[This week's column is a true story, in his own words, by one Francois Pretorius. My thanks to library Delta County Libraries District Director Annette Choszczyk for passing it along.]

As a teenager, I listened to music in one of three ways: on my transistor radio (portable), on the radio in my room (a dedicated device plugged into the wall), or on the stereo.

For the stereo, I bought a few albums, but like most teenagers mostly I bought, and listened to, 45s.

This week's column is by my daughter, Madeleine LaRue, currently teaching English in Taipei City, Taiwan. She is the child of two librarians, and as you can see, this has left its mark.

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The Taipei public library, by Madeleine LaRue

About a year and a half ago I read an essay by George Orwell called “Books vs. Cigarettes,” in which he defends of his habit of buying books by systematically proving that it is not, in fact, as expensive as other hobbies, such as smoking. I don’t smoke, and thank God, because I, like Orwell, already spend the majority of my paycheck on books. Since moving to Taiwan this has become problematic: all English-language books here are imported, and therefore astronomically expensive.