March 11, 2023 Sorry to be MIA—we went to New Orleans for several days (just for fun, weirdly enough <g>—ate, slept, walked around looking at interesting things and listening to great music) and I didn’t take my laptop with me. I did get a bit of work done, though, in the middle of the nights (the ones where I woke up in time…): I don’t think anything in this excerpt constitutes a spoiler, but it is from Book Ten. [Excerpt from UNTITLED BOOK TEN. Copyright © 2023 Diana Gabaldon.] I uncurled the tiny fist to check again. I’d caught only a glimpse, but… By reflex, I turned my left hand up and glanced at my own palm. It was a maze of wandering lines: head, heart, life, love, fate—and dozens more caused by the daily wear of age and work. A net to catch an unknown future. But the twitching little starfish in my right hand was almost a blank slate, save for a single smooth, deep line across the […]
Search results for ‘i give you my body’
“Two Warriors”
Social Media Hashtags: #DailyLines, #InHonorOfMemorialDay #AndAllThoseWhoServeTheirCountries, #WRITTENInMyOwnHEARTSBlood, #TwoWarriors THE FIRST SHOT took them by surprise, a muffled boom from the cider orchard and a slow roll of white smoke. They didn’t run, but they stiffened, looking to him for direction. Jamie said to those near him, “Good lads,” then raised his voice. “To my left, now! Mr. Craddock, Reverend Woodsworth—circle them; come into the orchard from behind. The rest—scatter to the right and fire as ye can—” The second crash drowned his words, and Craddock jerked like a puppet with his strings cut and dropped to the ground, blood spraying from the blackened hole in his chest. Jamie’s horse shied violently, nearly unseating him. “Go with the reverend!” he shouted at Craddock’s men, who stood there drop-jawed, staring at their captain’s body. “Go now!” One of the men shook himself, grabbed the sleeve of another, pulled him away, and then they all began to move as a body. Woodsworth, bless him, raised his musket overhead and roared, “To me! Follow […]
In Honor Of Memorial Day 2022
Social Media Hashtags: #DailyLines, #InHonorOfMemorialDay #AndAllThoseWhoServeTheirCountries, #WRITTENInMyOwnHEARTSBlood, #TwoWarriors THE FIRST SHOT took them by surprise, a muffled boom from the cider orchard and a slow roll of white smoke. They didn’t run, but they stiffened, looking to him for direction. Jamie said to those near him, “Good lads,” then raised his voice. “To my left, now! Mr. Craddock, Reverend Woodsworth—circle them; come into the orchard from behind. The rest—scatter to the right and fire as ye can—” The second crash drowned his words, and Craddock jerked like a puppet with his strings cut and dropped to the ground, blood spraying from the blackened hole in his chest. Jamie’s horse shied violently, nearly unseating him. “Go with the reverend!” he shouted at Craddock’s men, who stood there drop-jawed, staring at their captain’s body. “Go now!” One of the men shook himself, grabbed the sleeve of another, pulled him away, and then they all began to move as a body. Woodsworth, bless him, raised his musket overhead and roared, “To me! Follow […]
Writing Anniversary and An Interview
HAPPY WRITING ANNIVERSARY! To me, that is. On March 6th, 1988, I began writing what eventually turned out to be OUTLANDER. I intended to write a novel for the sole purpose of learning how to write a novel… and here was are, some 34 years on… …and many thanks to all of you who have been with me through those years, as well as those who have just come aboard this voyage through time and space! Rather than celebrate the occasion by telling what a bookseller of my acquaintance refers to as “your origin story” (because I’ve told it thousands of times, and if anyone wants to see it, it’s here on my website as well as hundreds of other places on the web), I went through some of the dozens of interviews I’ve done over the intervening years, and thought I might publish a few of the most interesting ones, over the course of this month (interspersed with discussions of Season Six, to be sure). This interview was done […]
“Bah, Humbug!”
Social Media Hashtags: #MERRY #CHRISTMAS! #noBEESisNOTfinished #IllTELLyouwhenitis #goplaywithyourjingtinklers #eatsomeroastbeef [Excerpt from DRUMS OF AUTUMN, Copyright © 1998 by Diana Gabaldon.] In which Jamie hasn’t returned from a hunting trip when expected, and after spending some time in an isolated cabin by herself, growing more agitated by the moment, Claire decides to go looking for him, and begins to exercise her rudimentary tracking skills. He wasn’t behind me, he wasn’t in front of me. Left, then, or right? “Eeny, meeny, miney, mo,” I muttered, and turned downhill because the walking was easier, shouting now and then. I stopped to listen. Was there an answering shout? I called again, but couldn’t make out a reply. The wind was coming up, rattling the tree limbs overhead. I took another step, landed on an icy rock, and my foot slid out from under me. I slipped and skidded, floundering down a short, muddy slope, hit a screen of dog-hobble, burst through and clutched a handful of icy twigs, heart pounding. At my feet was […]
Merry Christmas – 2020!
Social Media Hashtags: #MERRY #CHRISTMAS! #noBEESisNOTfinished #IllTELLyouwhenitis #goplaywithyourjingtinklers #eatsomeroastbeef [Excerpt from DRUMS OF AUTUMN, Copyright © 1998 by Diana Gabaldon.] In which Jamie hasn’t returned from a hunting trip when expected, and after spending some time in an isolated cabin by herself, growing more agitated by the moment, Claire decides to go looking for him, and begins to exercise her rudimentary tracking skills. He wasn’t behind me, he wasn’t in front of me. Left, then, or right? “Eeny, meeny, miney, mo,” I muttered, and turned downhill because the walking was easier, shouting now and then. I stopped to listen. Was there an answering shout? I called again, but couldn’t make out a reply. The wind was coming up, rattling the tree limbs overhead. I took another step, landed on an icy rock, and my foot slid out from under me. I slipped and skidded, floundering down a short, muddy slope, hit a screen of dog-hobble, burst through and clutched a handful of icy twigs, heart pounding. At my feet was […]
Anunciation – Fourth Sunday of Advent
This is the Fourth and final Sunday of Advent. It comes to us with a deep sense of annunciation; the surety of a great promise that will be kept. We turn inward now again and listen to the great silence of the night, preparing our hearts for what awaits us in the light. The lantern bobbed along, moving away from me. I stood still, following the blob of light with my eyes. Every few feet he would stop, then continue, and a slow flame would rise up in his wake to burn in a small red glow. As my eyes slowly accustomed themselves, the flames became a row of lanterns, situated on rock pillars, shining into the black like beacons. It was a cave. At first I thought it was a cave of crystals, because of the odd black shimmer beyond the lanterns. But I stepped forward to the first pillar and looked beyond, and then I saw it. A clear black lake. Transparent water, shimmering like glass over fine […]
The First Sunday of Advent – 2020
Sunday, November 29, 2020 Today is the First Sunday of Advent. Advent is a four-week space in time, during which we draw aside from the world in preparation for the light of Christmas. Whatever we suffer in grief, illness, fear, anger, in longing for home, for love—Advent offers us respite, a refuge, a small place of rest, repentance, reconciliation and peace. A time to be still and listen to our hearts. [Excerpt from WRITTEN IN MY OWN HEART’S BLOOD, Copyright © 2014 by Diana Gabaldon.] “Are ye all right, Sassenach? Is it bad, then?” “No,” I said, and wiped my eyes hastily on a corner of the sheet. “No—it—it’s fine. I just&,dash;oh, Jamie, I love you!” I did give way to tears, then, snuffling and blubbering like an idiot. “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to get hold of myself. “I’m all right, there’s nothing wrong, it’s just—” “Aye, I ken fine what it’s just,” he said, and, setting the candle and pot on the floor, lay down on the bed […]
The First Sunday of Advent – 2020
Today is the First Sunday of Advent. Advent is a four-week space in time, during which we draw aside from the world in preparation for the light of Christmas. Whatever we suffer in grief, illness, fear, anger, in longing for home, for love—Advent offers us respite, a refuge, a small place of rest, repentance, reconciliation and peace. A time to be still and listen to our hearts. [Excerpt from WRITTEN IN MY OWN HEART’S BLOOD, Copyright © 2014 by Diana Gabaldon.] “Are ye all right, Sassenach? Is it bad, then?” “No,” I said, and wiped my eyes hastily on a corner of the sheet. “No—it—it’s fine. I just&,dash;oh, Jamie, I love you!” I did give way to tears, then, snuffling and blubbering like an idiot. “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to get hold of myself. “I’m all right, there’s nothing wrong, it’s just—” “Aye, I ken fine what it’s just,” he said, and, setting the candle and pot on the floor, lay down on the bed beside me, balancing precariously […]
“Bless the Bees”
Social Media Hashtags: #DailyLines, #GoTELLTheBEESThatIAmGONE, #Book9, #noitsnotQUITEfinished, #gettingcloser, #nowedonthaveapubdate, #Idonthaveanythingtodowithpubdates, #thepublisherdecidesthat, #HappyBirthdayClaire [Excerpt from GO TELL THE BEES THAT I AM GONE, Copyright © 2020 by Diana Gabaldon. In celebration of Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Randall Fraser’s birthday, October 20, 1918! John Quincy Myers has brought Claire a swarm of bees, and is explaining to her the notion that she should bless her new bees.] “Sit completely still. “Do God’s will,” he finished, opening his eyes. He shook his head. “Don’t that beat all? Tellin’ one bee to sit still, let alone a thousand of ‘em at once? Why would bees put up with something unmannerly like that, I ask you?” “Well, it must work,” I said. “Jamie’s brought home honey from Salem, many times. Maybe they’re German bees. Do you know a more… mannerly blessing?” His lips pursed dubiously, and I caught the glimpse of one or two ragged yellow fangs. Could he still chew meat? I wondered, revising the dinner menu slightly. I could dice the rabbit meat small […]