Well. Thirty-eight years ago, on March 6th, 1988, I began writing a novel, in order to learn how to write a novel. It worked. And here we all are…
The universe (and God) move in Mysterious Ways <g>. For the curious,the origin story can be found here (and will open in a new tab or window):
https://dianagabaldon.com/2014/03/26-years-ago-today/
In the intervening twelve years, a Whole Lot of Other Stuff happened, including the births of two grandsons and the release of a TV show based on the books. Thanks for coming with me on this journey!
So in celebration, here’s a snippet from A BLESSING FOR A WARRIOR GOING OUT:
EXCERPT from A BLESSING FOR A WARRIOR GOING OUT – Copyright © 2026 Diana Gabaldon
Rather to William’s surprise, Fraser appeared for departure clad in a faded kilt with a ragged hem, this worn with a hunting shirt shadowed with ancient blood-stains, and a belt from which depended an assortment of weaponry and a small goatskin bag whose purpose was a mystery. Tartan stockings on his feet, and a cartridge box hung from a strap over his shoulder completed the ensemble.
“Camouflage,” Fraser said with a shrug, answering William’s look.
“What?”
“Oh.” Fraser was evidently taken aback for a moment, and his face reflected an extraordinarily rapid series of uninterpretable thoughts. “It’s, ah… from the French, I think. Camouflet, ye ken that one?
“I don’t, no. What does it mean?”
“Aye, well—camouflet is a whiff of smoke that ye blow in someone’s face. Camouflage just means ye want folk not to notice what ye are or ask what ye’re up to.”
“And…that is camouflage, is it?” William asked skeptically, gesturing at Fraser’s kilt. “You look like a bandit.”
Fraser smiled.
“Aye. And what would ye do, if ye met a bandit on the road? Stop and ask him his business?”
“I take your point.”
As he spoke the words, he had a sudden odd qualm and a coldness down his jaw.
Fraser’s smile changed to a look of mild concern.
“What is it, lad, are ye taken queer?”
“I—no,” William said abruptly. “I’m fine. And what, may I ask, am I meant to be, if you’re a bandit? Your accomplice?”
“If necessary,” Fraser said, “but I suppose ye could be my prisoner, in case of need. There’s a bit o’ rope in my saddlebags.”
“Jesus,” William muttered, and Fraser laughed. The man was in bloody high spirits, for someone snatched away from hearth and home to go off on what anyone might legitimately call a crackbrained venture.
Mother Claire appeared at this point, with several packages in her arms, and Frances behind her, similarly burdened.
“Food for the day,” Mother Claire said, handing her husband a cloth bag that smelled pleasantly of cheese, cold meat, fresh journey-cake and dried fruit. “Food for tomorrow,” and she handed William a similar bag. “And after that, you’re on your own for nourishment.”
“What’s this?” William asked, as she handed him a cloth-wrapped bundle that didn’t smell of food.
“Bandages,” she replied succinctly. “And medicines. They’re labeled Indigestion, Constipation, Diarrhea, and Brandy. For shock and disinfections,” she added.
“Ah. I’m sure those will be helpful,” he said, gingerly stuffing the medical items in his haversack.
“I really hope not,” she said, giving him a bleak look. “But I’ve known your father far too long to have illusions.”
“What about drink?” Fraser interrupted, with what even William could see was mock innocence.
“Just here,” Frances said, with modest triumph, and handed over two similar bags, these clinking and sloshing as they moved. She met William’s eye with a tranquil face—no trace of what had happened in the stable half an hour before.
The qualm fluttered through him once again, but this time he knew what it was. Jane. Standing just behind his shoulder.
“I take your point,” he’d said to her, once.
“Well, that’s a novelty,” she’d replied. “It’s usually the other way round.”
“Goodbye, Frances,” he said abruptly, and turned to mount his horse, consciously not looking as Fraser took farewell of his wife.
[end section]
Click to visit my Book Ten webpage for information on this book, and to read more excerpts from it.
The artwork for the original hardcover edition of OUTLANDER is shown in the top image, first published in 1991.
Note: The illustration is a Russel-Morgan Print of a Tramp smoking cigar with cane over arm. Date 1899 [supplied by Wikimedia Commons].
A previous version of this BLESSING excerpt was posted on Wednesday, September 20, 2023, with the temporary title of “Camouflage.”
This excerpt was also posted on my official Facebook page on Friday, March 6, 2026.
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