There are few things in life as humbling as watching an AI narrator absolutely fumble your words with full confidence—like a cat knocking a glass off the table while making unwavering eye contact.
And yet, after the Saga of Martin and Mary, after every mispronounced coiffed, every aggressively Greek agahpay, and the emotional rollercoaster that was Martin’s spectacular rise and fall, I stepped into my next audiobook project, Vitae, with cautious optimism.
This time, I went British. I won’t lie—I braced myself for another war of wills. I’d seen too much. I knew too much. But to my surprise, Vitae was… dare I say… a breeze?
The British narrator read through my novel so smoothly, so effortlessly, I almost felt cheated. No mid-sentence existential crises. No dramatic reinterpretations of the English language. No wild stabs in the dark at pronunciation. Just clean, controlled storytelling.
Of course, there were still a few minor quirks—no AI narrator is perfect—but compared to the chaotic energy Martin brought to Duality? This was like gliding through a cloud of chamomile tea and good decisions.
And that’s when it hit me:
Maybe I had underestimated the sheer randomness of AI narration. Maybe Duality wasn’t just difficult for Martin because of his personality—maybe it was the book itself. The pacing, the dialogue, the intensity—perhaps it was just too much for him to handle. And suddenly, I had to wonder…
Would I have the same issues with my third book? Would Martin once again rise from the ashes, ready to butcher a new set of words with that special brand of AI confidence?
I prepared myself. I knew the stakes.
But I didn’t prepare for Mary.
Because while Martin was waiting in the wings, perhaps sharpening his digital tongue for another round, Mary swooped in from the ether and snatched Hey, Roomie! right out from under him.
I didn’t choose Mary. She chose me. Or rather, she chose this book. And against all odds, she actually pulled it off.
Now, before we start thinking this is some kind of AI redemption arc, let’s be real—this wasn’t an act of loyalty or growth. No, Mary saw an opportunity and took it. Hey, Roomie! was a completely different book from Duality, and maybe that’s why she managed to stick the landing where she once faltered.
And that, dear readers, is the real lesson here:
AI narration is a gamble, but one worth taking.
Despite all the mispronunciations, the bizarre pauses, the overconfident butchering of simple words, AI narration still has its merits—and they’re hard to ignore.
It’s cost-effective. Hiring a human narrator can be incredibly expensive, and if you’re an indie author, AI provides an affordable way to get your work into audio format.
It’s efficient. No back-and-forth scheduling, no endless takes. You tweak, you adjust, you finalize.
It’s constantly improving. Yes, Martin and Mary have their quirks, but AI voices are evolving. With each project, I learn new ways to work with them, rather than against them.
And maybe that’s the real takeaway: AI narration isn’t about control—it’s about adaptation.
Some books will be a battle (*looking at you, Duality). Some will be smooth sailing (Vitae, you beautiful angel). Some will have an unexpected narrator swoop in from the shadows and claim them for their own (Hey, Roomie!—I see you, Mary).
At the end of the day, I’ve learned that every book is different, and every AI narrator brings something new to the table—whether I like it or not.
But one thing’s for sure…
Martin’s probably somewhere, waiting.
And I’m watching him very carefully.
