the dulcet tones of my voice in your ear



I am often told that few people like the sound of their own voice. I am one of those who cringe when I hear my voice played back at me. I also cringe at photos of myself, so perhaps there are overall esteem issues at play here.

Anyhoo, my voice will soon be available to millions of people. My novel, Driftwood, will be available through Audible as an audiobook when it is released in November. I think I am the one who will be reading the book. If not, I really hope they get James Earl Jones. That’s my first choice. Or maybe Richard Simmons. Or Cydni Lauper. Or a robot.

That reminds me of when I was a child and my brother and I came home from school one day while my grandmother was showing our house to prospective buyers. (The house was on the market — she wasn’t just trying to sell it out from under us all, but that would make for a pretty good story). My brother and I walked in the front door and heard a digitized voice. My brother, all of about 7 years old, got wide eyed and looked at me with the most incredible look of excitement and joy.

“Grandma got me a ROBOT!!!” he glee-whispered.

Because, of course, that would be the most logical conclusion. Occam’s Razor and all that. Grandma must have stopped by the robot store and picked up a robot. That’s just what you did in the mid-80s. Everyone who was anyone had a robot and my brother was sure he was about to join those ranks.

We crept into the living room and found my grandmother sitting with an older couple. The man wore a baseball cap that said “WWII VET” on it and held his fingers to his throat.

“Well, hello there!”

My brother’s robot was actually a veteran with an electrolarynx, most likely due to throat cancer.

We sat and chatted with the couple for a bit, then excused ourselves to go outside and play. We got the basketball and began to shoot hoops. I was sure my brother was disappointed in not having a robot to call his own. Instead he said, “Man, I am so glad that guy didn’t hear me call him a robot. He would think I was an asshole.”

My brother was such a good little dude and he has grown up into a really good man.

Maybe he should be the one to read the book for the recording.

Author: elizabeth dutton

i traffic in words

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