There’s a thing librarians get taught early called the reference interview, and it’s less complicated than it sounds. Someone comes up and says they want a book, and instead of just handing them the first thing that matches the keyword, you ask a few more questions. What did you read recently that you liked. Who’s it for, actually, you or your kid. Do you want something fast or something you can sit with for a while. Half the time the book someone asks for by name isn’t actually the book that’s going to work for them, and the real job is figuring out what they mean underneath what they said.

I noticed a few months back that I do the exact same interview when a coworker corners me at the circulation desk to ask what game to get her nephew for his birthday. Who’s it for, actually, was my first question, same as always, because “a board game” covers everything from Candyland to Brass Birmingham and those are not the same gift. Then, how many people usually play, because a game that’s brilliant at four and lifeless at two is a bad recommendation for someone whose household is two adults and one kid. Then, and this is the one people never think to answer honestly, how much patience does whoever’s opening this gift have for reading a rulebook, because I have watched a genuinely great game die in a closet because nobody wanted to be the one who read the instructions out loud.

It’s the same underlying skill dressed up in different vocabulary, matching a thing to a person instead of matching a person to whatever’s popular right now, and I think it’s the actual reason I’ve ended up being the person my whole social circle asks for both book and game recommendations, not because I’ve read or played more than anyone else I know, though I probably have, but because I ask the follow-up questions instead of just answering the one I was asked.

The place this breaks down is when someone wants me to just tell them the best book or the best game, full stop, no context, because there isn’t one, there’s only the best one for the specific person standing in front of me, and that’s a harder answer to give than people expect when they ask. I’ve stopped apologizing for the follow-up questions though. They’re the whole job, whichever desk I’m doing it from.