I've discovered one mildly annoying side effect of listening to a lot more books than I physically read.
I can hear an author's favorite sentence.
Not literally the same sentence, but the little construction they apparently love so much that it sneaks in every few pages.
One author I listened to recently had characters constantly "letting out a breath they hadn't realized they were holding." Another seemed physically incapable of ending a tense conversation without somebody rubbing the back of their neck.
I'm three books into a series right now and every character apparently "gives a small shrug" before saying anything remotely uncertain.
On the page, I honestly don't think I'd notice most of this. My eyes skim over familiar little action beats and keep moving.
But when the same narrator actually has to SAY "he gave a small shrug" for the eighteenth time, my brain starts keeping statistics.
Dialogue habits become obvious too.
Certain characters begin every answer with "Look," or "Well," so often that after ten hours I'm quietly saying it along with the narrator.
And once I hear the pattern, I can't unhear it.
The strange part is that this hasn't necessarily made me like those books less. If anything, it's made me much more aware of how different written prose and spoken prose actually feel. Something almost invisible on a page can become incredibly loud when another human has to perform every single word.
It's also given me new respect for writers whose prose sounds natural for 15 or 20 hours straight. There really is nowhere for repetitive rhythm to hide in audio.
Now whenever I switch back to print I catch myself wondering how many writing tics are sitting right in front of me that my eyes have politely agreed not to report.