Frequency of Living Things

Suehyla El-Attar Young’s narration is the secret weapon of this audiobook. Her voice carries the weight of a woman who’s seen too much, her cadence shifting seamlessly from exhausted weariness to volcanic rage, then back again with the precision of a metronome set to grief. She doesn’t soften the edges of these characters; instead, she sharpens them, making Claire’s quiet despair, Maeve’s unhinged bravado, and Liddy’s brittle optimism feel like lived-in truths rather than performances. The pacing is relentless, mirroring the sisters’ own frenetic journey, though I craved a few deliberate pauses—moments to let the silence hang heavy after a gut-punch revelation. The production is crisp, with no audio artifacts to distract, though some ambient sounds (wind, car engines) occasionally blend into the background during outdoor scenes, threatening to muffle key dialogue. Still, Googins’ novel is a masterclass in how to twist the knife of family drama without ever resorting to melodrama. If you’ve ever wondered how far you’d go for the people who’ve wounded you most, this is your audiobook. Just keep a tissue—and maybe a stiff drink—close at hand.