(C) 2025 Alex Diaz-Granados

Hope in the Inbox: A Narrator’s Chain of Joy

This morning, I woke up to a chain of messages from Brandon Padilla, the narrator of Reunion: A Story. He’d just recorded another 25 minutes, declared Chapter 5 his favorite, and shared plans to feature the audiobook as his debut listing on his website. He even asked what made his audition stand out.

The answer is simple: he did. Not just with his voice, but with his presence. While one other narrator gave a technically excellent reading (and was cast for Comings and Goings), Brandon sent a note that expressed interest with enthusiasm. That kind of emotional investment is rare—and essential for a story like Reunion, which is built on memory, quiet rituals, and the longing to be seen.

Marty
Marty

His favorite chapter, “The Dream,” is one of the novella’s emotional anchors. It begins with Jimmy falling asleep in the school library and drifting into a dream where memory and longing blur into something tender and surreal. He finds himself back in his old English classroom, reading Macbeth, when Martina Reynaud—the most beautiful girl in the Class of ’83—walks in. What follows is a slow dance of vulnerability, set to the imagined strains of a 1940s ballroom band.

The chapter includes a whispered invitation: “Don’t say a word. Let’s just dance, okay?” That line, written in October 1998 while Nat King Cole’s “Mona Lisa” played on the radio, still carries the emotional cadence of that moment. It’s a line about presence, not performance. About communion, not climax.

Brandon’s enthusiasm gives me hope. Not just that the audiobook will resonate, but that the novella itself carries the emotional weight it was meant to. His messages are a mirror, reflecting the story’s heart back to me. And maybe, to you.

Stay tuned. This one feels special.