For the sake of brevity and not to take up too much of the reader’s time, it’s FindAwayVoices. Specifically, a very poor and utterly dreadful experience with their Customer Care department that frankly didn’t seem to do much of a good job with the caring part.
The experience actually started with an account suspension, believe it or not. But we’ll get to that later. For now, I will say that it seems to me that this relatively new publishing company (after the acquisition by Spotify) is slowly but surely demonstrating hints and pieces of redeeming qualities that’ll in time, turn the initially bitter experience into one of those recollections one laughs at wryly.
More importantly, I wanted to take the opportunity in this post to explain why there isn’t sufficient buzz on the Audiobook and why it seems to only barely receive a whisper of mention. The reasons aren’t any more political then they are commercial. The answer is, quite simply, it was never intended to be a revenue stream.
An audiobook rendition of Gaza: An Inquest into its Martyrdom was an idea that first started a year after the book was published (basically, when I bought it). At the turn of the book’s third chapter, I practically ran over to the computer and wrote to Norman G. Finkelstein in an impassioned attempt to try and get his permission to record the audiobook. I did not know ANYTHING about Norman then except perhaps the viral “crocodile tears” video. What was written in the first quarter of that book, dinted with meticulous reference after reference was enough to radically rattle any foundation I thought I had on the subject, even though a lot of it was already implicitly there.
It was the revelation that divides knowing from truly knowing. And the rage that built within me at the criminality of so much omission of a people’s suffering from every conceivable angle overwhelmed me.
I wanted what Finkelstein wanted, to help preserve the memory of a people’s suffering. In his words, “the least that is owed”. An audiobook to make this information accessible felt like the right thing to do.
I had a low-key career in the performance arts, specifically spoken word and friends have often credited my voice. So a dream – nay – a whimsical fantasy of narrating had started development in my earlier years, but it only progressed as far as someone who for example had taken an interest in painting but never bothered to spend a penny on a canvas, let alone attempt any of it all.
So you can imagine my surprise when an answer came from Noman. Yes. Noman had doubts that such dense material would be of any person’s interest, but yes. I had the go ahead.
It did not happen. I was ill-equipped (in the literal sense) and did not have the resources at the time, but quietly made an oath that I would revisit the subject once I was in a better position. So much time had passed since then, I began to believe that I had dropped a ball I wasn’t even ready to pick up.
Four years later, October 7th happens. I saw what the rest of the world saw and the rage returned. I knew. I read (even more material about the subject then I care to admit). I couldn’t have possibly done anything, but no matter the odds, I was inevitably responsible as a member of the international community.
I write to Norman again. He said yes. I was asked to check with the University of California Press, but yes.
I practically hounded every email I could find until it was made clear to me that it was possible.
And so I did.
Though I should have at least known, I never imagined what an arduous task it was to read, record, edit and quality check an audio rendition of this book, let alone any book. Were it any different context, I would have never advised any first-time narrator to pick up something of this nature. To borrow Finkelstein’s phrase, “It was not a labor of love”.
In the time that it took me to figure out how compressions work, how to sound treat my room, the extent of which I’m allowed to apply de-reverbs, the merits of non-destructive editing (too little too late) and especially – how utterly unrealistic and unnecessary my sense of perfectionism was, I re-read the book approximately 9 times. All the pages, all the chapters, along with tables that juxtapose long texts against long texts – 9 times.
Safe to say, recording a forensic book – coupled with my ADHD – was an exhaustive course in sound engineering I never knew I needed.
Knowing the harrowing details of what the book explores, if this does not appear masochistic enough, I was actually contemplating a 2nd edition because I did not like certain bits that I heard while listening to it on Everand.
Fortunately, a reddit user who I shared this with had the sense to talk me out of it – for now.
“Find other important books.” He said
I took those words as my mandate. And while I continue to search and spread my wings, contacting publishing houses regarding potential opportunities, it occurred to me that I can also narrate other books. Stories.
And so here I am with TellTaleVos. Not the product of some long-term plan that began with Gaza. It simply happened.
So. What about that account suspension?
FindAwayVoices currently operates under the assumption that the narrator is the author – a recent change in their system. There was no field to attach legal rights documentation for the audiobook. The suspension came abruptly:
“Subject: Content Removal We received a report that Gaza: An Inquest into Its Martyrdom violates Findaway Voices Content Policy. As a result, your account has been suspended for violating Findaway Voices Terms of Use (“4. Your obligations and conduct”).”
It took weeks of follow-ups, frigid replies, and monastic patience before my account (and the audiobook) was released from digital imprisonment. The publication process across platforms took a month.
As for Audible? A claiming issue remained unresolved until I finally contacted ACX directly, practically begging for their intervention as FindAwayVoices seemed unable to communicate the problem effectively. Ironically, it was ACX that resolved a FindAwayVoices issue – a memory that still irritates me to recall.
Rest assured, dear listener (or reader of this blog), it shall find its way to Audible.
For the sake of brevity and not to take up too much of the reader’s time, it’s FindAwayVoices (an audiobook distribution company). Specifically, a very poor and utterly dreadful experience with their Customer Care department that frankly didn’t seem to do much of a good job with the caring part.
The experience started with an account suspension, believe it or not. But we’ll get to that later. For now, I will say that it seems to me that this relatively new publishing company (after the acquisition by Spotify) is slowly but surely demonstrating hints and pieces of redeeming qualities that’ll, in time, turn the initially bitter experience into one of those recollections one laughs at wryly.
More importantly, I wanted to take the opportunity in this post to explain why there isn’t sufficient buzz on the Audiobook and why it seems to only barely receive a whisper of mention. The reasons aren’t any more political than they are commercial. The answer is, quite simply, it was never intended to be a revenue stream.
An audiobook rendition of Gaza: An Inquest into its Martyrdom was an idea that first started a year after the book was published (basically, when I bought it). At the turn of the book’s third chapter, I practically ran over to the computer and wrote to Norman G. Finkelstein in an impassioned attempt to try and get his permission to record the audiobook. I did not know ANYTHING about Norman except perhaps the viral “crocodile tears” video. What was written in the first quarter of that book, filled with meticulous reference after reference, was enough to radically rattle any foundation I thought I had on the subject, even though a lot of it was implicitly there.
It was the revelation that divides knowing from truly knowing. The rage that built within me at the criminality of so much omission of a people’s suffering from every conceivable angle overwhelmed me.
I wanted what Finkelstein wanted, to help preserve the memory of a people’s suffering. In his words, it was “the least that is owed.” An audiobook to make this information accessible felt like the right thing to do.
I had a low-key career in the performance arts, specifically spoken word, and friends have often credited my voice. So a dream – nay – a whimsical fantasy of narrating had started development in my earlier years, but it only progressed as far as someone who, for example, had taken an interest in painting but never bothered to spend a penny on a canvas, let alone attempt any of it at all.
So you can imagine my surprise when an answer came from Norman. Yes. Norman had doubts that such dense material would be of any person’s interest, but yes. I had the go ahead.
It did not happen. I was ill-equipped (in the literal sense) and did not have the resources at the time, but quietly made an oath that I would revisit the subject once I was in a better position. So much time had passed since then, I began to believe that I had dropped a ball I wasn’t even ready to pick up.
Four years later, October 7th happens. I saw what the rest of the world saw and the rage returned. I knew. I read so much (even more material about the subject than I care to admit). I couldn’t have possibly done anything, but no matter the odds, I was inevitably responsible as a member of the international community.
I write to Norman again. He said yes. I was asked to check with the University of California Press, but yes.
I practically hounded every email I could find until it was made clear to me that it was possible.
And so I did.
Though I should have at least known, I never imagined what an arduous task it was to read, record, edit and quality check an audio rendition of this book, let alone any book. Were it any different context, I would have never advised any first-time narrator to pick up something of this nature. To borrow Finkelstein’s phrase, “It was not a labor of love”.
In the time that it took me to figure out how compressions work, how to sound treat my room, the extent to which I’m allowed to apply de-reverbs, the merits of non-destructive editing (too little too late), and especially – how utterly unrealistic and unnecessary my sense of perfectionism was, I re-read the book approximately 9 times. All the pages, all the chapters, along with tables that juxtapose long texts against long texts – 9 times.
Safe to say, recording a forensic book – coupled with my ADHD – was an exhaustive course in sound engineering I never knew I needed.
Knowing the harrowing details of what the book explores, if this does not appear masochistic enough, I was actually contemplating a 2nd edition because I did not like certain bits that I heard while listening to it on Everand.
Fortunately, a Reddit user who I shared this with had the sense to talk me out of it – for now.
“Find other important books,” he said.
I took those words as my mandate. And while I continue to search and spread my wings, contacting publishing houses regarding potential opportunities, it occurred to me that I can also narrate other books. Stories.
And so here I am with TellTaleVos. Not the product of some long-term plan that began with Gaza. It simply happened.
So. What about that account suspension?
FindAwayVoices currently operates under the assumption that the narrator is the author – a recent change in their system. There was no field to attach legal rights documentation for the audiobook. The suspension came abruptly:
“Subject: Content Removal
We received a report that Gaza: An Inquest into Its Martyrdom violates Findaway Voices Content Policy. As a result, your account has been suspended for violating Findaway Voices Terms of Use (“4. Your obligations and conduct”).”
It took weeks of follow-ups, frigid replies, and monastic patience before my account (and the audiobook) was released from digital imprisonment. The publication process across platforms took a month.
As for Audible? A claiming issue remained unresolved until I finally contacted ACX directly, practically begging for their intervention as FindAwayVoices seemed unable to communicate the problem effectively. Ironically, it was ACX that resolved a FindAwayVoices issue – a memory that still irritates me to recall.
Rest assured, dear listener (or reader of this blog), it shall find its way to Audible.
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