There’s a microphone on my desk. It’s the illustrious Blue Yeti. Yesterday, my little boy pointed out that it looks like R2D2. He’s right. He’s also of an age where saying “R2D2” is still a bit of a stretch, so he just said “D2.” (C-3PO, by the way, he simply calls “threep”)
I’ve felt like the microphone has been giving me judgmental looks for a while now. Why? Because I’m supposed to be using it to make an audio book of my first two novels, but I haven’t yet. Just like some people have a face made for radio, I’ve started to think I might have a voice made for print.
It probably isn’t true, but then again, it just might be.
At any rate, I’ve procrastinated doing the recording for a long time. When the microphone first arrived, I just assumed I couldn’t get it working right. Tons of hours trying to set it up perfectly went down the tube. Then I sent it in for repairs, assuming that the microphone was faulty. More time (and money in shipping) gone. It was sent back (none too promptly) with an assurance that the microphone was fine.
Okay, so the next hurdle was finding either a quiet place or time to record. With two little kids at home, quiet is an abstract idea, not something ever known. The solution is to record outside the home. But I live in the middle of beautiful, rural no-where-land, and don’t fancy losing an hour to travel time for something that likely wouldn’t end up being ideal anyways.
The solution is to record in a quiet place outside. Sounds like a stretch, but I’ve actually picked a great spot. Final problem is that, since I’ve procrastinated so long, it is now winter. If I go to record right now, the audience is likely to hear my teeth chattering throughout.
But I’ll need to do something. Either do the dang recording, or put R2-D2 back in his little box. Because having him just sitting there, staring at me…it’s kind of distracting.