Jason and Travis Kelce are great podcasters. Authors? Don’t bet $24 on it

Jason and Travis Kelce: Podcast Stars Turn Authors, But Is the Book Worth the Price?

From the Couch to the Page: A Familiar Formula?

Jason and Travis Kelce are great - When it comes to literary pursuits, the Kelce brothers might seem like an unlikely duo. Known primarily for their chemistry on the football field and their sharp wit on the podcast, they’ve never been marketed as writers. Yet, their new book, *No Dumb Questions: And All Of Our Dumbest Answers*, now available from William Morrow, has managed to find its way into the hands of readers. The question remains: does this publication mark a genuine leap into the literary world, or is it just a repackaged version of their existing content?

"You’re about to read a book written by two individuals who both once faced the wrath of a preschool teacher," Jason Kelce writes in the introduction. His brother Travis adds, "This is a twist for the guy who insists he can’t read well." The opening lines immediately set the tone for a project that leans heavily on the brothers’ signature style—colloquial, unfiltered, and often laced with humor that borders on the absurd.

While the book’s premise is rooted in the popular Q&A segment of their podcast *New Heights*, the transition from audio to print has been anything but revolutionary. The structure of the book mirrors the format of their YouTube series, with questions posed by fans and answers delivered in their trademark banter. This consistency has been praised by some as a seamless adaptation, but critics argue it’s more of a convenient shortcut for a literary career.

With over 3 million podcast subscribers, the Kelces have built a loyal audience that craves their candid insights. The book, however, offers little in the way of fresh material. Many of the questions are recycled from previous episodes, and the answers are presented in the same conversational tone as their audio content. This approach has drawn comparisons to other podcasts-turned-books, such as *Howard Stern Comes Again* or *We Can Do Hard Things*, but the Kelces’ work feels less like a creative evolution and more like a commercial gamble.

Recycling Content for Profit: A Publisher’s Perspective

The book’s creation was spearheaded by Amazon’s Wondery imprint, which signed an exclusive deal with the Kelces for over $100 million in 2024, according to Variety. A publisher spokesperson explained the decision in an email to USA TODAY, noting that turning the podcast’s fan-driven Q&A into a book felt like a natural progression. "Podcasts have long been a source of compelling stories, and this format allows for a more tangible experience," the spokesperson said. Yet, the lack of new material raises questions about the value of the investment.

For instance, the book’s page count—226 pages—seems oddly arbitrary. The content feels stretched, with sections that could have been trimmed to a more digestible length. Some readers have noted the text reads like a high schooler playing with margin sizes to hit a quota, a metaphor that underscores the book’s haphazard feel. Illustrations, many of them repetitive, are sprinkled throughout, but they often serve as mere decorations rather than meaningful additions to the narrative.

One of the most striking examples of recycled content is the brothers’ debate over the number of holes in a straw. A question that has been posed on the podcast multiple times reappears in the book, accompanied by a pull quote featuring a cartoonish Travis shouting, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Cinnamon Toast Crunch!” This moment, while humorous, highlights the book’s reliance on familiar material rather than original storytelling.

Behind the Scenes: What the Back Cover Doesn’t Say

On the surface, the book’s back cover promises intimate stories, life lessons, and insights into the personal and professional lives of the Kelces. But closer inspection reveals that these claims are largely marketing fluff. The brothers’ accounts of their experiences—both on and off the field—are not significantly different from what fans have already heard on the podcast. Even Travis’ upcoming marriage to Taylor Swift is mentioned only once, despite the book’s title suggesting a deeper exploration of “what ifs” and “dumbest answers.”

Despite this, the book’s format is a direct reflection of their podcast’s structure. Each chapter is a response to a fan-submitted question, ranging from the mundane to the absurd. While this approach ensures a conversational flow, it also limits the scope of the narrative. The brothers acknowledge this in the introduction, writing, “It doesn’t promise to be life-changing or even close to accurate.” This admission hints at the book’s purpose: to capitalize on their existing popularity rather than redefine their creative boundaries.

The audiobook version, too, is a truncated version of the podcast. Most of the content is lifted verbatim, with only the introduction and five new questions offering a slight variation. This has led to speculation that the book is essentially a glorified transcript, repurposed for the printed page. For readers who have already consumed the podcast, the book may feel redundant, but for those unfamiliar with the series, it could serve as a gateway to their world.

Why Publish When You Can Podcast?

The Kelces’ entry into publishing raises broader questions about the role of new media in the literary landscape. While their podcast has gained a massive following, the book’s $24 price tag may not justify its content for all readers. Yet, the brothers’ influence as athletes and entertainers has created a market for their work, regardless of its originality.

“I suppose the case could be made that this is the new media equivalent of bound film scripts,” the reviewer muses. “Like *Fleabag: The Scriptures*, which fans have already seen a dozen times, but still find value in its physical form.” This analogy suggests that the Kelces’ book might appeal to their most dedicated fans, who seek the same experience they’ve had with their podcast. However, for casual readers, the lack of new material could make it feel like a missed opportunity.

Still, the book’s charm lies in its authenticity. The brothers’ discussions about football strategies, locker room dynamics, and the occasional family anecdote offer a glimpse into their lives that is both entertaining and relatable. While these sections may not offer groundbreaking revelations for longtime fans, they provide a sense of connection that is hard to replicate in other formats.

Ultimately, *No Dumb Questions* serves as a testament to the power of popular culture. The Kelces’ ability to translate their podcast’s success into a printed book underscores how far media has come in blurring the lines between different formats. Yet, the project also highlights the challenges of maintaining quality in an industry driven by profit and audience appeal. For now, the book stands as a fun, if unassuming, addition to the brothers’ legacy. Whether it’s worth the investment depends on how much readers are willing to value familiarity over innovation.

Clare Mulroy, USA TODAY’s Books Reporter, has covered buzzy releases and interviewed authors, but her critical eye has also caught the nuances of content creation in the digital age. Her analysis of the Kelce brothers’ book reflects a broader trend: the increasing reliance on existing platforms to fuel new literary projects. As the boundaries between media continue to dissolve, the question of what constitutes a “book” becomes more complex—and more subjective.

So, if you’re considering spending $24 on *No Dumb Questions*, you might want to ask yourself: are you buying a book, or are you purchasing a transcript? Either way, the Kelces have made their mark on the literary world, proving that even the most unlikely authors can find a way to share their stories—albeit with a few recycled questions along the way.