John Keats – Ode To Autumn – a Reading

I have already written a few words about Ode to Autumn but felt minded to record my own reading of it.

Forgive the sheer vanity but it just felt something I needed to do.  I have never been a luvvie, a Thespian. God forbid.

Professional luvvies can be bad enough but amateurs are almost inevitably excruciating.  I hope therefore that my (almost) non-existent readers will forgive this strange departure.

Partly, I did it because it was fun.  Partly because my wife has a fantasy that I might be a budding podcast star. I don’t think she realizes you have to be female, with Botox and big tits to achieve that. And apparently if you want to appeal to the Afro Americans you need to be both female and a clone of one or other Kardashian (Kim?) with a huge bum.

Anyway, onward. I bought a retro microphone called Blue Snowball Ice and set out to inflict my painful drivel on an unsuspecting public.

I used excellent free audio recording software called Audacity and spent, what, six or seven hours fiddling around with it trying to make myself sound less of an aged old fart than I actually am.

I am amazed and mortified at how old I sound – I don’t feel it. But that is what they all say!


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