Lippy about Libby: Here’s why I have a slew of digital library cards

I love libraries. I wish the libraries in St. John’s were like cathedrals, that there were more of them, that they were better located and that they had better resources for public use and service.

A boy can dream.

I love going to the library too, especially when I’m not in a hurry and have some time to let both my feet and my mind wander. That’s when discovery happens … finding something you didn’t know you wanted to read, and perhaps something that you need to read.

As much I enjoy the physical space of a library, most of the books I borrow now are virtual, or rather taken out electronically.

I’ve been using the Libby app (and before that Overdrive, which developed it) for years. My usage really took off when the COVID-19 pandemic was in full swing, and it struck me that my podcast queue had become, well, depressing. I needed a change of pace, or at least of topics. Audiobooks went from being a niche part of my media diet to a primary one. (I take out a lot of ebooks, too.)

There was another aspect. I broke my leg in January 2020, and by that spring, when I was literally back on my feet, I was needing to strengthen my legs and get some exercise. Listening to a book — inherently a longer proposition — was an incentive to walk further. And, did I mention there was a pandemic and we were all crawling the walls?

I needed variety in my ears, and Libby helped me find it. I used my Newfoundland and Labrador Public Libraries card number to get started, and within days, I was hooked.

As much as I love and respect the provincial library service, the local offerings on Libby are limited. I hope some politicians and public figures read that line again. To be fair, it is a smaller library system, and there are costs to delivering this free service, as we’ll get to below. But it certainly could be much more robust.

I looked up whether there were libraries that would allow you to get a Libby card, even if you didn’t live there.

And you can … for a price. I bought an out-of-state card from the Central Arkansas Library System, and renewed it for several years. I bought another from a library in Queens, New York.

I had always been envious of friends who had cards from the impressive Toronto Public Library, and a few years ago, on a work trip to Toronto, I went to a TPL branch. You can get a non-resident membership there, but you have to present yourself in person. It was a great year, and I felt the loss when the privileges ended. Late last fall, I was delighted to be in Toronto again and to return to the same branch. (Earlier this month, I went back yet again, and added another year to my subscription.)

I found another, too, with an impressive secondary effect. I acquired a card from the library in Burlington, in southern Ontario, and was delighted to find that doing so allowed me to access several other libraries in the province, including Ottawa and Mississauga.

This does come at a cost to me, and I’m perfectly fine with it. The cost of the TPL card jumped over the last couple of years, and is now $150 a year. I still think that’s a bargain, as I use it a lot. The Burlington card was about half that. The Queens card cost US $50. I opted not to renew the Arkansas card this winter, although I would heartily recommend it, and may renew it at another time.

The idea of a non-resident charge is that it should equal what the library service budgets for each of its residents, through tax dollars. Fair enough.

There are other issues, though, and one of them is the economics of digital licences.

The good news: digital use is high. Overdrive announced in January that between its various apps (including Sora, which is built for schoolkids), readers checked out 820 million titles in 2025, up almost 11 per cent from the year before. Its Kanopy streaming app was used 29.9 million times, with a billion minutes streamed.

To put those numbers in perspective, consider that Libby is not yet 10 years old.

That heftier use, though, is coming with costs. Everyone in the publishing industry now knows that Libby is a major driver of sales, and licences are simply getting more expensive. I surely hope more of these funds are winding up in the pockets of the authors.

Earlier this month, I met for a coffee with an old colleague. When she talked about a book about neuroplasticity — a subject I’m really curious about — I pulled out my phone, put a hold on that book and took out another by the same author, all while we were still chatting about it. That ease of use delights me.

My friend had not seen Libby before. It’s always a pleasure to introduce someone to one of the best apps there is.

This very post is doing exactly that, too.