My latest confession to you: I almost never read books anymore—at least not in the traditional way. Other than during the rare instance of air travel, I never have time to crack open a book. I’ve insisted for years that all serious writers are voracious readers, so how do I avoid hypocrisy? I’ve become an avid listener instead. I “read” with my ears.
I have an audiobook on while I exercise, get ready for the day, drive (despite working and writing from home, I somehow still find myself in the car each day), prepare meals, do housework, and so on. My hands are busy, my eyes are on the task at hand, but my ears are usually unoccupied, and my brain is eager for entertainment. Audiobooks fill the void nicely.
But I can’t listen to just any audiobook. The usual ingredients of story that grab me—compelling characters, an intriguing plot with stakes that matter, and engaging language—all must be there, but great audiobooks require an additional ingredient: an excellent narrator. Ideally, this will be someone who doesn’t just read the story but instead will act it out.
A talented voice actor can take a book that’s just okay and turn it into an experience you wouldn’t mind reliving. They can bring a great book to life, make you feel all the emotions the author intended, and add a little extra magic that engages all your senses, creating a transformational event you can’t stop thinking about. The characters become fixed in your mind, as if you were watching a movie.
I approached the narrator of Hardscrabble Road first about doing the sequel, but he’d just moved and hadn’t yet rebuilt his recording studio. When I posted a call for auditions to create the audiobook for Return to Hardscrabble Road, I knew I’d find another competent reader. And I received two dozen such audition recordings from narrators who capably read the script provided. However, I never expected the audition provided by Lon Harris. Southern through and through, Lon didn’t just read the script, he performed it. Humor, sarcasm, cunning, pettiness, affection, pain…whatever the dialog and narration called for, Lon nailed it. My wife, Kim, born in rural Georgia, declared, “You’re crazy if you don’t pick him. He’s the voice of my people.”
I might be crazy, but I’m not stupid (often). I selected Lon and was privileged to work with a true professional who recorded chapters quicker than I could review them. Along the way, he revealed that he knew the characters so well because they reminded him of the rowdy folks he grew up with. He was voicing his own people.
He’d try out a tone for a certain character and his instincts were almost always spot on. If a characterization didn’t quite work, though, he was already planning to re-record before I could send him any notes. For any changes I did ask for, he completed them promptly and always got the next iteration right. Not that he needed much direction—he possesses a keen knack for both drama and comedy and gave each scene exactly what was called for. The last line of the book—which I’m unabashedly proud of in print—received a delicate, wistful touch that sounds better than it reads.
I’m eager for you to hear Lon’s rendition of Return to Hardscrabble Road. You’ll be treated to a performance worthy of an award, not just a reading. He really is that good, folks. I’ve been procrastinating on my latest book, but now I want to write it ASAP so Lon can read it for all of us.