Editors Reveal: Our dopamine listens

As a child, I’d spend long minutes staring at the colour of the sky, or analyzing the exact temperature and flavour of strawberry ice cream in an attempt to capture memories so strong I would be able to transport myself back in time as an adult. You see, a grown-up once told little me that older people don’t know how to enjoy life, and I was determined not to forget what it felt like to experience the world as a kid. It turns out, my younger self may have been on to something. Bestselling author of The Happiness Project Gretchen Rubin explores the benefits of connecting to the physical world in Life in Five Senses. Drawing on science, philosophy, and literature, as well as her own experiences, Rubin just might prove that savouring joyful moments holds the key to long-term contentment.

It’s virtually impossible to listen to the words of Audre Lorde and not feel like a flame reignited. Lorde is someone whose work I return to again and again, internalizing new kernels of wisdom with every reading. This collection is particularly moving, and I find myself pressing “play” whenever the world feels too heavy to hold. Interwoven into her essays on gender, race, sexuality, sickness, and solidarity, Lorde threads an ever-present undercurrent of hope and an empowering reminder of the incredible force that lives inside each and every one of us, should we choose to let it in, and, perhaps more importantly, out into the world.

Love in Color is one of my favourite anthologies to sink into when I need an escape. As someone who spends their days immersed in storytelling, I'm drawn to narratives that break moulds, and Babalola's magical retellings do just that. Every tale delivers a rush. It's empowering, romantic, and refreshingly optimistic. There's no anxiety, no waiting for tragedy, just the pure joy of watching characters take control of their destinies. Love in Color decolonizes ancient myths and folktales, centring Black women as decision-makers, lovers, and heroes of their own stories. Whether I'm working or unwinding, these tales flood my brain with feel-good chemistry—the literary equivalent of a perfect playlist. It reminds me why I fell in love with storytelling in the first place, and why I keep coming back for more.

When I’m listening to a romance, I’m fully in it. I’m talking to (or yelling at) the characters, and when it’s a slow burn, I spend a good chunk of the book going, “OM🤬G, will you just get together already? WE ALL know you’re in love.” So, yes, Just Kiss Already immediately spoke to me. This time, it’s a grumpy author and the filmmaker adapting his book thrown together on a press tour, where reluctant promotion quickly turns into undeniable chemistry. From early on, we can tell Ben and Lauren are headed straight for each other, which somehow makes the wait even better. Lily Chu knows exactly how long to hold that tension, letting it build until you’re completely locked in. And when it finally happens, when the feelings are all out there and you know what’s coming next, that payoff is the best kind of dopamine hit.

Oh dear, I’m afraid the theme of my library is a little more dark and stormy than sunny and spring-like. But, like any good elder millennial, I’ve been fully radicalized into the world of backyard birding. Spotting the bluebirds, goldfinches, chickadees, and woodpeckers that frequent my feeders is one of my purest, most unadulterated joys in chaotic times, and I will never turn down a listen that shares this sentiment. Amy Tan knows what’s up. Her Backyard Bird Chronicles is a delightful, soothing ode to the natural world outside her door, and her writing and narration exude her passion for her feathered friends.

In an unexpected turn of events, the most wholesome, big-hearted listen I’ve queued up in recent memory largely features, well, the Antichrist. But he’s not quite what you’d expect from evil incarnate; as TJ Klune writes in this found-family cozy: “We are who we are not because of our birthright, but because of what we choose to do in this life.” The story opens with Linus Baker, a scrupulous caseworker at the Department of Magical Youth who’s in a bit of a rut. But his rule-bound rigidity is challenged when he’s assigned to Marsyas Island Orphanage, an oceanfront home run by the idiosyncratic Arthur Parnassus. Before long, Linus is trading his loneliness for companionship with the help of Arthur and his peculiar wards, including gruff garden gnome Talia, wyvern Theodore, and the aforementioned bringer-of-end-times Lucy—who also happens to have one heck of a record collection. I grew to love each and every one of the quirky characters in this buoyant, affirming listen, and much like Linus, I felt that my heart was all the fuller for having spent time with them.

I’m heading to Italy later this month, which I hope will be a bright cap on this endless winter. Serendipitously, my sister-in-law recommended this new-to-me classic, Elizabeth von Arnim’s beloved novel about four British women who travel to an Italian medieval castle, lured by an advertisement addressed to “those who appreciate wisteria and sunshine.” I half-intended to save the book for my trip, but I’m totally pulled in by the warm yet sharply observant story of the women, each escaping their own sorrows for sunnier climes. Who couldn’t love von Arnim’s wit and tender attention to her characters’ inner lives and her bursts of delirious prose celebrating nature’s abundance? Clearly not the many Audible listeners who rate the novel, and particularly Eleanor Bron’s delightful performance, so highly. This book, like its reputation and blooming setting, positively glows!

I love the Beatles. The first songs I ever loved, in my whole life, were “Let It Be” and “Hey Jude.” I remember playing them on my Walkman over and over while traipsing the beach at Cape Cod when I was six years old. When I got married, I walked down the aisle to “Blackbird.” When I had my son, “I Will” was my lullaby of choice—I played it for him before he was even born, holding the speaker up to my belly. So, when I say I love the Beatles, I mean I loooove the Beatles. And in Ian Leslie, I found my match. After listening to his book John & Paul, it was all I could talk about! I was obsessed. I was high on Beatles history; a sort of mania, if you will. (The Beatles are known to have this effect on people.) Ian Leslie exquisitely articulates why this band was so special—what made their music so revolutionary and yet so timeless. It goes beyond their technical mastery and explosive creativity; it’s about two men with a marrow-deep bond who poured their souls out to each other through song, and the world was fortunate enough to be their audience.

Nothing beats that moment in a song or story that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. As a well-being nut and an audio enthusiast, I can’t help but wonder if there’s a connection between sound and health. Cue Audible Original podcast Maejor Frequency by music producer and performer Brandon Green, a.k.a. Maejor. Over the course of 10 mellifluous episodes, Maejor guides listeners on his journey around the world as he speaks with experts in sound—a gong master, a psychedelic advocate, musicians, and more—to bring sound healing mainstream. Oh, and you’re going to want to listen to this one with headphones on to get the full effect.

I don't recall exactly how I stumbled upon Catherine Price's The Power of Fun. Most likely it was a recommendation that popped up after I finished Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing, which I began recommending to everyone who I felt was drained and distracted and experiencing a similar state of ennui. Catherine's low-key enthusiasm is infectious as she narrates a similar philosophical manifesto on why we should resist the attention economy. Plus, I love how she makes the distinction between "True Fun" (playfulness, connection, and flow) vs. "Fake Fun" (doomscrolling or mindless TV bingeing), because it helped me reconnect to the joy I was seeking after shifting jobs and goals at midlife. I can't quite claim that I've broken up with my phone completely (which she advocated for in her first book), but I do feel like I've recaptured a certain ebullience I'd been missing. So, as I await the daffodils (my favourite flower) to erupt in all their giddy glory this spring, I'll just be over here having a little more fun.