It has recently occurred to me that I don’t listen to audio books any more.
I used to listen to them am lot, when I lived in Australia; mostly in the car.
My introduction to quite a few classics was via a voice telling me a story as I drove long distances from the small bush town where I grew up to… well… to almost anywhere.
I played those audio books on the cassette tape player in my car … and the actual tapes themselves are long gone. But not the memories…
I had Douglas Fairbanks reading The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope. It was a favourite. Rudolf Rassendyll’s adventures in Ruritania never got old. Or maybe they do. I haven’t listened to the book since my old tape broke, and I have never read it. Perhaps it’s time I did.
Another favourite was Under Milk Wood by the great Dylan Thomas. Written as a play for voices, it was perfect for an audio book. My version featured the amazing Richard Burton… what a great voice he had.
And what about Vincent Price and Basil Rathbone reading Edgar Allen Poe. A combination of words and voice to send chills down a spine.
I think probably the most important thing to me with these audio books , and the others I listened to, were the voices. The readers were terrific actors who had the most mesmerizing voices. Richard Burton remains my favourite. His voice was so strong and smart and sexy!
I have been reminded of them by the release of my own books in audio format, read by Australian Actress Federay Holmes, who has the right accent for my words.
I keep a few books on my phone to read if I get stuck somewhere while not carrying a book. I think I need to download a few audio books as well. I think that might be a great way to spend a train journey… gazing out the window at the passing countryside, while some classic adventure is played out inside my head.