Audio Description Is Not Transcription, It's Adaptation
When Language Serves The Story, Blind Audiences Get The Same Emotional Ride
A lot of people assume audio description is simple.
Just say what’s on screen.
But if you’ve ever listened to a track that felt stiff, distracting, or oddly “not part of the movie,” you already know the real problem. The words were technically correct, and the experience still … missed.
That is why I keep coming back to one idea.
Audio description is not transcription.
It’s adaptation.
I felt that even more clearly in a recent conversation on The ADNA Presents Podcast with Meg T. Ryan, an audio description writer at Deluxe. She’s been writing since 2022. Two of her credits, The Substance and Snow White, were nominated for the American Council of the Blind Audio Description People’s Choice Award. And her other credits include Final Destination: Bloodlines, A Minecraft Movie, Primal (Season 3), and Phineas and Ferb (Season 5).
But what stuck with me was how she thinks about the audio description audience.
The Stereotype, And What It Misses
There’s a stereotype that audio description is cold. Purely functional. A technical layer laid on top of a film.
Meg starts somewhere else: Audience.
This audience, in this genre, in this moment.
She said being aware of the audience guides the words you choose, the tone you reach for, and even how much fun you can have with the listener.
That line matters, because “fun” is not extra.
Fun is a signal that you are making room for the same emotional ride other viewers get.
Comedy And Horror Use The Same Math
Meg also named something that feels obvious once you hear it.
Horror and comedy are different versions of the same math.
Build tension.
Time it right.
Release.
Punchline and jump scare are cousins.
That is a useful tool for writers, because it frames what we are really timing: emotion. The moment something lands. The moment it turns. The moment the audience needs to be held, and the moment they need silence.
Drama Is Where Editorializing Sneaks In
Meg was also honest about where writing gets hard.
Drama.
Not because nothing is happening, but because so much is happening in a face, in a pause, in a silence.
That is where the temptation shows up to explain what someone is thinking, or to interpret. To “help.”
The discipline is describing what you can support, without force-feeding meaning.
You can suggest without steering, and you can be specific without taking over.
What “Best” Actually Looks Like
When I asked Meg what “doing your best” means at the start of a project. No mention of flourishing words! She talked about message.
What is this film trying to tell the audience?
What is this scene trying to tell the audience?
What is this one moment trying to tell the audience?
Then she chooses words.
That order is everything.
If you choose words first, you describe surfaces.
If you choose message first, you translate meaning.
The “Chatoyancy” Moment, And The Real Standard
Meg shared a moment I loved because it’s so human.
She considered used the word “Chatoyancy,” a gem term for the way light refracts inside a stone. But this was for a show for 10-year-olds. So she didn’t use “Chatoyancy.” Say they giggle, or grin, or something.
That is not dumbing down.
It keeps the listener inside the story.
Audio description fails when the writing asks for attention.
And it works when the words disappear into the experience.
Audio Description Is Adaptation, Not Transcription
This is the misunderstanding I run into constantly.
People think audio description is “like subtitles.”
It’s not.
It’s translating a visual medium into a listening experience that stays cinematic. It supports pacing, tone, and emotional clarity without stepping in front of the film.
That is adaptation, and adaptation requires judgment.
What to include, and what to leave out.
How to keep rhythm, and how to avoid stealing focus.
That is craft.
The Time Crunch Is Real
Meg also named the part audiences rarely see.
The timeline is short.
You sometimes can only get about eight business days to write audio description for a 110-minute movie.
So you accept a hard truth.
The work needs to exist.
It needs to be available.
It will not be perfect every time.
Then she added something surprising:
Sometimes pressure helps.
Pressure is NOT ideal, but it forces decisions. You don’t have time to argue with yourself for hours over one phrase. You lock in and you do the work.
Constraints can sharpen craft.
Position, Produce, Promote
Position
I’m particular about audio description because I’m protecting an experience.
When the writing is thoughtful, blind audiences get the same emotional ride, not a summary.
Produce
Start with message, then choose language.
Ask:
What is this moment doing?
What does the audience need to feel?
What would distract them?
Then write the simplest line that supports the story.
Promote
If you want this work to be seen, stop describing it as compliance.
Talk about craft.
Talk about experience.
Talk about trust.
People share what helps them feel the point of something, not what merely meets a requirement.
A Small Practice You Can Try This Week
Pick one scene you’re describing, or one paragraph you’re writing.
Ask three questions:
What emotion am I inviting?
What action feels natural after this?
Am I earning trust or claiming it?
Then revise one line accordingly.
Just one.
Closing
Meg said it perfectly: audio description should be supplemental and enriching, not trying to steal the show.
That is the standard I want more of us to name out loud.
Listen to the full chatoyancy at https://sites.libsyn.com/271301/meg-ryan
If you want more writing like this, plus practical tools for making language land cleanly for real audiences, my main newsletter is where I send it. One clear idea at a time, built for people who care about craft and access. Join here: roysamuelson.kit.com
When have you seen “technically right” language still break the experience?