🎙️ My Slightly Awkward Fling with AI Audiobooks

If you're the kind of person who breaks into hives at the mention of AI, I have one gentle suggestion for you: maybe go pour yourself a cup of tea and skip this post. No hard feelings—I’ll see you next week when I’m talking about Papillon dogs or haunted attics or something wholesome like that.

BUT… if you’re curious about what happens when an indie author who usually handcrafts her audiobooks like they’re artisanal sourdough decides to flirt with artificial intelligence… well, pull up a chair.

It all started when KDP (that’s Kindle Direct Publishing for the uninitiated—Amazon’s indie author arm) invited me into a beta program to test their brand-new virtual audiobook creation tool. You read that right: AI voices reading your book aloud. It’s like giving your manuscript to a robot and asking it to sound dramatic, heartbroken, or mildly sarcastic.

Now let me preface this by saying—I DO record my own audiobooks. I have a cozy little studio set up, microphones that cost more than my first car, digital audio workstation software that crashes just enough to keep things interesting, and even a soundproofing setup that makes my dog side-eye me like I’m slowly turning into a bat.

But here's the thing: I write in different genres. My cozy mysteries? Totally fine with my own voice—warm, quirky, and just the right amount of “this woman owns too many teapots.” But my thrillers? Yeah… not so much. There’s only so much gravitas I can inject into a scene where a tech billionaire’s secrets are unraveling before dawn.

I even tried to rope in my husband (also known as my CFO advisor, proofreader, and reluctant beta listener) to read the thriller parts. Let’s just say it takes a lot of dedication to try that. We love him anyway.

So, I thought: why not try this AI thing? Worst-case scenario, I unpublish it and blame it on a Mercury retrograde.

Now, if you’ve never worked with a virtual voice studio, imagine operating a vending machine that gives notes. There aren’t many controls. You can adjust the speed, throw in a dramatic pause, or tweak pronunciation—but that's it. Need to emphasize a word? Good luck. Want the voice to understand that “read” is pronounced two different ways depending on the tense? Time to get creative. I spent more time whispering, “No, not like that!” at my laptop than I care to admit.

And no, it’s not “push a button and boom—instant audiobook.” You have to listen through the entire book multiple times. Yes. The entire book. Because just when you think it's perfect, the voice says “data” like it’s about to fight you in a dark alley, and you have to fix it.

But here's the twist: It’s actually… not bad. For a beta program, it’s surprisingly impressive. If you’re an indie author, you know how hard it can be to justify an audiobook when you don’t have a $5,000 budget lying around under the couch cushions. This gives an option. A real one.

I priced the virtual voice audiobooks accordingly—because while it’s not a full human performance, it’s also not someone mumbling through your story while doing the dishes. And my cozy mysteries? Oh, those I will always read myself, with joy and slightly dramatic pauses and the occasional blooper reel. Because I love them.

But if you’ve made it this far and enjoy audiobooks, why not give it a shot? You’ve got very little to lose—except maybe the image of me yelling “EMPHASIZE THE DARN VERB” at a waveform on my screen.

👉 Curious? Take a listen here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0F3Z1BN88/

Let me know what you think - I'd totally like to know!

The Encyclopedia Was Our Google — And Dad Was Our Search Engine

You know you’re not a digital native when the word “research” makes you smell paper and hear the satisfying thud of a heavy book landing on a table. Welcome to my childhood, where curiosity was rewarded not with Wi-Fi, but with a stack of alphabetically-organized mystery bricks called encyclopedias . Let me take you back. The year? Somewhere in the analog era. The place? Our living room, where we had the entire Bertelsmann encyclopedia collection proudly displayed like it was the crown jewel of human knowledge. We didn’t just own knowledge—we subscribed to it. One glorious volume arrived each month, like an academic advent calendar for nerdy children. Volume “A” to “Z,” with deep sighs of longing in between. I swear, I still remember the day Volume “P” arrived. I rushed to the mailbox like I was expecting a letter from a secret admirer. Nope. Just got the lowdown on Photosynthesis and Peru. But did that stop me from doing a dramatic reading of it over dinner? No, it did not. M...

The Glamorous Life of a Writer (Or, Mostly Just Staring at a Screen)

There’s a persistent rumor floating around that writers live thrilling, adventure-filled lives. Perhaps it’s all the dramatic author portraits on book jackets—moody, windswept, staring off into the distance as if contemplating the fate of the world. Perhaps it’s the movies, where writers are always dashing off to Paris to write the next great novel in a charming café (suspiciously never interrupted by spotty Wi-Fi or overpriced croissants). I hate to break it to you, but real writing? Not quite so cinematic. In reality, my writing days mostly involve staring intensely at my screen, willing the words to appear through sheer force of will. Occasionally, I engage in deep philosophical debates with myself—such as whether my protagonist should turn left or right down a hallway (the fate of the fictional world depends on it). And let’s not forget the highly intellectual process of naming characters, which can take hours because somehow every single name I think of is either the name of ...

The Absolute Madness of Naming Characters

Let’s talk about one of the most ridiculous struggles of writing a book. No, I’m not talking about the part where you stare at the blinking cursor like it personally insulted your ancestors. I’m talking about naming characters. It should be easy, right? Just slap a name on them and move on? Oh, my sweet summer child. If only. See, naming a character is like naming your kid—except worse, because nobody is going to complain if your kid and their cousin both end up being named Liam. But if your main villain is named Liam and you accidentally give the quirky coffee shop owner in book three the same name? Cue the existential crisis. Let’s walk through the madness. The Overthinking Spiral of Doom You start writing, and there’s that moment: your brand-new character walks onto the page, full of potential. All they need is a name. A simple name. Something strong, something fitting, something— Oh no. Nothing sounds right. This one is too complicated. That one is too simple. ...

Thinkingdog Publishing

Search This Blog