698 College & Research Libraries July 2022 Judith Merril, Louise Lawrence, Larry Townsend. Other writers included are connected to others in the networks of science fiction history. Luminaries like Octavia E. Butler had an early short story purchased by Harlan Ellison for an as-yet unpublished Dangerous Visions volume. The book’s chapters also offer insight into the changing publishing industry, and to economic and political systems that determined whose stories got published. The authors address how science fiction sought not only legitimization as literature but also transformed into a commercialized multimedia industry. Many of the science fiction writers included in this collection did not have the privilege to write literary fiction and wrote for publishers who wanted work that could easily sell. The growth of the paperback novel medium was central to the history of popular culture. Some of these science fiction writers wrote using pseudonyms, not necessarily to cover their gender, but also to conceal their real-life identities or workplaces that might look askance at association with science fiction and its fan cultures. However, this did not stop science fiction and pulp writers from using their work as a vehicle for other ambitions: aesthetic, experimental, and political. The editorial approach is archival, with choices guided more by contributor interest than editorial design. This allows for some conspicuous and disappointing omissions. For example, the chapter on Samuel Delany covers Heavenly Breakfast, a memoir about living in a New York City commune in 1967–1968 that provides an excellent thesis about how these experiences are reflected in his science fiction. That said, there is little here that con- siders the breadth of Delany’s work in the decades covered by this book. The omission of a fuller discussion of writers gestured to, such as Joanna Russ, or themes like Buddhism and science fiction, is disappointing. Connecting threads with more contemporary science fiction writers and with genres like cyberpunk, Afrofuturism, and queer science fiction would also make the work a stronger contribution for general collections. The reader hoped for an account of Theodore Sturgeon’s groundbreaking 1953 short story about aliens and homophobia, “The World Well Lost,” and Sturgeon’s subsequent blacklisting by some science fiction publishers. However, in keeping with the archival approach, the book offers encounters both unique and unexpected—material that one did not expect to find. Nearly every chapter/essay in- cludes an array of color book covers for books whose writers are not necessarily discussed at length in the text. These images may lead researchers down new and fascinating rabbit holes. Following their earlier work, Nette and McIntyre also position the changes in science fiction content in relation to the changes in the publishing industry. The chapter on a publisher of science fiction/pornographic paperbacks, “Speculative Fuckbooks: The Brief Life of Essex House, 1968–1969,” by librarian Rebecca Baumann, is a particularly valuable contribution. Dangerous Visions and New Worlds provides far more than the introductory summaries one might find in reference sources like Wikipedia. Careful attention is paid to lesser-known writers, such as Jean Marie Stine and Alice Louise Ramirez, and its inclusion of them as science fiction pioneers is valuable, necessary work. This work is also more suited for general reading rather than scholarly research (bibliographic references or footnotes not included), although the analy- sis provided is certainly of that caliber.—Ann Matsuuchi, LaGuardia Community College, CUNY Erin A. Cech. The Trouble with Passion: How Searching for Fulfillment at Work Fosters Inequal- ity. Los Angeles, CA: University of California Press, 2021. 344p. Paper, $29.95 (ISBN: 978- 0520303232). Book Reviews 699 Loving your work is a truly American idea, but is it a capitalist trap? As a librarian, passion has played heavily in my own narratives about my work. As I’ve grown in my career and learned more about how multifaceted librarianship is, and as I have worked in different areas of librarianship, the passion I once held for the field has been hit hard with the reality of labor. Erin A. Cech, an Associate Sociology and Mechanical-Engineering Professor at the University of Michigan, explores questions of passion seeking in labor in The Trouble with Passion: How Searching for Fulfillment at Work Fosters Inequality. Cech developed a theoretical concept she calls the passion principle: “the belief that self-expression and fulfillment should be the central guiding principle in career decision making” (xii). Cech uses more than 170 interviews with college-educated career aspirants (students) and career counselors and four surveys of workers in the United States to demonstrate her theory. Cech also uses cultural schema, or “shared cultural frameworks for ‘viewing, filtering, and evaluating what we know as reality’” (13). In the first chapter, Cech shares her data so that the reader can see the interviews Cech collected and how the passion principle has factored into the choices career aspirants made. In chapter 2, she asks, “What is so compelling about finding passion in your labor?” There is more evidence from her data and interviews with students/career aspirants, but we also see that some people don’t rely on seeking passion in their work. Cech notes that those who pushed back on the passion principle theory were rare, and her data shows that class/ socioeconomic status plays a large part in who gets to find passion in their work and who doesn’t. In chapter 3, “The Privilege of Passion,” Cech has a particularly interesting section titled “Passion in Precarity.’’ As a former diversity resident librarian, I reflected on my experiences with job precarity during my residency. Cech notes that “for respondents from less privileged class backgrounds, passion-seeking came with greater risk of landing on a precarious path—a path that was unstable, temporary, poorly paid, and/or lacked feasible advancement opportu- nities’’ (147). This is exactly how some diversity residency programs work, and librarianship should continue to really critique how those programs truly work in the metaconversations about pipeline issues and retention. In chapter 4, Cech explores choicewashing: explaining away societal patterns of occupational inequality by making it about individual choices and how passion-seeking in labor can diminish structural issues of the labor market. The last chapter questions whether passion-seeking in labor exploits workers. This is where the theoretical concept of vocational awe developed through the work of Fobazi Ettarh and her 2018 article, “Vocational Awe and Librarianship: The Lies We Tell Ourselves,”1 can be explored by library workers who are reading Cech’s book. Both Cech and Ettarh explore worker exploitation in their respective works. Cech explains, “passion promises to inspire the inclination to work hard that is expected of employees in a capitalist economy, without requiring either extensive external compulsion by employees or the moral imperative of hard work for its own sake” (192). She writes about Karl Marx and his concerns about the exploita- tion of workers and “surplus value” (the economic value of what workers produce and the amount they are compensated for their work, 192). Ettarh also addresses these concerns in the “Burnout” and “Undercompensation” sections of her 2018 work. 700 College & Research Libraries July 2022 As a white-collar worker and former diversity resident trying to “prove my worth” to my institution to gain permanent employment, I worked longer hours and nights and weekends to achieve my goal of holding onto my position and ending my precarious status. Now I have more agency and freedom (privilege) in my role and can have clear and stricter boundaries between my work and other areas of my life. What resonates with me from Cech’s book is the discussion about capitalism and how it ties to white-collar work. Throughout the book, Cech notes how the demand and opportunity to have passion for our work has grown and shifted due to changes in industrial life, the expansion of white-collar labor, technology shifts, gendered-labor shifts in the workforce, and how Americans view work. This resonated with me as a librarian and historian. As I began my work in librarianship, I practiced vocational awe, and passion was a big part of the narrative I told myself about why I did this work. I spoke about it while completing my MLIS, in job interviews, when I moved from working as an archives assistant to being a children’s librarian at a public library, and during the interview process to be a diversity resident. The book never really answers the question of whether passion seeking in work is bad, and I don’t believe that is Cech’s goal. Cech engages readers to think about passion in labor seeking in a broader context of working life in America. Cech, a trained sociologist, uses those tools and evidence-based data to sup- port a new narrative about how current career aspirants view passion-seeking in their future careers. If you’re looking for a book that can offer you new insights into career choices while making you think critically about librarianship, passion, and labor, this is a recommended read.—Mallary Rawls, Florida State University Note 1. Fobazi Ettarh, “Vocational Awe and Librarianship: The Lies We Tell Ourselves,” In the Library with the Lead Pipe (January 2018), https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/. The Scholarly Communications Cookbook. Brianna Buljung and Emily Bongiovanni, eds. Chi- cago, IL: Association of College and Research Libraries, a division of the American Library Association, 2021. 358p. Softcover, $88.00 ($79.20 ALA members) (ISBN: 978-0838938478). The Scholarly Communications Cookbook, edited by Brianna Buljung and Emily Bongiovanni, offers a wide range of successful scholarly communications programs and projects that can serve as inspiration for librarians seeking to expand scholarly communications services at their institutions. A broad scope of scholarly communications top- ics is represented, including open access (OA) publishing services, open educational resources (OER) initiatives, research support tools, campus collaborations, and teaching and learning opportunities. The metaphor in the book’s title appropriately describes the book’s format as well as how it is best read and used: just like an actual cookbook. Each chapter is a short, digestible “recipe” for an aspect of scholarly communications; you most likely won’t read it from cover to cover. Instead, the Cookbook is a resource to consult when you want to know how to “cook” a certain “recipe” (implement a specific project or service), or for inspiration for how to use the “ingredients” (resources, staffing, and the like) that you already have. There is a strong focus on practicality and putting scholarly communications initiatives into action. Recipes