I remember, as a five-year-old, walking home from school, past the Camberwell Public Library, navigating the stairs, asking if I could borrow a book and being given a membership application card for my parents to fill in. Furthermore, I remember the very book that I ever borrowed – The Story About Ping – which our teacher had read to us that very week. I was thrilled to have it in my possession. Throughout my primary school years, I sat in class with a book discretely tucked below my desk, only to be rudely interrupted by the teacher – ‘Penny – I hope you are not reading again!’I made my way through Enid Blyton, the Bronte’s, Dickens (probably abridged editions for children) and anything else I could get my hands on. As a twelve-year-old, I was thrilled by ‘Fifteen’ by Beverly Cleary because of its reference to a ‘first kiss’, and read this multiple times.