Skip to main content

More Audiobook Musings

I recently wrote about Brooke Shields’ latest book (Brooke Shields is not Allowed to Get Old) and how much of it resonated with me as someone going through many of the same changes. But it also made me think and reflect on just how different the lives of some folks are from mine, especially those who have experienced fame in one form or another. What is that like? What does it do to a person?

I was so touched by the thoughts and musings shared by Shields that I wanted to check out There Was a Little Girl, the book she wrote about her life in the public eye and experience dealing with an alcoholic parent. But this time, I wanted to listen to it on audiobook, especially since it is read by Shields herself. I have found that books that are read by the author really convey the emotion and nuances of the writing, particularly when they are memoirs. I mean, how can they not? That person is reliving past events all over again – both the good and the not so good times.

This is what I felt while listening to There Was a Little Girl. You could hear the range of feelings Shields wished to express – from elation, excitement and surprise to anger, frustration and disappointment. Her life was by no means cookie cutter. She was largely raised by her alcoholic mother who was devoted and loving, yet extremely overbearing and unpredictable. The mother-daughter relationship they formed was a tight unit where Shields was sheltered and thrust into the spotlight at the same time. Revered for her beauty, she began modeling at a young age and then moved into acting.

Anyone who has ever had a family member who suffers from addiction knows how the disease cascades down into the lives of others. And for Shields it was magnified since she was the one dealing with it the most. Reliving this must have been difficult for her to write and then once again resurrect for the audiobook version. But her openness about all of it was refreshing to hear, and no doubt therapeutic for her. This is something I often think about when an author writes a memoir that also comes out on audiobook. What is it like reading (out loud) what you wrote? Especially some of the intimate details. Is it painful, joyful, exhausting, even embarrassing? All of these?

This is something I asked Javier Zamora when he was a guest at Rutgers for an author talk in June 2023. Listening to his book Solito allowed me to hear the specific Spanish accents and the enunciation in his voice relaying the dizzying array of emotions and sensations he went through, including fear, hunger, thirst, sadness, anger and hope. I recall him saying that he didn’t think it would be such a long process (and an emotionally draining one) when he read the book for publication.

Another author I have enjoyed on audiobook is journalist and political commentator Anderson Cooper, having listened to his books Vanderbilt and Astor. Both were enlightening in terms of subject matter and the detail of research included. Vanderbilt especially had many personal ties, as he relayed his own experiences growing up as a member of this famous family, and a childhood and upbringing that were often on public display, not unlike Shields’. He also had a close relationship with an unconventional mother and even modeled when he was younger. He also suffered much loss, with the death of his father and brother. All of this is conveyed in his book, which he reads with candor and deep emotion.

My takeaway from these books: We all experience things that affect us throughout our lives, no matter where we come from. I try not to judge people and always learn from others. It reminds me of the quote (the exact origin unknown) and often said in different ways, but the meaning is the same: “Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.”

Read more on the engaging benefits of audiobooks (and the platforms to access them) in this recent Books We Read post by Judit Ward: Audiobooks from the Public Library


Rutgers Libraries content of interest to the topics discussed: