Audiobook Sample
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- Title: Book Woman’s Daughter: A Novel
- Author: Kim Michele Richardson
- Narrator: Katie Schorr
- Length: 10:29:38
- Version: Abridged
- Release Date: 03/05/2022
- Publisher: Blackstone Audiobooks
- Genre: Fiction & Literature, Historical Fiction, General, Contemporary Women
- ISBN13: 9.78E+12
The moment Katie Schorr’s voice first crackled through my headphones – rich as hickory smoke, warm as a quilt-lined hollow – I knew I was in for something special. Kim Michele Richardson’s ‘Book Woman’s Daughter’ doesn’t just tell Honey Lovett’s story; it transports you to the mist-clung hollers of 1950s Kentucky with the intimacy of a front porch confession. As someone who’s chased stories from Oaxaca’s mountain villages to the Mongolian steppes, I recognized that rare alchemy when place becomes a living character, and narration becomes an act of preservation.
Richardson’s sequel to ‘The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek’ unfolds like a hand-stitched map of human resilience. Honey Lovett, daughter of the famous blue-skinned packhorse librarian, must navigate prejudice and poverty while continuing her mother’s book delivery route. The author’s anthropological eye (which resonates with my NYU training) shines in depicting the social hierarchies of Appalachia – where literacy becomes both weapon and salvation, and where the ‘Kentucky blue’ Fugates face discrimination that echoes the racial dynamics I’ve documented in my travels through Latin America’s mestizo communities.
Schorr’s narration is a masterclass in oral storytelling. She captures Honey’s youthful determination with a voice that shifts seamlessly between steel and vulnerability, while her secondary characters – from grizzled miners to skeptical housewives – each carry distinct vocal fingerprints. Listen to how she handles the scene where Honey defends her right to ride the route: Schorr’s breath control mirrors the protagonist’s panicked gulps of air, then firms into steady resolve. It transported me back to those Oaxacan evenings where grandmothers wove history through cadence alone.
The audiobook’s 10.5-hour duration allows Richardson’s lush descriptions room to breathe. You’ll hear the creak of saddle leather, the whisper of turning pages, the ominous rustle of copperhead snakes – a sensory richness I crave as a travel writer. Particularly stunning are the passages about ‘book woman magic,’ where Honey discovers how stories can be as nourishing as cornbread. Schorr delivers these lines with the reverence of someone who’s witnessed this transformation firsthand, much like I’ve seen literacy empower women in rural Ecuador.
Some listeners might find the pacing deliberate compared to modern thrillers, but this mirrors the Appalachian way – stories unfold like creek water rounding stones, not like bullets. The few moments where Honey’s internal monologue grows repetitive serve a purpose: they echo the cyclical nature of oppression that my MFA professors would call ‘iterative resistance.’
Compared to similar works like ‘The Giver of Stars’ or ‘The Library Book,’ Richardson’s novel stands apart for its unflinching look at genetic discrimination. The audiobook format particularly enhances the musicality of Appalachian dialect, making this a perfect companion for road trips through mountain country – I listened to chunks while driving the Blue Ridge Parkway, and the landscape became an extension of the narrative.
For those seeking historical fiction that honors oral tradition, this is essential listening. Pair it with Richardson’s first book for full context, then explore the real Pack Horse Library Project photos at the Library of Congress. You’ll never look at a library card the same way again.
With ink-stained fingers and trail dust in my shoes,
Marcus Rivera