Once I bought a book for myself for Christmas. It was many years ago. There was a Norwegian nineteenth century politician that interested me, and I wanted to know more about his life. I found a used copy of a biography about him, written by a Norwegian professor I will not name (he is dead anyway. I never had anything to do with him. I just don't like naming and shaming.) This book is to date the worst factual book I have ever read. It followed no plan, jumped back and forth for no apparent reason, and the sentences were extremely long, and exhausting to read. I don't know who was to blame, the writer or the publisher?
In Norway, we have a fantastic comedic actor who died some years ago called Rolv Wesenlund. He started as a jazz musician, but then became an actor, playing in the Norwegian version of Hancock's Half Hour, Fleksnes, which was such a success that he became a household name in Scandinavia for the rest of his life. He was a very fine comedic actor, with a mischievous, but very warm gleam in his eye. He wrote an autobiography, and read his own audiobook. This was a horrific book. He would introduce thoughts about NATO in passages about other things, and he mumbled all through the recording. I could not listen to it. So a great acting legend does not have to be a great writer, or the best person to read his own text. His mumbling was charming on screen, but annoying in an audiobook.