. If you’d like a copy of Either/Or by Elif Batuman, you can find it at the Norfolk St little library—I thought it was best to prop up the smallest collection. Alternatively, you can peruse the full collection I catalogued and see if there's anything that catches your interest. Happy browsing!