Month: October 2015

How and Where to Publish an Audio Version of your Short Story – Part 2

Here is the feedback that I promised in Part 1. I made use of services on Fiverr in order to develop my audio story: Belongings in the Sand: The Tale of the Red-Heeled Shoes.

My voice over specialist was James Blackburn a UK voice over artist, who was fast and an absolute pleasure to work with. For any voice over work you might need, I would highly recommend James. Here is a sample audio on Soundcloud, where I have also made use of the buy button.

My cover art for the CD was created by Sabrina Gennari from Fiverr. Her work is fantastic and she also redesigned the cover for my ebook on Amazon. My collaboration with Sabrina was great, with open communication and she was responsive to suggestions and requests. See the images below:

Front12x12_300dpi (1)

back15x12_300dpi (1)

I then began looking around for ways to publish the audio and where this could be done as an independent publisher. This was very difficult. Audible is not available in South Africa, so I had to find other ways. Many sites are now no longer accepting submissions from independent publishers. So I looked at distributing it through music sites, as spoken word. I looked at CDBaby and Tunecore.

I chose Tunecore. My audio story needed to be distributed as an album, because it is 27 minutes long. This will cost you US29.99 for the first year and US49.99 for the second year. It cost me in total  45US for distribution to the following stores, plus Facebook Audio Recognition and Youtube Music Key revenue gathering:  YouTube Music Key, iTunes, (not available in South Africa), Apple Music, Spotify, Amazon Music, Google Play, Rdio, Deezeer, xbox music, eMusic, Symfy Africa, iheart radio, Mixradio, medianet, VerveLife, Tidal, Gracenote, 7digital,  Juke, JB HiFi, Slacker, Guvera, KKbox, Akazoo,  Anghami, Spinlet, Neurotic Media, Yandex, Target Music, ClaroMusica, Zvooq, Saaven, 8tracks, NMusic, Amazon on Demand.

See my screen shots below:

tunecore screen shot 2

tunecore screen shot1

Here are screenshots of the other stores I have found the audio story in:








amazon mp3

I have then published the audio story myself on:

Gumroad a very easy interface and user friendly site.

Sellfy easy to use.

Ambling books they were fantastic and uploaded quickly after only one query:

ambling books 1

ambling books 2

I am monitoring the other stores for the distribution of the audio story. I will keep you updated in another post.

I am inquiring into Scribd and this is in process, since they now accept audio stories and books. It was not possible to use Selz in South Africa. Big Cartel and Pully were confusing. EJunkie requires a US 5 per month fee for 20 products or less. I am also exploring TeachOutLoud, but this is not final yet.

I hope that my experiences are of use to you in your quest to publish your audio story or book.




S: How um you’ve spoken to me about this story before, but relate it here.

C: Um, well look if you, if you, if you think about what my experience was like spending my days like in the sunshine, in the lucerne fields, which were so lush, and feeding the pigs, and you know, noticing how sensitive the pigs were, and uh, how friendly they were and they would come up to me with their little snouts, and they’d investigate me. And uh, uh I always have had a very strong connection with animals from the time I was very, very young. It was never taught to me, it was just a natural connection that I had. So I was spending my days with the living creatures that I encountered on the farm and it was nothing complex, it was the pigs, it was the, the ants and I remember playing with little leaves in the stream and watching the sheep and the lambs gambolling, and the little lambs I remember how amazed I was, they had these little, little long tails. Their tails hadn’t been docked yet.

And then, one morning, we were walking towards, this sort of corralled off area. You know, and I mean the Afrikaans families they didn’t really speak to you as a child. You know, you were seen and not, you were seen and not heard. And I don’t know how much you were even seen. I mean they knew I was there but they didn’t really notice me, except when I was running off with animals and causing havoc. But I remember, we were just walking along, I don’t know why they didn’t warn me or have the sensitivity to think I’m a city child, I’m, I’m young, I must have been nine, maybe ten, I can’t remember, quite young. Um, we were walking towards the sheep and I remember that feeling I had of happiness seeing them, I, I loved their wooliness and um, the way that they were. And they went in and grabbed one and dragged it by its hind legs and I remember just feeling such a sense of brutalisation, it was just I, I was literally riveted to the spot, I couldn’t believe that I was actually witnessing this kind of, I regarded it as extremely brutal to grab an animal by its hind leg and drag it, you know.

And then, the next thing, they took out a knife and they, it was literally next to me, I mean, I don’t know how they actually could have done that, but anyway. (pause) And I remember first of all the mouth struggling to breathe, and the shock in the animal’s eyes I mean, literally next to me. Was, (crying) so overpowering, the shock of realising I’m dying, you know, this is, I can’t breathe, and seeing it struggle and the, the blood is flowing and then just watch the, hear the sounds, the gurgling sounds and watched the light go out of its eyes (crying). (pause) It’s (sigh) it was terrible. You know and it was so bizarre because, look they grew up on the farm for them it’s normal. You know they slaughtered for the table, they slaughtered for commerce, to make money to live. I suppose, so…

S: You said it was the moment that kind of changed your life?

C: Yeah it did, it made me question everything. I mean I suppose I was too young to be questioning things like that, (laugh). Life, and death and animals and their place in the world and human beings and how they interacted with them. It was terrible. (crying)

S: Can I get you a tissue.

C: No it’s OK. I’ll just (laugh) And I mean I remember them taking it to the back of the house and they hung it up. And I saw some parts of that I don’t know why I even looked. And they stripped it and, and then the worst horror is, it was presented on the table. And now what must you do?

S: Did you eat?

C: No.

S: You didn’t?

C: But I had to. Because it was a very strict household and you were expected to clean your plate. So I had a dilemma. And that’s where I learnt to be sly. I cut the meat into little pieces and I fed it to the dog under the table, which was the only way I could survive that moment. I couldn’t eat it. And I never ate (pause) lamb or mutton ever again.

Image Wikimedia: “Point Buchon Trail sheep” by Teddy Llovet – Point Buchon Trail. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Commons –…

Poetry of Perception ~ “Artistic Ruminations on the Nature of Sensation”

I discovered this amazing channel on Vimeo on the Poetry of Perception. Eight parts, four of which are online here

“How do we perceive the world? This is a question that neuroscience has long sought to tackle, but which poets and artists have pursued even longer. HarvardX’s Fundamentals of Neuroscience ( presents 8 artistic ruminations on the nature of sensation.”

Here is 2, all are worth a watch:

Words by Emily Dickinson
Animation by Hannah Jacobs
Narration by Anna Martine
Sound + Music by Oswald Skillbard
Produced by Nadja Oertelt

A Valley Existing for it’s Own Sake ~ Piketberg, West Coast, Western Cape


Coming through the Piekenierskloof Pass on the N7 tonight, at around 6:25pm, from Lambert’s Bay, the sun was setting on the Piketberg valley below. Awash with golden light, the grasses and farms shone in shades of yellow, brown and gold, with touches of red. The warmth of the light created a glow, seeming to suggest that the valley existed purely for its own pleasure and not for the farmers who had created the fields. There was a kind of vibration of peacefulness and perfection, as if nothing painful could touch such beauty, in that moment unsurpassed. The rounded forms of sheep, grey and moving, walking with direction and pure purpose, created eddies of dust, stirred by their feet, in the otherwise undisturbed and silent valley, interrupted only by the occasional windmill. A moment of breathtaking beauty, so sweet.

I attach the eerie sound of the windmill half forgotten from childhood holidays, spent on karoo sheep farms. City girl, listening, with eyes wide open, to the singing metal whine, in the cold and pitch dark:

“A recording of a metal windmill. You can hear the resonant sounds of a metal pole slowly going up and down, lightly rubbing on a metallic disc, changing in tempo, pitch and volume with the slight breeze that was powering the windmill.”

Here is a Vimeo video with the sound and the wind:

Listen to the windmill here from just as I remember it.

Image from Pinterest Kansas by Mary Sue Sander 

The Ineffable – somewhere I have never travelled – e. e. cummings

The ineffable, unspoken, unspeakable, beautifully filmed by fabnor and spoken by Kamal. The poem of e. e. cummings, just beautiful.

// Shot in Copenhaguen
// Model : Annie,
// Poem by E. E. Cummings, read by Kamal

“somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands.”