Where Stories Begin: A Conversation at the Library
Andrea and I met at the local library in Herne, a place that already feels like a quiet home to book lovers. She had been reading to children here and in kindergartens for over 15 years, voluntarily. It all started with a simple idea: what if adults could read to children who might not get that at home? What if stories could build a bridge between generations?
The idea took off. Adults signed up, children came back for more, and the library became more than a place for books. It became a space for listening, for bonding, for learning. When I ask Andrea about how it all started, her eyes light up. For twenty minutes straight, she speaks with infectious joy about her love for stories, her passion for reading aloud, and how every book opens a new window: into life, language, and imagination.
We share memories. Hanni und Nanni (St. Clare’s) by Enid Blyton is a favorite from both our childhood shelves. We talk about how stories shape who we become. Books, she says, teach empathy. They help us understand people who are not like us.
Books as a Bridge Between Generations
Our conversation gets briefly interrupted by a young photographer, there to take her portrait. I’ve met a few photographers during interviews now, and each one brings a different energy. This one listens in. He smiles as she talks, nodding at parts, and later takes his time to get thoughtful, gentle shots among the library shelves. It makes me happy, seeing someone else be present, not just snapping pictures, but really capturing her spirit.
When he leaves, we continue. I run out of questions, not out of interest, but because it’s already afternoon, and I’m tired and hungry. Then, something shifts. Andrea starts asking me questions. What books do I read? What authors do I love? I mention Daniel Silva’s spy thrillers, Roxie Nafousi’s non-fiction about manifestation and confidence. We drift into talking about travel, another shared love.
She’s planning a trip to Albania and is already reading about it. That’s Andrea’s tradition: before every trip, she reads books set in the place she’s visiting. Fiction and non-fiction. She wants to get a feeling for the place before she sets foot there.
We exchange travel stories. Andrea tells me about Namibia and New Zealand, about spontaneous trips, solo travels in her youth. No guided tours. Just the road, the sky, and the next destination. I tell her about my tradition of traveling to a new place for my birthday each year, often alone. And just like that, an interview turns into a conversation between two curious souls who love books, wandering, and the stories people carry.
The Magic of Face-to-Face Encounters
The interview ends up being the longest one yet, over two hours. We stop the recording, but we don’t stop talking. Andrea promises to tell me about Albania when she returns. She laughs when she asks, “Are you going to include this part in your article too?” It was supposed to be about her project, her work with children. But now I want to write a whole prequel just about her.
When I leave to catch my train, Andrea says: “This was lovely. I really enjoyed our conversation. Let’s stay in touch.”
And I know I will.
These are the moments I live for. The honest ones. The unexpected ones. The ones that remind me why I love doing interviews in person, because people don’t just give you quotes. They give you glimpses of their lives, their hopes, their fears, and everything in between.
Maybe the best interviews don’t feel like interviews at all. Maybe they feel like bumping into someone you were always meant to talk to, about books, travel, life. Maybe that’s when the real stories start.
Photo: Mikhail Nilov via Pexels