Huib took pictures of the front and back covers of the four books still in daylight. After dinner, they left the dishes and both started reading a book, then very briefly described its contents. Huib sent the data of the first two books to Ilse, saying that the data of the other two books would probably come tonight or else tomorrow as soon as possible.

Margreet suggested doing the dishes first and then just continue reading. Huib thought it was a great idea.

Halfway through the evening, they received a group email from Ilse.

'We have a new artist, a word artist. Huib and Margreet have read her first books and sent me a short description with the pictures attached. I have already created her page and put her books on it. Knowing this lady, her page will be completed in no time... I hope you don't mind that Huib, Margreet and I made this decision together. It was abundantly clear to us that she should have a page with us, hence...'

She closed the message with the link.

Huib and Margreet had both read it on their mobile, looked at the page, and separately sent a thumbs-up in the group email. It only took a moment, and more thumbs-ups appeared, as well as short, delighted reactions. Marieke came up with a short response: 'Read it out loud here at the guesthouse, to all the guests, listened breathlessly... were amazed and delighted! Rosalie wrote the fourth book in one week, started the fifth today... If she continues like this, a book a week...'

Ilse, pleased with the response, pulled Ineke out of the book she was reading.

"May I just show you our new page, on the gallery's website?"

"Was that phone call this afternoon about that?" asked Ineke.

"Yep!" said Ilse and handed her mobile to Ineke.

"What, Rosalie's books on the gallery? Ha, great! Does she know already?"

"No, not yet, I think I'll show it to her in person tomorrow. What time do you think is best for me to come?"

"About ten o'clock we'll have coffee, then we'll all sit together," Ineke replied, "that seems most convenient, don't you think?"

"I think I'll come a little earlier, quarter to ten, so I can show it to her alone first. Has to do with taking her seriously, despite her age," Ilse explained with a wink.

.

Halfway through the evening another email was sent, by Annelies, to Joke: 'Just briefly, have started, can't stop, great writing style, captivating story and... I stop emailing, I want to read on! Please send the other books after your holiday, I want to drown in this!'

Joke read the message bewildered, letting Anton read it.

"I know it wasn't bad, but as good as she describes? Would she really mean it?"

Anton pulled her against him and roared with laughter.

"What an amazing woman you are! You haven't even half realised how well you write! It has depth, girl, depth and there is momentum. It's just wonderful! Soul work, that above all..."

He kissed her full on the mouth even though they were sitting in the living room of the guesthouse with all the other guests around them. It earned them huge applause and a lot of cheering!

.

That night, Joke just couldn't catch any sleep. Her books, Annelies wants to read them all. And she probably wants to print them because she likes them so much. All sorts of thoughts and questions swirled through her mind. She would prefer to go to Annelies tomorrow and say she really didn't want to, but on the other hand... if her work was really that good, wouldn't it be stupid not to?

Anton couldn't fall asleep either, but pretended he was. He noticed how Joke was tossing and turning and understood that her books were keeping her from sleeping. A plan came to his mind so she wouldn't have to fret about this all holiday. He would tomorrow...

Anton turned around, put his arm around Joke.

"Hey darling," he whispered by her ear. "I suddenly thought about tomorrow. I forgot to tell you, I have to go back for work tomorrow morning. I expect to be back before noon, you see. Do you think you can have fun writing?"

Joke nodded and turned to him, hiding her head against his chest. "Those books, they make me so restless! I just lie there pondering..."

"I understand you Joke, it's no small thing either. You write so wonderfully, so from the depths of your soul, but it's still hard to feel how good your writing style is. Your books will find their way, and give people wonderful hours, touch their hearts. I feel bad for you that you struggle with it so much, but I also know, it's another piece of deeper healing. And that ultimately benefits your writing style. And especially how you think and feel about yourself! Just get through it, you'll snap back further."

He continued to hold her against him, knowing how much that did to her. He knew the radiance of his soul. His strength and light, everything Joke needed, flowed abundantly to her. It didn't take him long to notice that her body relaxed and her breathing calmed down. She had fallen asleep. With a smile on his face, he fell asleep himself a little later.

.

The next morning was a joyful chatter in the dining room. Rosalie was the talk of the day, the amazement at the gift of this sweet toddler was great.

"I'm glad we got to watch at the centre, yesterday," Marieke said. "It is quite clear to me that when a child is allowed to discover everything by himself in such freedom, eventually discovering himself, that development goes much faster and deeper. I remember so well how often I had to do things at school that I disliked, that I had no interest in. It was really hanging and wriggling! I think, even though I wasn't aware of it at the time, that pretty much stopped my development!"

"Do you remember what you had such trouble with?"

"Topography, anything to do with geography anyway, but especially topography. I crammed all these places and rivers and I don't know what all into my head. And what do I know now? I'm lucky if I still have ten percent of it left. In itself, I do understand that it is useful that I know that Amsterdam is not here in Limburg. But then, of course, you come to the question of what is and isn't good to learn. What does make sense? And I can't figure that out anyway. But Johan, one thing I do know is that when our daughter turns four..."

"... then we will drive up and down to the centre next door every day!" complemented Johan.

"Too bad it's so far away hey... half an hour by car," Marieke sighed.

"Don't you think that you' re fine with that?" asked Johan.

"Yes, but then, if we have more children, will I have to drag them along every time?"

Johan laughed: "How wonderfully far-sighted you are! It's not that far off yet! And we can also do it this way, that I take her there in the morning, and then drive on to work."

"Then you drive around terribly!" protested Marieke.

"Yeah well, we have to give it a go! If it means our children have a wonderful time and develop well... it's worth it to me!"

.

Anton drove to their hometown that morning, drove home, and not to work at all. He turned on the computer and looked up Annelies' email address. He wrote her an email, telling her that Joke was mulling over publishing her book, and that he did not want to keep her waiting until after their holidays. He would send her other books along with this mail, so Annelies could read them.

'And please get her books ready for sale as soon as possible, if you like them as much as you wrote yesterday! I give you permission on Joke's behalf. But... keep this a secret from her, it's a surprise! You can contact me through this email address, Joke doesn't use it.'

He looked up the saved books and sent them along. With a happy smile, he closed the computer again, got into the car and drove back to the guesthouse. He hoped Annelies would lose herself completely in the books every evening and order her husband to go straight to print the books and put them up for sale....

Back at the guesthouse, he grabbed his mobile before getting out, having felt it buzz. It was as he hoped, a message from Annelies:

'How nice of you to do this for her, really a lovely surprise! I think her books will sell very well, if they are all like yesterday's. They triggered a few things in me...'

'And that's the best thing you can report about them!' wrote Anton back.

Upstairs, in their guest room, he found Joke crying next to her laptop. She had pushed it aside, probably to prevent her tears from falling on it. Anton knocked softly on the door so as not to startle her too much. She looked up, still startled, stood up and walked towards him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he clasped her tightly against him. He said nothing, letting her go first.

As soon as she calmed down enough to talk, she told him in fits and starts that writing was not working today because she was so incredibly busy in her mind with everything that was going on around her last book. She was so afraid that publishing her books would be a flop, that they would not sell at all, and that she would be embarrassed.

Anton put his hands on either side of her head and turned her head so that he could look at her. "It does go very deep for a while hey..."

She nodded, "Scary deep, like all the ground is disappearing from under my feet. And yes, I know it's good, that this is all healing again, but..."

"... as long as you're in it, it's super intense!" Anton complemented.

"It really is," she said with a deep sigh, relieved that Anton understood her so well again.

"Shall we close that laptop and then walk to the village. I think I feel like having coffee and cake or ice cream at that cosy little place."

"Yes, nice, but I look terrible, don't I?"

She detached herself from him and walked to the mirror. "Look at that, such a crying face."

She grabbed a flannel, ran the tap until the water was very cold, and splashed the soaking wet flannel into her face a few times. "So that feels better already, but it still looks lousy."

"Darling, go sit on your chair at the back of your work table. Yes, go ahead, I'm going to help you for a while."

Anton picked up her jar of cream, placed it open next to her on the table and took a bit of it on both his index fingers.

"Just close your eyes, then we won't run the risk of me smearing cream in your eyes."

He had done this before at times when she had been upset, and had found it miraculous himself, simply because it calmed her in every way. Her skin, her emotions, her whole body. Again, he noticed her completely relaxed surrendering to his treatment, resting her head against his belly.

She sighed deeply when he finished and closed the jar. "You always know exactly what I need hey..."

"My heart goes out to you, dear, I feel your pain and your struggle, and when I follow my feelings, my impressions, I come to this kind of thing. And I love doing it, because I notice that it helps you, that you even enjoy it."

"One more thing about those books," Joke said, "Annelies wants me to send my other books after our holiday too. I hate the idea of having to spend the whole holiday haggling about that. If she really likes the book that much... shall I ask her to print it and put it on sale?"

Anton smiled, "Brave writer! Maybe that's a good idea!"

They walked down the stairs, out of the guesthouse, into the village, to their favourite tent, both choosing a beautiful and delicious ice cream coupe.

"To celebrate getting my books published!" said Joke, smiling.

"All of them?" asked Anton. "Are you going to publish them all?"

"I'm going to send them all out and then we'll see. If Annelies really likes them well enough, I'll let her publish them. What should they cost? Those books by Rosalie, they're selling for ten euros now. Mine don't compare to that... I couldn't get it round in my mind, reasoning, I mean, reasoning didn't help me, but now that I was quiet for a moment, I got the impression of fifteen euros. What do you think about that?"

Anton smiled, "I also got fifteen in my mind, so I guess that's okay. Come, don't let your ice cream melt!"

.

While Anton and Joke enjoyed their ice cream, Ilse arrived at the discovery centre. Despite the nice weather, she had gone by car, as she wanted to drive past the printer shop on the way back to buy a stack of Rosalie's books.

She introduced herself to Bea and Patrick, and asked if she could disturb Rosalie for a moment.

"We had already heard from Ineke that you would stop by. Will you join us for a cup of coffee later?"

"Gladly, cosy! And where can I find Rosalie?"

Jan, who was working on a fun puzzle about a farm nearby, came up to her and introduced himself: "My name is Jan and I know where Rosalie is. Shall I take you?"

"Ha Jan, you are the gardener, I heard from Ineke. My name is Ilse, and yes, I like it when you show me the way."

With a nod to Bea and Patrick, she followed Jan closely.

"Rosalie writes books, books about animals, and she's really going to sell them!"

"I heard so, yes, I think I will go and buy her books too in a minute. Are they already in the bookshop, do you know?"

"No, they are with my mum and dad in the print shop. You can go there to buy them." He called her the address, then paused and pointed, "There she is, working on her new book, about butterflies. I can hardly wait until it's a real book. Then one of the companions is going to read it to me too."

"Cool Jan, Rosalie is working hard, so I'm sure it won't take long. Thank you for bringing me here. Are you going to continue with your puzzle again?"

Jan nodded: "Yes, I will, then I'll have it ready for coffee later, I think."

"Nice, then I'll come and see it!" Ilse promised.

Jan hopped back, while Ilse watched him. She turned around and saw that Rosalie had discovered her.

"Ilse? You come here?" she asked in surprise.

"Yes, dear book writer, I came to show you something. Are you working on your new book?"

"Yes, about Vlinnie, a beautiful butterfly who plays with a lot of other butterflies. But what did you want to show me then?" asked Rosalie curiously.

"I want to show you something on a website, is that possible on your laptop too?"

"Yes, you can! Just save it..."

Skillfully she saved her story and opened an internet page.

"Which site?"

"Funny, I think you already have it here in a folder, from the gallery."

"Oh that one, yes, I do."

Rosalie clicked, on which the website popped up.

"Just click on the artists, and we'll find it."

Rosalie clicked on the artists, on which the list of artworks and the artists' names appeared.

"Hey, look at that!" she exclaimed. "Books, Rosalie van Gelder! Are my books on it?"

Without waiting for an answer, she clicked her page, and saw the pictures of her books appear, with a little bit of text with each book.

"Oh, my books are really on there! Did you do that?"

"Well, Huib took the photos, and Huib and Margreet both read two of your books and wrote a short text with them about the content, what the story is about. And they sent that to me so that I could make a page for you."

Rosalie, handy as she was with her laptop, enlarged the page so she could more easily read the text accompanying the pictures.

"So this is what Huib and Margreet wrote with it... did they like my books that much?" she asked, bewildered.

"Definitely, fun and good, real soul art, it comes to you from within too. Do you feel the same way?" asked Ilse.

"Yes, I feel that too. I always know in the beginning what animal I am going to write about, but the real story only comes when I start. Sometimes I think I know how it goes, and then it changes again. In the beginning I found that scary, but now I find it incredibly fun. It's a surprise for me every time! And this is also a surprise, a great surprise, I'm so happy about it!"

Rosalie jumped over and threw herself against Ilse to hug her intimately.

"Thank you Ilse, I really love it!"

"I'm very happy about that!"

Rosalie looked at her: "I hear the coffee machine. Patrick is in the mood for coffee again! And I feel like having some too! Are you coming for coffee too?"

Ilse nodded.

"I'll bring my laptop, so everyone can see."

She clicked back to the main page for a moment.

"Why are you doing that then?" asked Ilse in surprise.

"Then it will be a very big surprise for Patrick and Bea, and for Ineke and Jan," laughed Rosalie. "Come, to the coffee corner!"

Rosalie put her laptop on a table near the coffee corner.

"Go ahead and sit down, I'll just get the sugar bowl and cups of coffee cream."

She almost bumped into Jan. "I already have those! But you can still pick up the teaspoons if you want."

"Fine, I will!"

"How super cheerful you sound," thought Ineke, "is your book going so well?"

"Yes, it's going really well, with all my books hahaha, you'll see later!"

Bea looked at her in surprise: "What do you mean, Rosalie?"

"Little secret, little surprise secret..." she sang, picked up the jar of teaspoons and the biscuit tin and went back to the coffee corner.

Bea chuckled, "What is that lady up to?"

"A surprise secret..." sang Ineke like an echo.

Laughing, they came to the coffee corner with a tray of mugs and glasses.

"So, bring on your surprise secret! Or do we have to wait until we finish our drinks?" asked Bea.

"No way, I can't keep this secret that long! Patrick, are you coming too?"

As soon as Patrick, with a questioning face to the others, sat in the circle, Rosalie opened her laptop.

"What website is this?" asked Bea.

"That's from the gallery, right?" thought Patrick.

"Bingo! You're through to the next round, Patrick. And the next round is here, in the list of artists... I don't think you can even see it. A new one has been added, I'll just click on that one... like that!"

Triumphantly, she turned to the others.

Jan was the first to respond: "Those are your books! Why are they on the computer?"

"Because they did my books at the gallery, my books are art too... is that so Ilse? My books aren't figurines or anything..."

"No, that's right, but Sjaak and Lisa's music videos aren't figurines either. Those are music art. And your books are word art. Do you get it?"

Rosalie laughed again: "Oh yes, of course! But now I suddenly see that the price is wrong. You added ten euros! They don't cost that much, do they? I thought seven and a half..."

"Yes..." said Bea, "but Bert called yesterday to say he didn't actually think it was a fair price. He wanted to raise it to ten euros, and I think he was right about that. So now your books are for sale on the gallery's website for ten euros..." Bea turned to Ilse: "How does that work? If someone wants to buy a book?"

"Then they email me via the contact link, I arrange an invoice and make sure the book gets to the customer. Or they pick it up. I am considering stocking roughly 10 books of each book, so I can arrange it myself. Bert and Annelies can then just keep selling from the print shop as well, and I can start doing it from the gallery. By the way, they are already on the gallery's accounts on Facebook and Twitter. Just a quick look though..."

Ilse took a sip of her coffee and searched for Facebook on her mobile.

"Here, all thumbs up and hearts at each book! Now if they start ordering too..."

On Twitter too, the reactions were positive.

Ilse searched further, to the gallery's email list.

"Dear goodness! I haven't looked for an hour, and suddenly there are a whole bunch of orders! All from your books, and one from Marianne, but I already knew that, Fiona wanted to buy her first macramé work. But otherwise all from your books. I think I'll just pay a visit to the print shop in a minute! And I suspect I will have to go there quite regularly. And I'm thinking of something else. There should also be an option to post comments. So if someone has read one of your books, that they can tell on the site how they liked the book. I think I already know how I'm going to do it, at the contact page!"

Ilse chuckled and looked at Ineke: "I had also already discovered a way to let people choose a subject they want to email about. Like ordering, that allows me to know immediately when I see a new mail that it's about an order. I'm also going to add an option 'Comment on a product' or something like that. Will be totally fine! Sorry dear people, I'm just overly excited!"

"And so am I!" jumped Rosalie between Jan and Ilse on the sofa, almost splashing Ilse's coffee over the edge.

"Oops, sorry Ilse, are you OK?"

"Thankfully, I had already drunk some of the coffee and the rest stayed in the mug."

Quickly, she drank the rest of her coffee.

"Dear folks, I'm off again, thanks for the coffee and the fun. And you, Rosalie word artist, get on with your butterflies!"

.

Ilse had no idea how to get into the print shop. She stood in front of the house, and decided to just ring the bell there.

Annelies opened the door and before she could say anything, Ilse said, "You must be Jan's mother, I can see it from your face. I am Ilse, the web administrator of the digital gallery. Huib was at your print shop yesterday to buy Rosalie's books. And I have now put them on the website, take a look..."

She showed the page to Annelies.

"How nice for her, she really totally belongs! And rightly so... Joh, Ilse, come in and I'll show you the print shop if you like."

"Very much so, not only do I want to see it, I'd also like to buy a stack of Rosalies books, because I've already received quite a few orders through the website!"

"Oh, really? And how do you plan to arrange that?"

"Is your husband there too, then we can discuss it together..."

"Yes, come on." Annelies preceded her to the print shop.

"Bert, can you come for a moment?"

"Just a moment, just this... yes, I'm coming!"

"Good day, I'm Bert," he introduced himself

"And I'm Ilse, web administrator of the gallery that Huib also belongs to."

She explained how it had all gone the day before, and what her plans were.

"Great, absolutely great! And how many books did you want to bring?"

"I thought ten at first, but seeing how many orders are already coming in, I think I'll just increase it to twenty, twenty per title."

Ilse explained the gallery's sales system, that she herself received ten per cent of each price for her work for the site and as an intermediary for correspondence and administration. She promised she would talk to Rosalie and her parents about that.

Bert explained how with them the distribution was arranged, how much of the ten euros went to the printer shop and how much to Rosalie. Together they discussed how best to arrange it practically. It was a bit more complicated than Ilse had first envisaged, but together they came up with a good solution.

A little later Ilse left with a box full of books on her passenger seat and Bert wrote on his work list that when he had finished Joke's books, he would arrange new stacks for Rosalie.

To chapter 72. Struggles from Fiona

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