My new book just sold to Audible. I guess you could call it, Excuse Me – the Ears Edition.

I’m really excited about this, because my first book was never made into an audiobook. Now, I feel like I’ve arrived. It means my words are good enough to be spoken aloud, like the Gettysburg address or a felony conviction.

I don’t know yet if I’ll be reading it or if some actor will be playing me. If it’s someone else, I hope he’s audibly hot. I’m thinking Channing Tatum. But funnier.

If it’s me, I’ve already made up my list of actor demands for the recording session, which include an unopened bottle of water and lunch from Chipotle. I wanted to demand chili from Chasen’s (like Elizabeth Taylor did when they were filming Cleopatra in the 60’s, and they had to fly it over to her every day), but Chasen’s closed like 20 years ago, so it probably wouldn’t be that fresh.

If the role isn’t played by me, it might end up feeling a little weird, driving around and listening to my life as told by someone else. But maybe that will give me objectivity. I’ll be able to step back and think, “Wow, this guy is f***ed up!” without all the attendant worrying about what I should do about it.

It’s sort of thrilling to think that my story might provide hours of ear candy for truckers trying to stay awake and people working their glutes on an elliptical. Maybe I’ll save a life. Or create some really tight butts. Either one is exciting. (As you can see, the bar is somewhat low.)

Finally, I can say, “Why, yes, I’m an Audible Author.” Then I can sniff with superiority at the brilliant authors whose substantive tomes on subjects like the war in Syria and reproductive rights were not produced on audio.

Sure, they have the intellectual upper hand. Sure, they have the moral and philosophical upper hand.

But I have an audiobook.

Playing field: LEVELED.