I’ve long been hinting that an audio book version of my anthology Noticing is coming. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to it by Christmas 2024, but, finally, this week I started narrating it.
The recording studio is a couple of blocks from my house. It’s kind of a dumpy plywood shack, and, yet, judging from the autographed pictures on the wall, people who have sung there include Ricky Nelson, Rod Stewart, and Kelly Clarkson. For about three years in the early 1970s, Rod Stewart was a god:
After a couple of days, we are 18% done with recording my book. I’m figuring it will be available for purchase by Spring.
I’m doing the narration. I’m not the world’s best at articulation, especially now that I finally lost a tooth that I broke in a bicycling accident in the late 1960s, so I now tend to sound like Daffy Duck when trying to pronounce S’s and F’s.
But, at least I know which of my lines are satire and which are serious, which would be a lot to ask of a professional audio book narrator.
One thing I’ve noticed is that, in writing, I’m addicted to alliteration, which is one way I signal facetiousness. For example, “Racial reckoning” sounds self-satirical, which it ought to, even though it isn’t intended to be satirical. But a problem with alliterative phrases is that they are hard to enunciate out loud. I’ve developed a phobia whenever I can see an alliterative phrase coming up.
Another downside of my alliteration addiction (try saying “alliteration addiction” quickly) is that many readers don’t believe that the mainstream media in 2020 were really mainlining the phrase “racial reckoning.” They assume, not unreasonably, that I must have made up this alliterative term to make fun of the madness of the times.
Well, that would have signified a healthier intellectual discourse, but, instead, that was how it was.
I was hoping based on the thumbnail that this post would be describing a chance encounter with Sir Rod, who then announced himself a huge iSteve and HBD fan, resulting in a wild night on Sunset Strip and an agreement made in the hazy late hours that he would narrate your book.
Kinda cool. To continue your Paul McCartney thread, how likely is it that you've touched a doorknob that Rod Stewart touched? Then Rod Stewart likely touched a doorknob that Queen Elizabeth II touched. Which means QEII likely touched a doorknob that Sir John Russell touched. And Sir John Russell likely shook hands with Napolean Bonaparte. So there you go...Steve Sailer, 4 degrees of Kevin Bacon from Napolean. Oh, and BTW, isn't it Sir Rod Stewart? :-)