Pulse

I’ll admit, I approached *Pulse* with skepticism. Another mass shooting deep-dive? But within 20 minutes, Aaronson’s narration—dry yet electric—had me hooked. There’s something hypnotic about hearing the reporter who broke the story *tell* it himself, his pauses loaded with unspoken fury. The audiobook’s structure is razor-sharp: it opens with the attack’s chaos (via 911 calls and survivor testimonies), then pivots to the FBI’s years of bungled leads on the shooter, Omar Mateen. Aaronson’s reporting here is damning, but what stunned me was his restraint—no grandstanding, just a methodical unspooling of facts that implicate the bureau’s “see something, say something” theater. That said, the pacing isn’t perfect. The middle act sags slightly under the weight of bureaucratic detail (how many times can you hear “joint terrorism task force” before zoning out?), and Aaronson’s narration, while compelling, occasionally verges on monotone when reciting legalese. But the finale—where he connects the Pulse failures to broader patterns of FBI incompetence—is devastating. The production’s use of silence is masterful, too; in a medium often cluttered with sound effects, the quiet after a survivor’s voice cracks feels like a punch to the sternum. This isn’t an easy listen, nor should it be. It’s a necessary one, especially for anyone who’s ever wondered how these tragedies keep happening.