Starr Love Audiobook Round 2: The Patel Motel
Stack 15
Good Saturday morning to you all from the world-famous Patel Motel.
Ok, not really. But if you’re familiar with the book, you’ll get the joke. If not, I highly recommend checking out Murder at the Patel Motel. I say that because, as I checked in on Thursday, I couldn’t help but notice that every health certificate on the walls near the front desk had the name Patel on them. Seemed like the universe was trying to tell me something.
If you’ve been following along, you know I made my first attempt at recording the Starr Love audiobook a few weeks ago. What I didn’t fully account for was five dogs with strong opinions about microphones. I managed to squeeze in about four chapters between three and five in the morning while they slept. Then they wandered in one by one and parked themselves right next to me, snoring into an expensive microphone like they owned the place. It was equal parts creepy and hilarious. That session taught me one thing clearly: I needed a different plan.
So, on Thursday, I checked into a hotel. A motel, actually. I’m not a fan of hotels. I’ll be checking out later this morning. Three days, just me, my gear, and blessed silence. No dogs. No leaky studio. No excuses.
About that studio, by the way. It developed a leak last fall and is still not in a usable state. Everything that plugs in direct has migrated up to my office in the house, which works fine for the music I normally make. But recording vocals or narration for a commercial release requires actual quiet, and quiet is not something my house does particularly well these days. A rented room solves that problem neatly. I can work until I drop, pass out, wake up, and go right back at it. Win and win.
Before I checked in, I visited their website to confirm there was elevator access because of a bad knee situation I have right now, and I admit I looked at the reviews while I was there. What I found was a wall of complaints. Roaches. Poor maintenance. Dirty rooms. Rude staff. I started getting excited. Route 66 motel quality on I-20 in Texas? Could it be?
Well, yes and no.
No roaches. I was genuinely glad about that. I can deal with a lot of things, but when you’re holed up in a room for several days and eating all your meals there, roaches are where I draw the line. The room was actually clean, and the bed was surprisingly comfortable. As for the maintenance issues, those were delivered exactly as promised. Mirrors just leaning against the walls where they used to hang. Lamp shades missing screws, wobbling in the breeze. Missing dresser drawers. Light fixtures half attached to the ceiling. An ironing board with no pad, just the bare wire frame. A microwave where only half the buttons worked.
I’ve never understood why owners of places like this don’t do the simple stuff. None of it is expensive or complicated. Hang the mirrors back up. Tighten the lamp shades. It would take less than an hour and probably cost less than ten bucks. I’d bet they could charge more than fifty bucks a night and get better reviews if they just did the basics. But anyway. Dim the lights, and it was exactly as creepy as I needed it to be for a story that centers around a basement. Perfect recording atmosphere, honestly.
As for the staff, my gut says the negative reviews had more to do with this part of Texas being what it is than with anything the Patels actually did wrong. The three people I dealt with were courteous and helpful when I needed something. Not overly outgoing, but neither am I, and I prefer it that way. At a place like this, you’re not paying to have your ass kissed. You’re paying to be left alone. They left me alone. Four stars.
I added a note when I booked asking for a room away from elevators, housekeeping, vending machines, and the bar. If you’ve ever had a room next to any of those things, you know. The only thing louder is rooming next to a cheer squad, which I have done more than once, and those were not quiet nights. They honored the request, and I scouted the room for the best recording setup.
There was a table. It was wobbly, but it was a table. I moved it to where I thought would be the quietest corner of the room. Great spot. But… no outlet anywhere near it, and my cables weren’t long enough to reach the one plug by the front door. So, I moved it all back. Plugged everything in. Went to power up. Nothing. No power from the outlet at all.
I poked around, getting a little frustrated, and found a light switch I assumed was for the porch light. Flipped it on a whim and BAM. Power. We were in business.
Well, until I realized I’d forgotten my HDMI cable for the second monitor. I use one screen for the recording software and one for reading the text. Not impossible on one screen, but not easy either. Then I looked at the TV on the wall, noticed it was HD, pulled the HDMI cable right out of the back of it, and plugged it into my laptop. Mobile studio, ret-to-go.
Now, about why I wanted to narrate this myself.
I’ve had audiobooks released before, and the narrators did a solid job. Professional and capable. But they didn’t know the nuances. They didn’t know which lines were supposed to land as funny, which ones needed to sting a little, or which ones had to be delivered completely straight to work at all. That’s a lot to hand off to someone who didn’t live the material.
What pushed me toward trying it myself was John Waters. I love the way he narrates his own books. He knows exactly where the joke is, when to let something breathe, and when to push through. The tone is always exactly right because it’s his tone. Nobody else could do it the same way, and nobody should try.
The recording went well, I think. I recorded a lot of material and haven’t had time to listen back yet, but overall I feel good about it. Dimming the lights and trying to become these characters I created was a genuinely strange and fun experience. I can’t tell you how many takes I lost because I cracked myself up trying to find a voice for Rowdy. For the record, he ended up as a combination of Joe Exotic and the imaginary voice I use for my dog Sipsey. Sipsey’s got the wang and Joe’s got that twang, baby!
There were a few hiccups, though. Moving the table put me closer to the AC unit than I wanted, so I wound up killing the compressor and just ran the fan while recording. Still noisier than it should have been, though. And somewhere outside, there was a bird nest. Every once in a while, I’d catch chirping in my headphones. I kind of liked it, honestly. But it probably shouldn’t be there.
Whether all of it is usable is something I’ll find out in the coming days when I start editing. Audible is very picky about audio quality, so that one’s going to be a test. Bandcamp is much more forgiving. I plan on having it available at both places, and I’m fairly confident that with enough processing, I can clean it up enough for all platforms. I’ll know more about that soon.
This week, I’ll be editing the audiobook, overhauling my website, and trying to dive back into the new story I’ve been working on.
In other words, same circus. Different tent. More road ahead next week — make yours a good one.
Jeff