After a decade hiatus and a two years of sitting on my bedside, I finally completed Go Tell the Bees That I am Gone, the 9th book in Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. It was wonderful and immersive and like reuniting with old friends. If you haven’t read this series, I urge you to do so. It is one of my all time favorites.
War leaves nobody alone. Neither the past, the present, nor the future offers true safety, and the only refuge is what you can protect: your family, your friends, your home.
Jamie Fraser and Claire Randall were torn apart by the Jacobite Rising in 1746, and it took them twenty years of loss and heartbreak to find each other again. Now it’s 1779, and Claire and Jamie are finally reunited with their daughter, Brianna, her husband, Roger, and their children, and are rebuilding their home on Fraser’s Ridge—a fortress that may shelter them against the winds of war as well as weather.
But tensions in the Colonies are great: Battles rage from New York to Georgia and, even in the mountains of the backcountry, feelings run hot enough to boil Hell’s teakettle. Jamie knows that loyalties among his tenants are split and it won’t be long before the war is on his doorstep.
Brianna and Roger have their own worry: that the dangers that provoked their escape from the twentieth century might catch up to them. Sometimes they question whether risking the perils of the 1700s—among them disease, starvation, and an impending war—was indeed the safer choice for their family.
Not so far away, young William Ransom is coming to terms with the mysteries of his identity, his future, and the family he’s never known. His erstwhile father, Lord John Grey, has reconciliations to make and dangers to meet on his son’s behalf and on his own, and far to the north, Young Ian Murray fights his own battle between past and future, and the two women he’s loved.
Meanwhile, the Revolutionary War creeps ever closer to Fraser’s Ridge. Jamie sharpens his sword, while Claire whets her surgeon’s blade: It is a time for steel.
Over the course of a sleepless month back in 2009, when Whit was a newborn, I read books 1-7. You’ll know that this in and of itself is pretty epic if you’ve ever seen one of her books (they aren’t little). I took care of my littles during the day, reading every chance I had. I stayed up all night, reading while feeding the baby. But I remember those days so clearly and fondly!!
What’s on your bedside?
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