There was a magic in words
greater than the conjurer's art.
- Jack London
greater than the conjurer's art.
- Jack London
Although I've discovered many pleasures in country living, commuting is not one of them. On a good day it takes 30 minutes to drive to my office downtown—longer when school buses, freight trains, crummy weather and construction zones get in the way.
I know that by some standards that isn’t bad, but for me it’s an hour a day of frustration and monotony. I can’t relax or daydream or work on a manuscript in my head, because I’m supposed to be, you know, paying attention to driving (something I wish my fellow commuters would do a little more of). I tried distracting myself with morning radio but couldn't take the incessant chatter or commercials. Besides, it can be pretty depressing starting the day with what passes for “news” sometimes.
Since I'm still iPod-less (and yes, I'm aware that it's the 21st century, thank you) I've had to rely on my CD collection. That was fine for a while, but there’s a limit to how many times even I can sing along to Carole King’s Tapestry album.
Then one day I asked a coworker and fellow commuter how she coped with her long drive every day. “Actually, I look forward to it,” she told me. “It’s the only chance I get all day to read.” If those cartoon lightbulbs over people’s heads were real, mine would have clicked on instantly, lighting up the whole city block.
Books! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it. When the kids were young, we owned a few book/audiotape sets. I would pop a tape into the car’s cassette player, hand them the book, and they would “read” along, the little ding on the soundtrack telling them when it was time to turn the page. I remember that Arnold Lobel’s Frog and Toad series and Disney books based on movies like The Fox and the Hound were particular favorites.
When we’d go on an occasional long trip (Michigan —> Florida = 24 hours in the car, bleh) I always stopped by the library first to check out a few more audiobooks for the kids. I even tried it myself once or twice, since I’m one of those unfortunate people who gets queasy reading in the car. But back then, a full-length novel came in a giant plastic box with some 25 cassettes. Kind of clunky, to say the least, and a lot to keep track of when you were on vacation with three little kids.
In the years since then, I’ve driven roughly 3.26 million miles, but they were mostly with kids in tow—my kids, the kids in the carpool, the kids on the soccer team, the kids in the school play. I listened to whatever they were listening to, which evolved from Disney movie soundtracks to Hootie and the Blowfish, The Smashing Pumpkins, No Doubt, Matchbox 20. When I did happen to find myself alone in the car, I would usually just enjoy the peace and quiet.
I know that by some standards that isn’t bad, but for me it’s an hour a day of frustration and monotony. I can’t relax or daydream or work on a manuscript in my head, because I’m supposed to be, you know, paying attention to driving (something I wish my fellow commuters would do a little more of). I tried distracting myself with morning radio but couldn't take the incessant chatter or commercials. Besides, it can be pretty depressing starting the day with what passes for “news” sometimes.
Since I'm still iPod-less (and yes, I'm aware that it's the 21st century, thank you) I've had to rely on my CD collection. That was fine for a while, but there’s a limit to how many times even I can sing along to Carole King’s Tapestry album.
Then one day I asked a coworker and fellow commuter how she coped with her long drive every day. “Actually, I look forward to it,” she told me. “It’s the only chance I get all day to read.” If those cartoon lightbulbs over people’s heads were real, mine would have clicked on instantly, lighting up the whole city block.
Books! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it. When the kids were young, we owned a few book/audiotape sets. I would pop a tape into the car’s cassette player, hand them the book, and they would “read” along, the little ding on the soundtrack telling them when it was time to turn the page. I remember that Arnold Lobel’s Frog and Toad series and Disney books based on movies like The Fox and the Hound were particular favorites.When we’d go on an occasional long trip (Michigan —> Florida = 24 hours in the car, bleh) I always stopped by the library first to check out a few more audiobooks for the kids. I even tried it myself once or twice, since I’m one of those unfortunate people who gets queasy reading in the car. But back then, a full-length novel came in a giant plastic box with some 25 cassettes. Kind of clunky, to say the least, and a lot to keep track of when you were on vacation with three little kids.
In the years since then, I’ve driven roughly 3.26 million miles, but they were mostly with kids in tow—my kids, the kids in the carpool, the kids on the soccer team, the kids in the school play. I listened to whatever they were listening to, which evolved from Disney movie soundtracks to Hootie and the Blowfish, The Smashing Pumpkins, No Doubt, Matchbox 20. When I did happen to find myself alone in the car, I would usually just enjoy the peace and quiet.
.
But now, out of the chauffeur business and alone in the car for an hour a day, I’ve discovered that audiobooks are the perfect way to fill the empty spaces. Some of the first ones I tried were in the Harry Potter series, read by the brilliant Jim Dale. He must be some kind of wizard himself, because he sprinkled those books with magic, capturing the nuances of every character with just his amazing voice. I found out later that he won two Grammy Awards for his work on those books—I’m surprised it wasn’t more.
Sometimes audiobooks are enhanced because the author actually narrates them. This is especially true for nonfiction. Steve Martin’s autobiography, Born Standing Up, is a great example. Hearing him read the comedy bits sprinkled through the book is like performance art. And the serious parts seem even more poignant when you hear them in his own voice. Tom Brokaw also did a great job with Boom!, his collection of opinions and anecdotes about the 1960s.
Hearing stories told in authentic accents is another bonus of audiobooks. The Irish readers who narrate Maeve Binchy’s books have made me love them even more. Her words sound so much richer, sweeter and funnier than the way I hear them in my American head. Another example is the popular novel The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. Set during World War II, the story is comprised entirely of letters the characters send to each other. Hearing them read in different voices and accents adds to the authenticity, bringing a cast of dozens to believable life.
Sometimes audiobooks are enhanced because the author actually narrates them. This is especially true for nonfiction. Steve Martin’s autobiography, Born Standing Up, is a great example. Hearing him read the comedy bits sprinkled through the book is like performance art. And the serious parts seem even more poignant when you hear them in his own voice. Tom Brokaw also did a great job with Boom!, his collection of opinions and anecdotes about the 1960s.
Hearing stories told in authentic accents is another bonus of audiobooks. The Irish readers who narrate Maeve Binchy’s books have made me love them even more. Her words sound so much richer, sweeter and funnier than the way I hear them in my American head. Another example is the popular novel The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. Set during World War II, the story is comprised entirely of letters the characters send to each other. Hearing them read in different voices and accents adds to the authenticity, bringing a cast of dozens to believable life.
.
Not all books are well-suited for audio, of course. I remember my dad struggling with The DaVinci Code because the audio version couldn't show him the puzzles and anagrams he was supposed to be figuring out. Highly illustrated books like those in Jeff Kinney's wonderful Diary of a Wimpy Kid series would never work, either. And certainly I've run across books that would have benefitted from a more talented voice actor.
But now I’m addicted. I sometimes arrive at work right in the middle of an exciting scene, only to have to wait in suspense all day until it’s time to drive home. And it makes me crazy when I get in the car and realize I don’t have a book to listen to. Then it's time to jump online and browse the library’s catalog to see what's available on CD (much more compact—heh—and user friendly than the old cassettes).
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Now the CDs themselves are about to make way for the newest format—eAudiobooks. These electronic files are downloaded directly from an online store to a computer or MP3. The library has them, too—you download them and after the three-week “lending period,” they disappear from your computer. I don’t get how they do that, but it’s cool! In fact, it may just be the motivation that finally gets me to buy an iPod..
