I’m in an enviable position right now. I have too many audiobooks on my phone.
I should back up and say that I have at least two audiobook apps on my phone at all times. Libby is my go-to and my sweet summer darling. I’ve got an eternal fountain of audiobook holds backlisted in OverDrive just so that my Libby cup never runneth dry. And so far, it has not.
Librivox is another one, but I have a tense relationship with the app. LibriVox is a free, nonprofit, public domain book recording and distribution website. I’m not sure if they also created the app. I’m guessing not. The app is free and works well, but it’s ad-supported. All right. OK. We do what we must to keep the lights on, and after all, the books are free.
The ads are for e-cigs.
Not sure where BookDesign got their demographic info if any research went into that decision. Maybe they just couldn’t get any other advertisers. I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter. Listening to a random woman gush about e-cigs after every chapter puts my teeth on edge. Call me an elitist if you must, but e-cigs are the filtereds of our generation and I do not at all believe that they help you to quit smoking. Neither does WebMD. However, there’s also no better way to burn through the classics than with the Librivox app. It even has Apple CarPlay compatibility. If I take up e-cigs, you’ll know why.
Finally, I listen to Libro.fm. I discussed this app when I reviewed Bill Bryson’s THE BODY a few posts ago. It’s the only platform I currently use where I’d pay for books, if that were something that I could afford to do on the regular. Luckily, I’m a librarian who writes voluminously about literature, and therefore, I get advance listener copies from Libro.fm for free. This is new and really, really something. I don’t even know that to do with myself, I’m so excited about it. I have Erin Morgenstern’s The Starless Sea: A Novel ready to go just as soon as I finish Dhalgren. (And oh, my friends, you’d better believe there will be a Dhalgren review.)
I must have five audiobooks all queued up and ready to inundate my ears. We’re talking solid days of literary wonder. That said, it’s worth mentioning why I listen to so much audio.
I don’t really have time to read.
That’s right! The book woman doesn’t have a minute to crack a cover. This is in part because I spend two-plus hours on the road each weekday driving to and from the library where I work. It also has plenty to do with my secondary job, vis a vis writing, which takes a lot of time. I’d scale back, but we do have this thing we like to do every month called “pay rent.” And, honestly, I love to write. I’d write all day if I could. If I could write about reading all day, I’d do that. And then I’d read too.
As things stand, I am but a hardworking librarian with a hefty side hustle, a situation that’s not unusual these days. What I’d really like to know is how many people find themselves in my position. Are we becoming a nation not just of overworked millennials, but of overworked millennial audiobook fans? Are changes in how we work leading to changes in how we read?
It makes you want to sit down with a nice e-cigarette and have a good, long think.
I’ve been a fan of Bryson’s since I was literally in middle school. My sisters and I listened to audiobooks together as a kind of collective bonding activity, especially during the rare moments during the summers when everyone was home from school, camp, work, and wherever else we were all constantly detained. A Walk in the Woods was one of our favorites, and I think I probably listened to it about 3.423 times. Not four, mind you – in fact, I doubt I ever finished it completely because whenever an errant sister returned from wherever she’d gone off to, we had to go back to the last place we’d all heard. Then there were some parts that were just lame, like any part where Bryson wasn’t doing dumb stuff in nature, so we eventually learned where those were and skipped those tapes. We listened to the bits we liked over and over, and the bits we particularly liked were the parts about Katz being an ass and saying “fuck” and Bryson being terrible at hiking. (I should mention that we were a hiking and camping family, as in *primitive* camping and hiking *for weeks.* We lived in a world where a child of ten could be trusted, even expected, to safely start a fire by themselves.)
That was the thing about A Walk In The Woods. There was some good info, particularly about the EPA, but the best part was listening to the author’s misadventures in Appalachia. Recently he’s departed somewhat from the personal approach, but in my opinion, that’s still his best writing.
It’s also my main objection to The Body: A Guide for Occupants. Bryson’s done a fine job with his research, especially for someone with no medical background, but there’s no hilarious personal experience here. It’s just a layperson’s rundown, punctuated by things about the human body that are baffling and unknown. Why do we sleep? Baffling! What does the appendix do? Unknown! Why do we need chromium? Baffling again! It’s a skim. The most interesting mysteries are left unexamined, and there’s not even any personal misadventures to distract us from those burning, unanswered questions.
I should mention that I listened to this book as an ALC I got from Libro.fm, my new bestest buddy on Earth. Because I’m a librarian and a Book Rioter, they’re giving me free advanced listener copies now, and because my commute consumes two hours of every single god-lovin’ weekday, I have plenty of time for listening. So listen I do! This is the first ALC I’ve tried, and I really do like the service. In my personal hagiography of book reading apps, it’s effectively competing with Libby and has blown Librivox clear out of the water.
Also, it allowed me to finish this book. If I didn’t chug through The Body in the car at double speed, I’d have stopped reading fifty pages in. It’s not that Bryson’s a bad writer. He’s still got it. The subject matter is interesting enough too. But this book has got very little of the funny above the level of incidentals and wordplay. It’s well-researched and entertaining enough for someone who knows practically nothing about their own horrifying body (vis a vis moi.) Still, I can’t help but wish I’d grabbed a newish Mary Roach instead. Incidentally, Bryson cites Roach twice and depends very much on other popsci and popmed nonfic as references. My reference librarian heart goes eehhhhhehhhhhhh.
Bryson is 66 years old now. Many of the people he discusses in the book, both historical figures and people of medical interest, have died around that age. Even though medical science will likely keep him alive for a good while yet, discussing death, as he does, appropriately, at the end, is a look straight in the face of the fact that human beings don’t last forever. I wonder how it felt for Bryson to pen this book. I know for a fact that it’d wig me out, and I’m still in my thirties. Here’s a story I’d have liked to read from this author: the body’s many fallacies and superpowers as seen through the lens of a well-regarded writer’s yet-distant but cresting mortality.
I’m not sorry that I got it. It’s a nice little repository of body trivia and now I know that you can actually put a catheter through your vein and guide it to all the way to your heart and actually touch your beating heart with it and your heart will not explode. Now off to give it a try!