By Dick Hill
So my friend puts me in touch with a guy who asks if I want to be a contributor to this collaborative journal, Storytellers Unplugged. I’ve read some of his entries, and some from other folks, so I wasn’t totally unfamiliar with it. Write about writing? Not exactly the best fit, I thought. In the first place, I’m not a writer. I don’t write. Other than emails, an occasional letter to the editor, and last month a letter of recommendation for a good friend seeking tenure. (I got a real kick out of that one. Took me four and a half years, plus two summer school sessions to make it out of high school, and that was it for formal education and me. Truancy, minor crimes, boredom, lack of discipline, you name it. Just not cut out for school. So there I was, writing a letter explaining why I felt Dr. Michael Pal’o’mine should be granted tenure in the Department of Fancy Academic Stuff at a small midwestern college. I should point out that Michael does indeed teach and lecture about Fancy Academic Stuff, but he himself is not a Fancy Academic. Regular sort of guy. For a Brit. When he asked if I would write this thing, speaking as a professional of some regard in my definitely not chosen, more or less stumbled into, field, I was happy to oblige. Asked him if he had a preference as to what color crayon I used. But I digress.)
I have written some things for the stage, and they were produced, one even won a prize, but once I’d satisfied myself that yes, I could write a musical review, and yes I could write a successful straight play, I had no further interest. I don’t feel I have anything to share with the world that hasn’t already been said, and far better than I could ever manage, so my writing pretty much ground to a well deserved halt. I have some talent in that regard, (easy claim to make if you have no output for people to look at) but I am by no means a writer. As my aforementioned friend who nudged me toward this exercise has often said, writers write.
So just what is it I can offer to this journal? Well, I may not write, but I do read. I do it aloud. Into a microphone. It’s how I earn my living, and it’s a fairly decent one. I’m lucky enough to have stumbled into this work, which seems to be a perfect match for my talents and temperament. I’m lucky that critics and listeners and authors generally seem to feel I’m good at it. I have recorded a lot of books. From Twain and Steinbeck down to mystifyingly successful hacks whose names I wouldn’t share even if I hadn’t managed to erase them from my memory. When you record an audiobook, you are reading every single word, doing your best to find what’s of value and present it in the best way possible. Since you are reading every single word, savoring what’s delicious, trying to make up for what’s not as well prepared with superior plating and presentation, you notice a lot. A lot. Things that are filled with grace, things that are clumsy and misshapen. Things that lead you toward truth and beauty on paths you’d never have discovered on your own, things that limp and shuffle and walk blindly into walls, and expect you to follow. If the creators of those literary lumps could hear what sort of remarks are exchanged among the narrator and director and engineers as they deal with such things, they’d be appalled. And maybe, in some small way, enlightened, . The work may work 99.9 percent of the time, but all it takes is one pothole to make the reader stop and groan, deal with the sense of outrage at what the author has tried to foist upon him, or perhaps merely neglected to attend to, and fall out of that suspension of disbelief that I think is as necessary for readers as for theater audiences. Maybe if I share a few observations from the booth, they might serve to help aspiring, or even established, writers produce something that will flow more evenly, engage more completely, or at the very least, not offend. Then again, I may be fulla’ shit. Often am.
Some writer or other has said that he always ends his sessions by setting down a word or sentence that will be the start of his next day’s work. Can’t remember who it was, but he was an actual writer, and as such, knows a lot more about this stuff than I do, so I’ll take his advice, hoping that next month it will prove helpful to me. Jazz. Next month, jazz.
dick
10 Comments, Comment or Ping
Teresa
Hello, Dick. It’s nice to meet you. I think you’ll be a real asset to the group. It will be fascinationg to learn about the strenghths and weaknesses of writing from someone who ’speaks for others’ as it were. I’ve never bought an audio book before. I want my interpretation of the story’s pace and atmosphere and characters. If someone else does the reading how do I get that? I’m anxious to learn how you do your job and still leave room for my imagination to do its job.
Aug 30th, 2006
Rick Steinberg
I learned more about myself as a writer, and more about my writing by sitting in the studio and listening to those exchanges among the reader, the producer, and the engineer, than by anything else I’ve ever done outside he original writing event.
It’s amazing, really, just how much you can find out about your rhythms, sentence construction, story construction, characterizations, and such when you see what goes into the audio reader’s craft. It’s a perspective that I value so much that I continue to consult it today.
And as this first essay shows, this class of the field audio reader – and humble but extremely talented writer – has a lot to bring to all of us.
As for jazz, well . . .
I’m jazzed to read next month’s essay!
Aug 30th, 2006
Mark Rainey
Welcome, Dick. A fascinating field you’re in, from my point of view. I have to admit, from time to time, I’ve wondered about the readers on audiobooks. Do they make a living at it? Is it a lucrative sideline? How much and what kind of prep does one need to do to make a flawless reading. Great to have you here.
–M
Aug 30th, 2006
David Niall Wilson
I met Dick (first) through Rick after I reviewed one of Rick’s books (the audio version). As an avid reader of audio books, I can state without doubt that the chemistry between the reader and the characters / plot is as important, if not MORE important than the rapport the author has with those same elements.
I’ve heard good readres make bad books entertaining…bad narration ruin brilliant work…and on those rare, happy occasions, I have seen both spot on…
Dick has the ability that few narrators do to shift his voice just enough to give seperate life to each character and a level of depth to the reading tht more monotone narrators never reach.
I’m more of a blues fanatic than an aficianado of jazz, but I wait, eagerly, with the rest. Welcome, Dick…
DNW
Aug 30th, 2006
Sully
My, my, our black and white world of print has just acquired Technicolor. How very welcome. And if I’ve mixed the metaphor here, I’m hoping Dick is going to give us a lot of crossovers between abstract symbols on paper and the sounds and sights in our imaginations. Transcontinental welcome to you, sir.
– Sully (Thomas Sullivan)
Aug 30th, 2006
Frank Wydra
Hey Dick, Welcome–and great opening story.
” If the creators of those literary lumps could hear what sort of remarks are exchanged among the narrator and director and engineers as they deal with such things, they’d be appalled. And maybe, in some small way, enlightened.” Man, what a concept. As Rick said, we can probably learn more about wrting from the likes of you than from all the critics on the East Coast.
Looking forward to Jazz.
David, eat your heart out. Tonight I’m off to hear Buddy Guy, live.
Frank
Aug 30th, 2006
Janet Berliner
Hello, Dick. Welcome. A most enjoyable essay and you can definitely write.
I was a huge audiobook fan until my hearing went away to the land where hearing is stored. I link reading aloud to the rhythm of words and have always insisted that my students do it. I do it with a loudspeaker. Think of me as the spotted dog in the old RCA ‘His Master’s Voice’ ad. I wrote regular reviews for Audiobooks.com and was a judge for the Audies for several years, so I know your work and thank you for its excellence.
[About ears: Mengele linked the shape of Gypsy ears to inferiority.]
Janet
Aug 30th, 2006
Joseph
Welcome aboard, Dick. Glad to have you with us and I look forward to more of your unique perspective of this thing we do…
Best,
Joe
Aug 30th, 2006
John B. Rosenman
Welcome aboard, Dick. Great maiden piece. (Uh, I better rephrase that.) I mean, great maiden effort.
Your essay represents what I perhaps like best about this community: the seemingly endless, inexhaustible ways we can approach the broad subject of writing. Together, we are strong!
As for potholes and literary lumps — I have a lot in my work. I think I could learn a lot from you and your associates dissecting it. I did have one story, a 7450 tale published in Galaxy, recorded on audiotape. For some reason I’ve only listened to the first five minutes or so.
Anyway, I’m jazzed. And looking forward to future installments.
Aug 30th, 2006
Stan
Hi Dick,
Welcome aboard. I, too, look forward to hearing the perspective you bring to the art and craft of writing. We met briefly, Dick, in the Vegas airport. I believe that Rick introduced you as a ‘mogul’ … a titan of the audiobook industry, a first-class gentleman, and someone with keen insight to share. If this first outstanding piece is any indication, I am certain that all of that will be borne out in months to come.
Stan
Aug 30th, 2006
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