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Chapter 180 – Preparing for the Audiobook
🕑 Added 2025-09-20 17:14:06 +0000 UTC
The moment word got out in publishing circles that Audrey Hepburn was interested in lending her voice to an audiobook, Henry didn’t even need to do the legwork. Publishing houses came knocking on their own.
Even her longtime talent agency—always handling her public engagements—arrived with a stack of carefully curated options. Every strength and weakness had been neatly summarized. Henry didn’t have to compile a single piece of data himself; the agents had done it all.
The reason for such enthusiasm was simple: among audiobook genres, children’s literature was the top seller. And paired with Audrey Hepburn’s golden name, it was obvious to anyone—this was a guaranteed profit venture.
But most of the old colleagues who had worked smoothly with Hepburn in the past had either retired or stepped back. The files were all prepared by newcomers. The veterans were there as door-openers, not active handlers.
So while the material laid out before her was detailed, it lacked the distilled emphasis Hepburn was accustomed to. It left her dizzy-eyed from all the choices.
Taking off her reading glasses, she set the stack aside. The young agent across from her quickly asked:
“Miss Hepburn, have you decided which publisher you’d like to work with?”
“Sorry, I haven’t yet,” Hepburn said with an apologetic smile. Then she called to the young man tinkering with other matters nearby.
“Henry, come take a look and give me your opinion.”
Introduced earlier as her assistant, Henry walked over. The agent felt a stab of competitiveness but restrained himself. It wouldn’t do to show up a client’s assistant in front of her.
Henry’s first instinct was to let the agents showcase their preparation—this was their job, after all. But since his employer had asked, he naturally couldn’t refuse.
He flipped through the publishers’ files at a speed that looked to others like a cursory glance, though in truth his mind was already forming an idea.
“Boss,” Henry began, “these publishers all have solid credentials. In terms of capital, infrastructure, and market performance, they’re about the same. So I’d suggest we look at it from another angle.”
Audrey tilted her head. “What kind of angle?”
“What stories you want to tell—and how these publishers can support that.”
Seeing confusion on their faces, Henry elaborated:
“Now, I don’t know the ins and outs of publishing, so take this just as an idea. Audiobooks aren’t like original literature. We’re narrating existing stories. If you simply read well-known children’s tales, what about copyright issues?
“The original Grimm or Andersen tales aren’t always suited for kids. Most versions are edited or rewritten. So whether a publisher’s catalog already includes usable, cleared versions matters a lot.
“If their copyright library is robust, great. If not, can they secure the rights to stories you choose? And beyond classics, should we also consider modern works?
“Maybe this is something editors can handle at the production stage, whichever publisher we pick. If so, chalk my words up as unnecessary rambling.”
Did the library back home hold all the world’s knowledge? What a joke. Of course not.
There were always things outsiders couldn’t know—sometimes even insiders at different companies worked under completely different rules and cultures. No one wrote such nuances in a book for the public.
So no matter how much Henry had read, he was still blind to the finer details. All he could do was toss out his thoughts.
But before anyone else could weigh in, Henry continued:
“And don’t forget, Boss—your greatest strength isn’t just your voice. You’re an actress. An Academy Award–winning actress.”
Audrey chuckled, a little bemused. “And what does that mean? Do you expect me to perform these like radio plays?”
The moment she said it, she paused—because maybe, just maybe, that was the point.
“Could that work?” she asked, curious now.
Henry grinned. “No one’s done it, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be done. But I don’t think you should shoulder everything yourself. Just like in film, you’d focus on acting.
“We’d still need a director, sound engineers, composers—creative staff. And of course, a good script. So the question is, which publishers are willing to propose such a project?
“Some may lose interest, but those who stay would bring concrete production plans. Reviewing them would be no different from reviewing film scripts. Choosing whom to work with—that’s something you know better than anyone.”
Audrey turned to the agent. “Would this be possible?”
Sensing her gaze, the young man nodded quickly.
“If this is your request, Miss Hepburn, I’ll relay it to the publishers and filter for those willing to collaborate.”
Though her box office pull was long past its peak, her stature gave her every right to set conditions. The agent’s job was to negotiate on her behalf, not the other way around.
“Good,” Hepburn said firmly. “Please pursue that line of discussion with the publishers.”
She was no stranger to drawn-out negotiations. Of course she didn’t expect results in one round. That was why agents earned their commissions—to handle such talks.
And the response came faster than expected. By the next afternoon, the agency returned with two representatives to meet Hepburn at the hotel café.
They hadn’t come empty-handed either—their folders were thick with proposals, not just pretty words about ideals.
