There’s a good chance the voice in that audio book is a Denver actor
Denver is home to two of the seven private studios around the country that record audiobooks for the National Library Service.

Mare Trevathan sits before the book she's recording on tape for the National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped. (Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite)
Quite a few ofĀ Denver’s actors and performers have a rare day job: They’re the voices ofĀ the federal program that popularizedĀ talking books.
The city is home to two of the seven private studios around the country that record audiobooks for theĀ National Library Service. The titles go out to an audience of more than 800,000 people who can’t use printed books. Among some listeners, the narrators are celebrities.

Kristin Allison records a book with the assistance of Larry Wells. (Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite)
You might think reading is an easy job.
That wouldĀ change sometime in your third straight hour of saying words out loud.
Each time you mess up a phrase, or a pronunciation, or an accent, your helpfulĀ colleague the producer playsĀ it right back for you.
“It’s quite humbling,” says Mare Trevathan, settling in forĀ aĀ Monday afternoon recording session at Books To Life.
This was her 300th book āĀ the legal drama Corrupted.Ā Two nights earlier,Ā she was playingĀ a badass abbess atĀ the Colorado Shakespeare Festival. A lot of the same skills come into play, but it’s not the same game. Even Shakespeare’s longest works can’t compare to the sheer number of words an actor might deliver from your typical novel.

A copy of "The Nine Lives of Jacob Tibbs" at Books to Life in Englewood. (Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite)
AlmostĀ everything the listener hears comes from the narrator’s first take.
A research team reads ahead of the actor, preparing notes about pronunciations and other details. The narrator scrolls through those details on a tablet as they turn the pages of the book itself.
Otherwise, they’re essentially acting out the script in real time.
There’s no skimming ahead, no speeding through sections. Each bit of punctuationĀ is an instruction, each quotation mark a shift in tone. Trevathan subtly acts out the lines, herĀ hands dancing from side to side as she reads by the light of a single lamp.
“After a while, you do enter a sort of natural rhythm of sorts, or yeah, a meditative state,” says Jack Bouchard, Trevathan’s monitor for the day.
I watch them record, and they do lock into sync āĀ sometimes Trevathan only needs to say “errrr,” before Bouchard is rewinding her back to the exact spot she wants.
“It’s a weird kind of mind meld,” the actorĀ says.

Mare Trevathan stands in the sound booth where she's recording a book for the National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped. (Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite)
People have been listening to audiobooksĀ for more than 80 years, and this service madeĀ some of the first.
TheĀ U.S. Congress created the National Library Service, part of the Library of Congress, in 1931. Within two years,Ā about 5,000 talking-book machines were on order for 17 different states.
At first, a single book might come onĀ 10 or more special records, before the transition to cassettes. The U.S. program never adopted CDs butĀ shifted in the last couple years to a digital device that can play audiobooks from the internet. (The devices are also designed for useĀ by quadriplegic people and others with significant physical disabilities.)
Today, the $50 million program has about 150,000 audiobooksĀ andĀ publishes 58 audio magazines, plus 68,000 titles in braille. Its content goes to an audience of more than 800,000, all of whomĀ areĀ limited in their ability toĀ see printed text orĀ otherwise use a book.
The rise of digital audio has been a boon to the program ā a significant portion of the narrationĀ is donated by commercial audiobook producers ābut the service still relies heavily onĀ studios and actors in Denver and around the country.
Through the years,Ā NLSĀ narrators have developed a particular style.
“The Library (of Congress) has always wanted to keep these things more narrative,” Maxwell says, as compared to theĀ elaborately produced, multi-actor productions starting to emerge from commercial services.
Over time,Ā though, the style has loosenedĀ a bit.
“It went from people who just had fine voices, intoning words and reading like an announcer, to being more populated with actors,” Trevathan says.
The goal, according to Maxwell: “Make it interesting and engaging, but you want to leave some room for the unsighted or handicapped listener to use their imagination.”

Jake Williams records a book reading for the National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped. (Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite)
And ifĀ you do it right,Ā you become a niche celebrity.
Nine people record regularlyĀ at Books To Life, and more atĀ Talking Books Publishers.
Some are actors, while othersĀ work forĀ Colorado Public Radio. Jill Ferris, who in the 1950s was Denver’s best-loved “weather girl,” is a regular at Books To Life.
So, the narrators tend to live public lives already āĀ but they enjoy a very particular kind of fame in the world of audiobooks.
“They’re like movie stars,” says Heidi Cluff, production manager for Books to Life.Ā “Many listeners, they have their favorites. There’s a lot of people āĀ they grew up with it. It’s their TV.”