Braille? Wow!

“You can ask for free author’s copies,” my friend says. “Just call this number.”

I put down the receiver and do the happy dance for joy. My books in braille. That’s just great!

I rush back to the phone and call the Library for the Blind.

A sweet voice answers the phone and tipping over my tongue for excitement I try to tell the woman what I want.

“Anita Verkerk’s books?” she says. “Sure. What’s your name please?”

“Anita Verkerk.”

“Yes, I know you want her books. I need your name please.”

“I’m not a customer, I’m just...”

“Are you visually handicapped?” the woman asks. Her voice sounds as if she suspects that my mind isn’t sane either.

“No, I’m not visually handicapped, but I do want those books.” It takes me at least five minutes to explain the situation.

“Ah!” the woman calls out in relief. “You’re the author, and you want me to send you some author’s copies. Of course. Which one of your books do you choose in braille?”

“Choose? No, I want them all,” I reply, greed dripping from my voice.

I can hear the woman swallow. “Are you sure? Can you read braille?”

“No, I can’t read braille, but those are my books and I really crave to have them all.”

The woman heaves a big sig. “Sure. Where can I send them?”

I give her my address and hang up the phone.

My books in braille. I can hardly wait!

Three days go by. Then, six little envelopes with audio books tumble on the door mat.

I pick them from the floor, but when I turn around to go back to the living, something very heavy falls on my heel.

“Ouch! That hurts.”

With narrowed eyes I look at a big beige kind of folder. What might that be?

When I crouch down to take a closer look, a second volume lands on my head.

I jump to my feet and book number three lands on my toes.

Good grief! What on earth is happening here?

Opening the door in a hurry, I find the mail man on my doorstep, carrying a lot of heavy volumes.

“Your braille books,” he says with a grin.

Huh? So many?

I lug half of the pile to my living and return to get the rest.

With a sharp knife I open the first novel.

Myrthe it says in normal printed characters, but the rest of the page consists of little bulges and dots that mean nothing to me.

But still... It’s quite fun to hold my own book in braille. Let’s have a look at the rest.

I open the second volume. Myrthe it says.

Myrthe again? I don’t need another copy. One is quite enough, right?

But the next three volumes display the same title. Myrthe

Huh?

Does this mean that these solid huge volumes are... my novel? Good grief! One simple novel is composed of eight huge books in braille!

I suddenly understand why the Library for the Blinds’s employee hesitated so much when I told her I wanted them all.

Help! This one title is already too much for my poor bookshelf.

I rush to the phone and call the Library.

“I’m sorry,” the employee says, a smile in her voice. “We have some problems in our postal division. But the other books will be sent as soon as possible.”

“No, please!” I call out. “I’ve changed my mind. One title is quite enough. Thank you so much.”

Greetings from The Netherlands!

    :-) Anita Verkerk.