Ron currently had the crowd eating out of his hand. There were catcalls from a group of women in the front row when he did the voice he was best known for: a sexy Irish vampire named Seamus.
Sewanee had covered everything Mark had asked her to. Why do you think audiobooks are booming right now? How do you prepare to record a book? What is the best approach when recording a sex scene? Why people who out a narrator’s pseudonym should be publicly drawn and quartered. It was time to wrap it up, so she asked a question that would give the panel one last opportunity to shine. Why are Romance novels so popular? As each member answered, Sewanee’s spirits rose. She had done her job and done it well. Mark would be happy and the organizers pleased. She was looking forward to the night ahead with Adaku, who deserved to be celebrated, who deserved every goddamn ounce of success she was enjoying.
Ron was the last panelist to answer and, being Ron, didn’t disappoint. “Women are discovering the full extent of their pleasure. Shame is a thing of the past! Happily ever after is possible. It might even be sitting right in front of your eyes!” Then he winked at the audience.
“All right,” Sewanee said to the room. “Thank you, panelists, for your insights. We have a few minutes left, so let’s open it up to questions.”
One of the women in the front row jumped up and asked Ron if he’d sign her chest. Hoots all around. Ron obliged.
A woman a few rows back stood, took the mic. “Hi. I think I speak for all of us when I say: Who is Brock McNight?” The crowd cheered. “Seriously! We have to know.”
Ron made a show of zipping his lips and the rest of the panel shook their heads.
The next question was also about Brock McNight. As was the next. Then Sewanee said, “Any non-Brock-McNight-related questions?”
Someone had a question for Sewanee: “Do you narrate Romance?”
“No.” She realized it came out more emphatically than she’d intended. She beamed and pointed to the panel. “I leave that to the experts.”
“Sewanee does all the tough books,” Ron chimed in. “The ones no one else can touch. Fantasies with three hundred characters, war sagas with twenty different accents, the Classics, literary doorstops. The longer the better, the bigger the better, she does them all.”
“That’s what she said,” Sewanee quipped and the audience laughed. She’d learned long ago to leave them laughing; BlahBlah had taught her that. “Okay, so how about one more round of applause for our wonderful–”
Sewanee noticed a young, barrel-curled blonde stand and smooth her pretty sundress. She called out, “Sorry, y’all! One quicky little question?”
Sewanee glanced at the clock on the back wall as the floor mic made its way to the woman.
“Thanks so much,” the woman said. “And thanks so much for taking the time to come talk to us?” She had a significant Southern drawl. So significant Sewanee wondered, briefly, if she were putting it on. High, nasal, and with the propensity to uptalk. “Um, my question is? What’s the best way to get into the business?”
“I can give you more info at the booth,” Sewanee answered, “but once you’ve got a draft of your book you should be thinking about audio–”
“Oh, no!” the woman giggled. “I’m not an author! I’m an actress?”
Sewanee stalled, her brain misfiring.
Ron took the wheel. “Well, first thing you should do”–he leaned into the microphone and dipped into his Irish vampire voice–“is come see Seamus after the panel.”
“Ron,” Sewanee scolded, “Seamus on you!” The audience laughed. “Okay, everyone, thanks for–”
“I mean, I love reading?” The girl tucked her hair behind her ear and continued. “And I’m taking some acting classes in L.A.?” Oh God: they had one of those this isn’t a question so much as a comment people on their hands. “And, like, I don’t know, it just seems like the perfect job?”
Once again, a panelist saved Sewanee from having to respond. “Well,” Mildred began, “I tell people the best thing one can do, if one thinks this job might suit, is to go into a windowless room and read a book aloud, stopping at every mistake and starting again at the top of the sentence. Do this for eight hours and see if you still think it’s the perfect job.”
The audience chuckled. Sewanee silently thanked Mildred for the reality check.
“Listenin’ to y’all has made me realize,” the girl continued–continued!–“narrating Romance’d be real neat.”