Recently, Jen at Devourer of Books held/started/came up with Audiobook Week and the audiobook love was to be found everywhere: Jen @ Devourer of Books obviously; Literate Housewife; Beth Fish Reads (and some older audiolove from Shelf Love).
I’m an audiobook newbie, preferring as I do greatly the written word to the spoken one (I gave up on attending lectures very early on in my university career, although in my third year at least I was in the library morning day and night with the textbooks and notes), and being a very fast reader, the idea of spending hours and hours listening to something I could read in 3 hours max just seems such a huge waste of time. I even tried out an audiobook – Helen Dunmore’s Counting the Stars, which I found tedious and unable to engage or hold my attention. I listened to another half hour of it the other night and realised that it’s basically just about a love affair in ancient Rome – not my cup of tea, even written down.
I was not a fan.
So, determined to recoup my cycling time as reading time, (I’ve complained in the past about how my newly-discovered passion for navigating London on two wheels deprives me of all that reading time sitting on the Underground) and remove some of the monotony from my hour’s cycle into work, I set off this morning with one non-noise-excluding earphone in my left ear, listening to Stef Penney’s The Tenderness of Wolves. Now. This is different kettle of aquatic creatures.
Firstly, one of the narrators has a Scottish accent. I married a Scot (not only for his accent, I hasten to add) and I watched Case Histories last night on iPlayer and sat enchanted listening to the Edinburgh brogues, so Sally Armstrong’s accent was nectar to my tired, traffic-noise-loaded ear.
Secondly, it’s a sort of murder mystery, coupled with historical North American settler drama, ooh and there’s a missing son, and two missing girls from fifteen years ago, and a daughter who died… the intrigue! How could I not get sucked in?
Anyway, off I pedalled… and it was wonderful! “Those poor girls” (who disappeared) had their story told as I battled up Chancery Lane hill (yes, I loathe hills of a morning!); Laurent Jamais’ gruesome murder was described as I cursed the street sweepers of Whitechapel who sweep broken glass from the footpath – into the bike path… The cycle was less tedious and the audiobook was something I could do while doing something else – and we all know how I love to multi-task.
I think I’m on to something here…