Have You Read (Heard) Any Good Books Lately?

Audiobooks provide the stories, but lack the warm and fuzzy experience actual books deliver.

A longtime, voracious reader of fiction, I had never listened to an audiobook. No, I prefer the tactile experience of curling up with a good book.

Until now.

With a daily commute to the office that amounts to forty-five minutes in the car (shh, don’t tell Al Gore - yes, I recognize that my carbon footprint is larger than it should be, because of this commute - in an internal-combustion, gas-powered vehicle, no less, with no other passengers on board), I have taken the opportunity to partake of several entertaining podcasts during that time, including Business Wars and American History Tellers, the only two podcasts of which I am aware that are not full-frontal, true crime stories.

Having fully binged those two podcasts, I felt as if I should broaden my horizon, and seek new avenues of storytelling. As I pointed out above, I am a longtime, voracious reader of fiction. But, society (and, by “society” I mean the police) frowns upon operating a motor vehicle while reading a book (and, by “frowns upon” I mean the police will issue a ticket). Why not audiobooks, I thought?

The key to accessing audiobooks is to first secure a library card; I had one, but hadn’t visited a library in a few years, which apparently invalidates the card. So, I visited the local library, and was gifted with a brand new card, which entitled me to utilize a free app called, “Libby,” from which users are able to download audiobooks free. There are likely other free apps, but this one was listed first in the brochure I received from the kindly librarian, and I’m nothing if not lazy, generally choosing the first option; that’s how I got married to my lovely wife, Carrie (I’m kidding, honey. . .alright, I’ll grab a pillow, and go sleep on the couch).

As I browsed selections of novels contained in the Libby universe, I noted that there were 5,993 selections included in the “Fiction” category. I quickly learned that each audiobook was tagged with either a “Borrow” option or a “Place Hold” option. I did test the “Place Hold” functionality, because I was curious what kind of “hold” timeline I was facing. As an example, a book entitled, All the Light We Cannot See, by Anthony Doerr, currently reflects three copies in use, with 33 people waiting to access one of those 3 copies; the app further helpfully suggests that, if I placed a hold on the book, I would likely wait about 23 weeks before being able to read (hear) it.

Being an “instant gratification” guy, I determined that I would locate a book which enabled me to access it and begin reading (hearing) it right away. So, I browsed away, until I stumbled across a book entitled, Nine Perfect Strangers, by Liane Moriarty, who I knew had also written Big Little Lies, a book which I had read, and enjoyed. I believe Big Little Lies had been developed into a streaming series of some sort, and Nine Perfect Strangers featured a tag indicating that it, too, had been developed as a “Hulu Original.”

“Alright, I’ll bite,” I thought.

I clicked the “Borrow” button, and, Eureka! there it was, right away, housed in my iPhone, ready for me to read (hear).

If you’ve ever taken the SAT or ACT college entrance exams, you will recognize the following question as an example of a question posed on those exams: “The audiobook, Nine Perfect Strangers contains roughly sixteen hours of audio content; Bill’s daily commute amounts to one-and-a-half hours; how many daily commutes are required for Bill to complete his listening to the audiobook, Nine Perfect Strangers, assuming that his audio attention is devoted entirely to listening to the audiobook, and not diverted in any way to listening to podcasts, or to streaming audio content on the Steely Dan channel on Spotify or to conducting iPhone calls via his car’s hands-free sound system?”

The answer, for those of you scoring at home, is 10.7 daily commutes.

So, there I was, off to the races with Nine Perfect Strangers, delivered to me in audio form. Very early in my journey, it became clear that I hadn’t thought all the way through my audiobook choice. Although Ms. Moriarty’s Big Little Lies and Nine Perfect Strangers were each well-crafted tales, with compelling characters, what I hadn’t fully considered was that Ms. Moriarty is a native Australian. And, naturally, when it came time to secure someone to record Ms. Moriarty’s books for the audiobook version, the books’ publishers would likely tap an Australian.

“How’s that a problem, mate?” you might find yourself asking.

Well. . .allow me to put this as delicately as possible: A little Australian accent goes a long way, as is arguably the case with Christian rock music. (Ed. note: Please, no angry letters, emails or phone calls - the columnist intends no offense against the Australian people, or government or kangaroos, for that matter - he simply finds the extended use of an Australian accent to be quite grating. Similarly, the columnist intends no offense against Christian rock music performers - their music can be quite enjoyable - in tiny doses). I mean, sure, I enjoyed Crocodile Dundee as much as the next guy (the first one, anyway); Paul Hogan’s charming, fish out of water character was quite endearing. But, sixteen hours?

I think the top three candidates for “Most Annoying Use of the Australian Accent” would include these words: “schedule” (pronounced “Shezz-you’ll”); “massage” (pronounced “mass-ajj,” with the emphasis on the “mass”); and “body” (you’d think this one would be relatively inoffensive, but, it was pronounced “boat-ey”). And, given that the setting for this novel was a wellness center, how often do you think these words were deployed? If your answer was “less than fifteen,” then you’ve likely not visited a wellness center. Perhaps you should call right now to “schedule” a full-“body” “massage.”

In spite of these hurdles, I found my way through the entire, sixteen-hour Nine Perfect Strangers audiobook experience. I enjoyed the book, although it’s definitely not the same as reading a physical book; perhaps you, as I do, enjoy the feeling of accomplishment derived from reading the final page in a novel, and, lightly closing the book, and placing it on the table.

Clearly, it was necessary to cleanse my palate in the wake of this reading (hearing) experience; my next audiobook choice had to be one which not only provided a good story, but was also one which was delivered in a voice which I found pleasing (and, one which also satisfied my desire for instant gratification - I’m not waiting twenty-three weeks!).

Browsing the options in Libby yielded a novel which appeared to fit the bill quite nicely: Pleading Guilty, by Scott Turow. Turow, an attorney, was an author of a couple of books I read years ago, including Presumed Innocent and The Burden of Proof: legal thrillers. Turow was John Grisham, before John Grisham was John Grisham (I’ve included John Grisham’s name three times here, in a shameless attempt to attract those searching for works by the eminent author - what do you mean, that’s not how clickbait works?)

An added bonus for me is that not only is Turow a native Chicagoan (I spent thirty six-and-a-half of my formative years in Chicago), but he and I are also graduates of the same high school (about ten years apart): New Trier, in Winnetka, Illinois. So, I was convinced that the thirteen hours spent reading (hearing) Pleading Guilty would satisfy me on a personal level, that Nine Perfect Strangers did not.

And, so far, it has not disappointed me. The narrator of the audiobook does not possess a full-on Chicago accent, which I recognize might also become grating to some (Ed. note: see Youtube clip just below), as was my experience with the Australian accent, but his voice is clearly grounded in an inoffensive, Midwestern accent.

One detail I may have overlooked in choosing this book to read (hear): this novel was first published about thirty years ago. And, Turow’s prose can sound dated at times (by the way, “Turow’s Prose” would be a great name for a thoroughbred racehorse, no? “I’d like to bet a sawbuck on Turow’s Prose to win.” “It’s Turow’s Prose. . .by a Nose!”).

I don’t plan on giving up reading actual books, but I’ll probably continue with this audiobook thing, while operating a motor vehicle (you know, in deference to the police). I welcome your suggestions regarding which audiobook to read next; just, you know, don’t recommend Dickens - that English accent would cause me to careen into a telephone pole.

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