The Danger of Audiobooks
- Apr 7
- 4 min read
By Jocie McKade
Before I was a writer, I was a reader, and I still am. One of the best ways to read used to be by listening to audiobooks. Yes, I said ‘used to‘. I’ve had a couple of incidents that, well, let me just say that audiobooks should come with warning labels.
“Warning: Do not operate lawn equipment while listening to this audiobook.”
“Warning: You could look like an insane woman while listening to this audiobook.”
“Warning: Thriller writers do this on purpose to scare the beejeebees out of you.”
Did you know some audiobooks have sound effects? Not those nice, lovely romantic background music sound effects no, but insidious sounds.
Living on a farm in the boonies, and use a tractor to mow. Instead of just idly driving around in circles, I see this as an opportunity to multi-task. This, of course, leads me to believe I can listen to a bestseller, a self-help book, or learn a foreign language whilst mowing.
A friend lent me a Tom Clancy audiobook, SSN. It is an older release from Clancy. For those who aren’t familiar with this book, it takes place aboard the U.S. submarine USS Cheyenne and leads to an epic battle with China. The reader on the audiobook was good, and I could hear him over the mower - bonus! I made a pass down the front field as the story started, smiling with the intro music that reminded me of old radio shows. Then a second voice sounded, female. Either this audiobook had two readers, or the man was really good at doing a female voice. Then I heard it, the familiar Hollywood binging that always sounds on a submarine in the movies. I’ve never been on a sub and have no desire to be on one, so I accept that sound as true. Bing! Bing! The sonar sounded. Cool! Sound effects! I finished a dozen more passes, then the Chinese submarine showed up. They were stealthy; they were cunning, and they were deadly.
The mower slowed as I listened to the details. Bing! Everyone on the Cheyenne was holding their breath—silence. Bing! Crap, I nearly jumped off the tractor. I angled toward the south side of the barn. The grass was higher here, which made me slow down even more. Bing! Bing!
Suddenly they were lined up for attack and just as a torpedo was launched, I ran over a piece of chain that was lurking in the grass.
The torpedo hit, the blades clanked against the chain, pieces of metal sparked in the grass; I screamed and ducked. My nose hit the steering wheel. I shut off the blades, but forgot the engine as I bailed off the mower.
The kill-switch shut the tractor down. My knees slammed the ground, skinning them both. The dogs began howling, and my hubby nearly had a heart attack running to see what was attacking me.
“What happened?” He asked, out of breath.
“The Chinese launched a torpedo.” I answered, matter-of-factly.
“What?” His eyes went skyward. “A bomb?”
“No, not a bomb, a torpedo.” He offered a hand to get up, looking at the poor broken tractor.
“Maybe you should get out of the heat and go have some water.” I growled and went to get some bandages for my knees, pinching my nose to stop the bleeding and cussing Tom Clancy under my breath.
This was not an isolated audiobook incident.
Listening to an audiobook as I did my weekly grocery shopping—I seriously believe I can do multiple things at once without screwing one or more of them up.
A man walked toward me dressed in an expensive suit, spit-shined loafers, and carrying a briefcase. I haven’t seen a man in a suit in that little grocery—ever. Shiny loafers in a town who thinks asphalt is a luxury?
James Rollins and I, (it was his book playing) followed this stranger. He stopped in the wine aisle and read a label. I picked up a bottle of wine. (Listening as Seichan - character in novel, trying to escape from underwater cave). The man glanced my way. I looked at the label. (The cave was presenting a problem for the character in the book, and was the good guy going to rescue her? She’d been trying to kill him.) Then, a well-dressed woman approached the briefcase man. She was all dark blue wool suit, sensible low-heeled pumps and an annoyingly perfect bun. Giving the briefcase man a nod. He followed her to the front door.
Was I watching a clandestine exchange of classified documents? I followed them toward the door. He handed her the briefcase.
They parted, walking to separate cars. Snapping a pic of her license plate number, I turned to grab a picture of his when a character in the audiobook started shooting people and a man on a muffler-less motorcycle fired the engine to life. The motorcycle erupted in a volley of horrific backfires. I screamed and headed for cover behind the carts lined up at the door.
Secret agents in this town? Maybe. But since I couldn’t save the world, or even follow two strangers across a parking lot, I grabbed my abandoned cart and checked out. Seriously, audiobooks need a warning label. (Note: Turn off the audiobook when sitting at a stoplight next to the sheriff.)
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