Kelli Maroney On Narrating ‘Landis: The Story of a Real Man on 42nd Street’
I have always loved and revered Preston Fassel’s work, so I was thrilled and so very honored to narrate Landis. I still am.
I know how much writing this book and getting it out into the world meant to him, what a perverse, nonsensical struggle it was to get anyone to agree to speak with him about Landis, to get any information out of anybody, and how lucky Bill Landis himself was to have someone like Preston care so much about telling his story. The irony of having pretty much no one care about him in life or death and then having Preston create this beautiful tribute to him really touched me. I’m beyond proud to be invited to be part of things so I approached this book and this story with great reverence.
I may be an unexpected surprise narrator in one way, yet in another, the writing style and subject matter is smack-dab in my wheelhouse. I actually experienced the very tail-end of this period in time as a teenager in NYC myself, on “The Deuce,” as some called it—42nd St.—and although I only walked past it (or “around it” to avoid whatever that was on the sidewalk) it all came back to me as a real place and time where I had physically been. I can report that everything Preston so richly describes is 100% accurate. I could smell it, hear it, and I was back there myself as I read it.
The challenge for me in narrating was that I wanted to linger on everything, the attention to detail and description, and that isn’t my job as a narrator! I’m supposed to be somewhat neutral and read the book aloud and not comment or “share my thoughts” about it to the listener via my tone, etc. The challenge for me was to stay somewhat neutral and simply present the story. But, much to my surprise, it’s almost impossible not to be in there living the story oneself. When you experience the book, you’ll know what I mean. No one can put it down until they finish it.
From my first day of narration, I had a total blast meeting my very shy sound tech, waving from the booth, “Hi, I’m Kelli!” and promptly sailing into a description of porn stars not ejaculating and everyone on set waiting for a cum shot. I adored it. Poor guy was a born-again Christian, I found out later.
Then there are so many hilarious and absurd stories that narrating Landis with a straight face took a couple of takes. My sound tech and I cracked up laughing—a lot. He became personally involved in the story (!) though he had absolutely no reason to care about Landis or 42nd St, or gay people, or Fangoria—too young to conceptualize health care. We just sucked him in!
I listened to as many of the real people’s voices as I could, not to mimic them but to see if I could catch their cadences so the listener could somewhat follow who was speaking. Bill was the most fun because his voice was so legendarily annoying. (Truly, it was, but it was also fun to listen to). I learned a lot more about the people I was able to get recordings of just by hearing them chatting a little.
And I got choked up and cried several times and had to take a break, too. There are personal stories and pathos of groups of people and the callousness of the culture and the time in general that affected me, and may or may not affect you, so trigger warning, I suppose. I learned a lot about that time that I didn’t know because, back then, there were so many closed minds and closed mouths.
I appreciate Preston’s doggedly trudging back in time and rescuing their voices and stories for us now that we have better ears to listen to, whether they liked it or not. As much as they would let him, of course.
I can’t get over how weird that is and how weird it must have been for him! WTF. Maybe there were some murders or something being covered up, the paranoia! Or they could just be weird old people. Who knows?
Thank you to the incredible people at Encyclopocalypse.com for all their help and support. This is an outstanding company. And thank you for checking out (choosing, whatever) this audiobook. I hope you enjoy Landis: The Story of a Real Man on 42nd Street as much as I do.
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