The first time I saw Alanis Morissette, she was playing the part of God in the movie, "Dogma." I liked her face. It had complexity and depth.

The first time I got around to listening to her music was when someone complained about her use of two 4-letter words in her 1995, Grammy-winning release, "Jagged Little Pill."

The patron lodging the complaint had a pretty compelling story. She had been driving along the highway, listening to a library CD with her young children, when she suddenly heard a word that made her lurch for the eject button.

Some 15 years ago I did a workshop on creative writing. It was at a private school, grades K-12.

I started all the sessions with a simple question: who remembers what they dreamt last night? In the kindergarten class, every hand went up. Of course, not every child really did remember his or her dreams. But they all remembered something ABOUT their dreams and were eager to share it.

I think I've worked about every side of this now. I have worked FOR a Board in three capacities: as the Chief Executive Officer (a library director hired by, reporting to, and accountable solely to the Board), as the staff member working for the CEO (but presenting information to the Board), and as an independent contractor or consultant.

I have worked ON a Board as a member (sometimes with few responsibilities, sometimes as a committee member or chair), as an executive officer (Secretary, for instance), and as Board President.

About once a week, lately, I get letters (and sometimes phone calls and visits) from library headhunters.

More commonly called "corporate search firms," these are companies employed by fairly large libraries to fill the top job. Some headhunters work a variety of professions. Some just do libraries.

At first, I freely admit that I was flattered by the attention. Who wouldn't be? Headhunters tend to be very complimentary. They've heard good things about you, they say, or were impressed by a talk or an article you did.