Falling into a story is an immersive experience; one paralleled to falling into the mystique of a carefully crafted illusion.
One facet of the storyline serves as the mining car tunneling deep into the depths of the fabricated world. As you travel physically deeper into the book, the connection to the pages grows to that of adoration, much like when you transfer from the use of an artist’s stage name to their personal first name as their performance progresses. An audiobook fundamentally changes that experience.
The audiobook version of The Night Circus creates the Inception equivalent experience for a novel. A circus that travels the world with interweaving narratives with such complexity and depth, its physical manifestation could hang along the tapestries crafted by Iroquois matriarchs. Jim Dale’s phonetically buttery voice smooths over the breaks in plotline just as DiCaprio’s good looks smoothed any frustration from lack of comprehension.
While a tangible connection to a story is something that can never be recreated poignantly, audiobooks are successfully creating a whole new cognitive experience. I am quickly finding myself craving it as I scan the carcass of a book.
Physical books will forever be M&Ms: nostalgic, classic, and dependable. Audiobooks are Almond M&Ms: a full-bodied twist that are insanely addictive.