I’m not really sure what these monthly blog posts are for. My manager told me I needed to make them, so here I am: making them. Without GIFs or emojis or anything. Just me, doing them…

Are they supposed to be me imparting some existential wisdom to other writers? Or readers? Is the point to let others “get to know” me, like some diary entry where I foolishly get up close and personal, baring some deep-seated trauma from my past? How about instructional, propping myself up as some “expert” at something? Am I selling? If so, what? Myself? My work? Is it for an occasional rant?

Who knows? If you decide to visit my site monthly, you’ll agree it’s a mixed bag for me. But this month, for all you who dare to continue, it’s a bit of everything. Lucky you!

From here, I recommend a bottle of wine and a comfy chair.

For anyone who doesn’t already know, I’ve decided to journey into the world of audiobooks. Now, many of my contemporaries have strong feelings about them. Some for; some against. (Here’s the inside skinny: writers love to pontificate and disagree about everything literary. Don’t believe me? Get on “TwitteX” – it’ll always be Twitter to me – and search #WritingCommunity. You’ll see. We love to pose and debate all the topics…whether prologues are okay to use, why tropes should be avoided as much as adverbs, the maximum number of words allowed or you’re just a crap writer, which is better: pantsers or plotters?, the belief of some that professional editors are too expensive and therefore unnecessary. The list is endless.)

While I’m firmly in the “pro” audiobook camp in the #WritingComminty – after all, what about those who are disabled, have visual challenges, or perhaps love stories but don’t, or won’t, read? – my interests in audiobooks are twofold. Neither is based on the opinions of social media’s brilliant minds.

First off, I used to listen to old radio programs as a kid. I loved them. Later, when there were stories on cassette tapes, I enjoyed hearing the dramatic readings. Second, my childhood friend Marci has said for decades that, despite the fact that I named my protagonist’s best friend after her, she’d only commit to “reading” the Music is Murder saga if she didn’t, in fact, have to read it. In fairness, she’s spent years earning her doctorate in nursing, so she’s read and read and read. Either way, Marci almost singlehandedly convinced me to enter the fray of the burgeoning business that is audiobooks.

Before I get to the meat of this post, let’s step back and do a quick overview of some of the decisions all authors need to make when considering whether to make their work available for a listening audience. If this sounds daunting, well, it is…as it should be. I’ll try to keep it quick. I’m not defining the universe, here.

1. What type of audiobook do you want? Some may want a single narrator; some may prefer a “cast.” Each of these is a unique animal.

2. How to get the work done. There are basically three ways to get an audiobook voiced. You can partner with a company like Audible or AcademyVoices, which pairs authors with narrators. You can pay a freelancer(s). Or, you can do it yourself. Cost, experience, and equipment are considerations for each.

3. What’s the cost? This depends on the single vs. multiple narrators/actors, experience level, and word count.

4. Is there a simple method for estimating cost? Yes. There’s an “industry standard” rate for audiobook creation, which boils down to “pfh” – or, “per finished hour.” This means that, after the voicing, editing, and polishing are complete – when you have the finished product – how many “hours” of finished product do you have? The current range for audiobook narrators is $90 – $400 pfh, and can be calculated by taking your total word count and dividing it by the industry standard number of words read by an average narrator per hour (I’ve seen that Audible uses 9300 words read per hour; I’ve also seen others saying it’s 9400 words read per hour). The pfh fee range depends on things like quality and experience. If you want a popular, heavily sought after narrator who’s read for Pulitzer Prize-winning or NYT Best Selling authors, expect to pay higher than this range. Sometimes, much higher.

5. How does one pay a narrator? Depending on word count and who you have reading for you, it can be quite a business investment to make your books available in audiobook format. There are generally three ways to make this investment: find someone who’ll voice it in exchange for a percentage of up to 100% of the net royalties until the fee is paid off; find someone who’ll accept a portion of the fee in cash and then get the balance via royalties like the pervious option; pay outright for the whole kit and kaboodle and keep your royalties from day one.

Pros and Cons:

If you’re cash-poor or don’t want to fork over that much dough, the first two options may be the most attractive to you. However, unless you’re an established, reliably selling author, you likely won’t find anyone willing to go that first route (maybe not even the second).

If you do manage to negotiate a deal for the first or second options, it may be through a company like Audible, but they may also require some exclusivity to a certain platform, vendor, or distributor. (This blog post does not go into marketing details or distribution considerations.)

6. How does one find a narrator? If you go with someone like AcademyVoices, the company works with you not only on the fee but also sends a sample of your work to their stable of narrators, who then decide whether or not they’ll submit an audition for your consideration. I’m not entirely sure if Audible operates differently because I have reasons to avoid partnering with them (there are issues with their exclusivity requirements I’d rather avoid). Regardless, if you partner with a company to get the work done, they’ll help you find your narrator or point you in the right direction.

Colleges are another route one may decide to take for voice talent. Particularly those seeking an entire cast of characters. Drama departments with eager students who might find it thrilling or lucrative or good for their resume. An advantage there may be a favorable deal and some good equipment at their disposal. Ya gotta start somewhere, right? A great talent with no-or-minimal credentials means you as the author don’t have to pay the high end of the average pfh fee range. Win-win!

You can also decide to go somewhere like Fiverr, where there are many narrators to listen to in order to make your decision – perhaps reach out to several that sound good and see if they’ll voice a sample for you. The narrators often post their rates, but if you reach out and give them your book’s deets, they can respond with a custom offer.

Another possibility is to research narrators on your own. Perhaps you’ve listened to audiobooks and have someone in mind. Perhaps you’ll go listen to books like yours or in your genre to find someone who does a good job.

Lastly, if you have a professional voice and good equipment, you can do it yourself. If I had the voice for it, I know I would. I’d get the equipment and go to town.

Anyway, those are the basics. I could do more “pros and cons” for the various sections, but this post is already long and I haven’t even started my rant…yet.

One thing I would caution prospective audiobook authors to keep in mind is: there’s a huge difference between a “narrator” and a “voice actor.” These terms are used interchangeably when discussing audiobooks, but be careful. Would you want the guy who voices the Arby’s commercial to read a highly dramatic love scene in your work? Just sayin’. A narrator reads copy with a certain inflection – mostly, straight reads. Perhaps nonfiction work. A “voice actor” reads to present a “theater of the mind” storytelling that immerses a listener. Tugs at the heart. “I felt I was there.” Evokes emotion. Makes you fall in love with the bad boy. Makes you forgive the unthinkable. Makes you stay up way too late to see what happens next. A good voice actor may even make a marginally entertaining novel something extraordinary.

Narrators and voice actors are different. Keep that in mind when you ask for and receive auditions. You want someone with sufficient range to do your characters, and their world, justice. It’s all in the delivery, folks.

So, whew! Finally! You’ve identified your ideal narrator(s). You’ve got your budget. You’re eager to start!

Wait.

I cannot sufficiently stress the importance of putting a solid contract in place. One that not only captures every bit of the understanding between you and your narrator (or their company), but also states clearly what the production schedule is, what the process entails, and includes a reasonable termination clause. All companies and freelancers will send you a contract that favors them. Of course they will. It’s up to you to ensure your needs and expectations are represented. And have a lawyer look it over before you sign, even if everything seems up to snuff.

Look … I know. This is a long post. You’re probably either bored by now, drunk from the wine I suggested earlier, or wondering if I’ll ever get to my main point (which, by the way, isn’t to lecture you).

Remember at the beginning, some sixteen hundred words ago, where I said I was getting into the whole audiobook thing?

Yeah. Maybe revisit the title of this post.

I found this narrator a year ago. He had a great voice. Before him, I’d tried unsuccessfully to find someone on AcademyVoices, who quoted me what I thought was a very favorable (or at least reasonable) rate. From there, I moved on to Fiverr. Now, before you laugh or cringe, I’ve found many great actors to voice my characters for my trailers & spots. Notably, the amazing David Piper, who does all my non-character narration. So, I’m generally a fan of Fiverr for specific things.

While browsing for character voices, I stumbled upon this guy. I really liked his voice, so I contacted him to ask about his experience, his rate, etc. I told him where I was in the process and how AcademyVoices wasn’t really working out for me.

When this guy responded, he was very enthusiastic. He touted his credentials (almost exclusively nonfiction), said he’d been looking for fiction he could “sink my teeth into,” and countered the rate AcademyVoices offered by over a thousand dollars. Sweet!

Still, I wanted to be sure. I told him I was looking for an “a-list” product that reflected the high drama of the saga. Full stop. It’d be too easy to make my saga read like a caricature since it’s set in the music industry and “soapy” in nature (many characters, complex dramatic situations, etc.).

Over the next few months, life happened. A family vacation. An in-law in the hospital. Life stuff. Yet this guy regularly followed up with me, reminding me he how excited he was to discuss further, saying he planned to hire a dialect coach in order to properly voice my many accented characters (British, French, Cuban, Haitian, Southern, etc.). Eventually, life settled down. I had him read a sample portion of a scene from one of my chapters. Although I found some issues – specifically with pacing and the characters, it just felt like he’d be okay. I sent his sample to two people who agreed that, with some direction, he’d probably do a great job.

From here, I made several bad decisions. That’s why I urge you to review the numbered considerations above before you make similar mistakes.

First, I’ve spent my literary career listening to well-meaning people insist my books are too long. Only in the last year or so have I realized that this is often because genre fiction is strict in its acceptable word count range. I also realized I don’t write genre fiction. Today’s Heather O’Brien eschews “experts” who imply that a book’s worth is based on word count. I write stories, not an approved number of “words.” But that’s another post for another time. Regrettably, when I chose this narrator, I still had the echoes of those “word count shamers” bouncing around the recesses of my brain.

Second, I’ll admit that the one thing I dislike about Fiverr is their strict parameters regarding work completion. While in many cases that’s great, I was concerned that their mandatory timeline might cause my guy to rush the project and therefore not deliver the quality I’d clearly stated I need.

You probably suspect where I’m going with this.

Yes. It was my idea to move the gig off Fiverr and deal with this guy directly. Fiverr would not approve. And based sheerly on the outcome, I wouldn’t suggest anyone else do it. Sure, the guy I hired was geographically close, had some credentials, and spent four months chasing the gig. But still. Bad move.

During the subsequent contract phase, I made tons of mistakes. Despite having had a two-decade career in healthcare, of which a good ten years involved my (successfully) negotiating multi-million-dollar contracts with doctors, physicians, hospitals, and Pharma, I failed utterly when it came to negotiating my own audiobook contract. I did. I failed. I let the guy negotiate a higher rate. It went all the way back up to what AcademyVoices offered, PLUS royalty considerations for an additional amount equal to that rate. The voices of the “word count shamers” in my brain argued on his behalf that the books were long, the plot complex, and the characters deep.

I let him send me the contract instead of sending him one. I requested far too few revisions and did not protect my interests. The basic timeframe in which to finish the four books included no specific production schedule, quality considerations, etc. The list is endless.

Looking back, however, my biggest failure was discernment. I didn’t realize until later that while I loved his voice, all the samples I received were for nonfiction books. That means no dialogue.

Big difference.

But hey – he’s a professional, right? He’s got experience. He’s going to hire a dialect coach, right? And when he subsequently friended me on Facebook, he wrote this post about how excited he was, how he was going to post updates as the project progressed, that getting the gig handed him the single best narrator day he’d ever had, and that the author was amazing!

Whatever.

Here’s what happened:

He never hired a dialect coach.

There were zero updates as the project progressed.

After reading book 1 (the contract was for all four current books in the saga), he asked me only one question: about the relationship between two brothers. I’d sent him a spreadsheet of the characters, with their ages and traits, along with recommendations for the way the primary characters sounded “in my head,” some pronunciation clarifications for character names, and told him to let me know if he wanted or needed anything else. I emphasized repeatedly that this was a highly dramatic story and should be voiced accordingly.

In December 2023, I began making monthly payments for the cash portion. In January, because I wasn’t yet used to doing the monthly payment, he contacted me on the first to remind me. Whoops. My bad. And I sent it. Unless it had to do with money, I rarely heard from him.

In mid-March, I realized there are some characters in books 2&3 whose names needed pronunciation clarification. I contacted him to let him know. At that time, he said he was going to send me book 1 the next week.

Didn’t happen.

On June 3^rd, I received book 1 for review. Now, this was a bit concerning. The agreed upon contract term for the entire project was nine months, with a possible three-month extension if necessary. Yet, I was just receiving book 1 after seven months. Hmm.

He explained he was sending “raw files” and disclaimed that there would be some clean up before they were finalized. Okay. Whatever. I had no idea what to expect. Honestly, I was more concerned about characters, pacing, the dramatic read, etc.

Within the first paragraph of the first chapter, I knew there were problems. He had an odd way of stepping on the wrong words in a sentence.

Example:

He would have been prepared for …

vs.

He would have been prepared for …

We all know the meaning of a sentence can change depending on which words are emphasized. There’s a lyricism, cadence, timbre to the words we read out loud. At least there should be.

From beginning to end, what I received was chockful of these errors in the narration. It’s not sporadic. It’s constant, unintuitive, and changes much of what’s intended. As a result, many pivotal scenes became anticlimactic or downright cartoonish.

Tons of omitted, changed, altered words. Dialogue tags gone. Entire sentences missing. Sometimes, several lines missing.

One chapter cuts out halfway through. All there is, is air for the rest of the chapter’s runtime.

A lot of background noise, intakes of breath, and clicking.

Chapter 12 was completely missing. The file said “chapter 12” but Chapter 13 is what plays.

In Chapter 23, an entire section of dialogue abruptly cuts off halfway through. Line after line just stops abruptly at about half the line.

Periodically, he’d start a line, then stop, then start again from the beginning. He left those start-stops in. He couldn’t have listened to the files prior to sending them. Even if the files are “raw files,” it stands to reason they should be pretty much ready to go. If they’re not, why send them? How might any narrator expect to get the thumbs up on a production where the “raw files” are so shockingly flawed?

Characters are inconsistent and aren’t unique – they not only don’t sound like their age or ethnicity, they don’t sound like themselves from one piece of dialogue to the next. In chapter 1, my talk show host sounds ditzy and unprofessional; later, in chapter 30, she’s suddenly Southern. British characters are badly voiced by an American clearly doing a fake British accent. One British character in one scene goes from sounding like an old, posh Brit to a Cockney Brit to John Lennon’s Liverpudlian accent within a few lines. Each of those accents are different. They sound different, even if one doesn’t have an ear to discern different areas of England. (I’d told him to basically play all the Brits straight and not worry about regional differences).

Minorities don’t sound like minorities. Sometimes, they sound British (when they shouldn’t). Sometimes, Southern (though they’re not). Sometimes, just gravelly and uncompelling – but not like minorities.

As bad as this is, I can say without reservation that the worst was the way EVERY woman was voiced. Accent or not, every woman in the book sounded screechy, pitchy, brainless, and oblivious to the mood of the given scene. Too often, hyper-emotional. Frankly, it was offensive.

Narrative was often boring. There were extreme pace issues. Not one compelling scene. Even I, as the author, was wholly unmoved and unengaged. I routed for no one. I fell in love with neither of the males in my love triangle. As a listener, I felt nothing. Nothing except my desperation to stop listening, especially to my protagonist and her best friend. I couldn’t take the high-pitch, clueless caricatures of whoever they were supposed to be.

It’s the worst, most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever had the misfortune to have to hear.

Yes, you must divorce yourself from how you hear your characters “in your head.” It simply doesn’t work that way. But that’s not the problem here. The problem is that listeners want to be moved. They want to be “in” the book. They want to follow it beyond book one and through the entire saga. They want to root for the characters, or hate them. They want to gasp, or rage, or cry, or fall in love. They want to feel.

Not one thing about this deliverable was professional. It was a total of 16 finished hours, but took this guy seven months to reach me. Incomplete.

I spent three weeks meticulously going through the audio files, pointing out the errors and how they needed to be fixed. And the more I logged and commented, the angrier I got.

Prior to my going to Florida in mid-June, I sent him a letter telling him not to record the missing chapter 12 and to hold off starting book 2 until we figured out things for book 1 because I anticipated having a lot of notes once I got through listening. I told him I’d have notes to him around July 15^th.

He never responded.

After going through my emails upon my return, I was surprised he hadn’t responded to my letter. So much so, I withheld July’s payment. THAT got his attention. He emailed me on the 4^th of July to say, “Hey, when are you going to send the notes? I’m ready to start fixing any errors! And oh – can you please send me July’s payment?”

I responded that I’d withheld it because I hadn’t heard back from him on my previous letter and didn’t know, based on its content, whether he intended to continue on. I said, again, that he’d have the notes around July 15^th, and agreed to go ahead and send the payment.

Another mistake, I know. But I didn’t want to be the one in breach of the contract, ya know?

He never responded to that second letter/email either.

I proceeded to make detailed notes in the Word version of the manuscript, did a timestamp spreadsheet to help point out specific errors, etc. In addition, I wrote an overview of my impression of the deliverable he sent me.

I’ll be honest. It wasn’t flowery. It was professional, though, and detailed my very grave concerns.

In it, I told him I didn’t honestly believe it could be fixed. I was very disappointed. But I gave him a specific list of things that needed to be done to get back on track, and said he could keep $1000.00 of what we’d agreed to if he wanted to just call it quits. Given that in seven months he’d only sent me a partially completed book 1 (of 4), which contained tons of quality errors, it seemed fair.

Welp, I finally got a response. In it, he said I was a control freak, that he would not fix anything but the “actual” errors (omitted/changed words and lines), and that he had agreed to a “bargain basement” fee. He insisted that I’d cost him work because he was turning down other work to do mine, and that it was all basically my fault. He also said he wouldn’t be refunding any monies because I’d contracted him to do all four books in the project. He outright rejected the idea that there was a quality issue. Further, he said he would only continue with the project if I gave him “total artistic control” of the content.

No apology. No offer to get together to discuss fixing things. No regret that I found his work to be so poor. Nothing but denial and indignation.

So, no. No more.

I stewed on it a good bit. Discussed my options with my manager and my husband. I could have sued him. No narrator on the planet would consider this a professional reading. I can’t imagine a court would either. Bad contract or not, he obviously hadn’t produced anything close to what I’d clearly requested in our initial conversation on Fiverr. However, it’d cost me additional money to sue. And there would be the issue of collecting the refund (and the attorney’s fees) once I got the judgment. Was I confident I’d win? Hell yes. This man touted himself as an “expert” in audiobook narration, chased down the gig to secure it, stated he would be hiring a dialect coach, gave me his process, etc. He did not deliver on any front.

Instead? I decided to walk. I sent him a final letter on August 1^st, stating he was fired. (You may rightly guess that he never responded to that email.)

What I’m left with is eight-thousand dollars gone from my bank account. I’ll never see that money again. For that, I received 31½ chapters of a badly voiced book 1. We’d agreed on a fee of twenty thousand dollars for the four books – half that amount in cash and half via royalties. For those curious about how this shakes out with the whole “per finished hour” calculation, it comes out to a total of 64 finished hours, at a rate of $312.50 pfh. That’s what he claims is a “bargain basement price” – despite the fact that, in reality, it’s near the top of the range for an experienced narrator.

He’s not worth half that, to be honest. He’s not an expert, despite how he describes himself. He’s okay for narration, but only nonfiction. Worse, if you listen to the books he’s voiced, he has the same tone for everything he does. No vocal range. Zero instinct as to the pleasing flow of the spoken word. He isn’t “talented.” He’s not a “storyteller.” He knows zip about theater of the mind. He’s no actor. Well, perhaps he could voice cartoon characters.

Hindsight’s 20/20, huh?

Ultimately, I have the files and do intend to release bits of them as I share with anyone who’ll listen just how bad his performance was. Even if the files were complete and I got all 33 chapters of book 1, I could never put it up for sale. As-is, it’d be a career killer. It’s that bad.

So, I’ll be posting bits & pieces here and there. You’ll hear for yourself the embarrassment of what he did to my decades of hard work. He made it a mockery. I had the overwhelming sense that he never took the story seriously. That he hates women or has no clue how they sound. But hey. He sure scammed me. How proud he must be.

For anyone looking for a narrator, I would caution against hiring this guy. And while I have zero concerns about issues of slander or libel because I’ve carefully documented everything, I only choose not to name him here because that’s not me. If you want to know who he is, I’m more than happy to tell you. Just reach out to me on social media.

Mine is a cautionary tale for all authors dipping their toes into the audiobook pool. It warns: “don’t be like Heather.” I freely admit where I went wrong. Yet my mistakes were made in good faith. His, not so much.

A quality narrator reads-reads-reads each book. Makes copious notes. Asks questions. Even sends you a list of characters they want clarification on – and possibly even a copy of the manuscript with notes on typos they find (if any). There are a ton of things I’ve seen other narrators say they do for their clients. Mine simply submitted files that were junk, seven months into the contract term. Then, he called me a control freak when I pointed out the problems. He also stated he wouldn’t read the other three books before voicing them because it would take too long.

In closing, I just want to reiterate that I shared this nightmare, not only to warn anyone who might be considering him to voice their work, but also to encourage authors to do their due diligence before hiring someone to narrate their books. Remember: unlike your epub or print versions, an audio version is the last take. You can’t go in and edit years later if you find a typo or something. It essentially bakes the book forever. Everything matters. Every detail. Take the time to do it right.

My advice? Find someone with a lot of experience. Listen fully to their work. Request a representative sample of your book as part of the audition. Ask them about their process. And make sure you put one hell of a good contract in place once you decide to move forward. Ensure your interests are protected. Include issues of quality. Production schedules. Turnaround time for edits. Remedies for breach.

There’s no reason to set such low expectations – no matter what that voice in your head may say to the contrary. This is a business. Your business. Always go with the professional. It’s worth the extra effort (and perhaps the extra cash) to do it right. And if it’s not done right, it’s important that you have ways to cure the breach.

That’s my eight thousand dollars’ worth.