The other day a friend showed me the copy of Broken Rules they’d picked up from Footscray Library. The book had been carefully covered, a catalogue sticker affixed to the spine. Seeing this was as thrilling as seeing my book in a shop for the first time. In some ways maybe more so. There’s something wonderful about libraries and the books within them. Their permanence, for one thing. An illusion, I know, as old stock can be cleared from the shelves (and sold off, one would hope). But still, a library book holds more potential to reach multiple readers than a bought book, which may only ever have one.