Outlander

“Murtagh was right about women. Sassenach, I risked my life for ye, committing theft, arson, assault, and murder into the bargain. In return for which ye call me names, insult my manhood, kick me in the ballocks and claw my face. Then I beat you half to death and tell ye all the most humiliating things have ever happened to me, and ye say ye love me." He laid his head on his knees and laughed some more. Finally he rose and held out a hand to me, wiping his eyes with the other. You're no verra sensible, Sassenach, but I like ye fine.” 

I stumbled into the pages of Outlander (Diana Gabaldon, 1991) one cold and wintry afternoon. It was New Years Eve, almost two years ago. And, as usual, I opened the first page immediately. I did not emerge from the book again until I had turned the last page. I sat in my green chair, drinking tea and coffee, reading that book, for two whole days. I read for hours, and hours, and hours. My real life stopped completely.

Claire Randall of 1945 accidently touched the standing stones at Craigh na Dun, near Inverness, Scotland, and was immediately back in time to the same place in the Scottish countryside of 1743.

Claire, at first, furiously fought the time change, determined to make it back to 20th century Scotland, and to her husband, Frank. She made numerous attempts to reach the stones on her own, but every chance proved ruinous.

She gradually learned to love her new life. She married Jamie Fraser, a strong clan warrior. Very good things happen, and very bad things happen; Claire changes lives everywhere she goes. It’s a marvelous tale of love, evil, war, and mystery.

The amazing thing about this book, and the entire series, is the tremendous number of Diana followers. Her readers are diehard fans. When we're talking about 900+ pages of text, you have to be really committed.

This summer, Starz debuted the Outlander Series television show. As a result, the Outlander Facebook group has seen a record increase in numbers. Since the show started, it’s been wonderful to be reminded of what a great book this is. It’s so much fun to experience the same emotions as strangers across the universe. Although I’m not as much of a diehard fan as some (I’ve only read the first book – there are eight so far in the series), I enjoy knowing others are as crazy as I am about fictional stories and imaginary characters. The recent "mid-season finale" aired, landing on a cliffhanger (of course) causing those who had not read the book to clamor for more!

While this post is not only about the television show, I appreciate that the show has brought more people "into the fold" and encouraged them to read the series. I love when a show creates such an excellent translation, that fans want to know more, so they go read the book.

Outlander is a spellbinding book, but not for everyone. It requires a pretty intense commitment, but it is well worth your time. 

This post is part of the 31 Days of Bibliophilia series. 

The Witch of Blackbird Pond

“The answer is in thy heart. Thee can always hear it if thee listens for it.”

In April of 1687, young Katharine “Kit” Tyler arrived at her uncle’s house in Wethersfield, Connecticut. She had given him no warning. When she left Barbados, her only guardian, her grandfather, had just died, leaving her within reach of a 50-year old man who was attempting to marry her. She fled. She had not sent word of her journey because she was afraid they would deny her a haven she desperately needed. She had nowhere else to go. Her parents had died when she was young.

When the ship, the Dolphin, was nearly at its destination, a small girl, Prudence, who had been standing along the railing, lost hold of her little cloth doll. The doll flew out into the water, the child cried out. Kit, used to swimming in the warm beautiful water of Barbados, jumped instinctively into the water to rescue the child’s doll. Shocked at the coldness of the water, she sputtered and gasped. She managed to rescue the doll, but was rewarded with wary eyes and suspicion when she was finally hauled back aboard.

Not many people in that area and time knew how to swim; women were considered witches if they floated when tossed into a body of water. And this was how Kit’s stay in America began.

She showed up on her uncle’s doorstep, unannounced. It was quite the spectacle. She was full of life, and vigor, bouncing into the house with the Barbados sunshine radiating from her face.

She was another mouth to feed though. His wife had had no sons. He went out early in the morning and worked in the fields all day by himself. Every household at that time had to make their own everything. They carded wool, they weaved, knitted, they made soap, bread. Nearly everything was handmade. Not because of the novelty, like a hipster, but out of necessity. They made near everything they possibly could. What they could not make, they bartered for. It was a very difficult life.

Kit started teaching the small children at the dame school. One afternoon, she had the children act out part of the Bible, the tale of the Good Samaritan, as a way to learn the story. The head of the school shows up just as the children are getting carried away in their acting out of the story. Enraged that they would do such a blasphemous thing, he sent all the children home.

Kit flees. She encountered Hannah, an old widowed woman who lived outside the village in a beautiful meadow. She is shunned from the Church Meetings because she was a Quaker. Hannah and Kit became very close friends. Nat, the son of the captain of the Dolphin, was also Hannah’s friend. He would take care of her little house, fixing the thatched roof, chopping wood for her for the winter, and looking after her when he could. Kit became close friends with him as well. Although she didn’t realize it right way, she fell in love with him.

Kit was warned by her uncle to stay away from the old woman. This is one thing that I feel often happens, in every time in history: people shame and deride and shun things they don’t or can’t understand. Children in the village started falling ill. Because sickness was not understood, the villagers blamed Hannah. She was accused of being a witch.

A mob gathered and burned Hannah’s small house to the ground. Kit rescued Hannah, managing to haul her safely to the river, and handed her off to Nat, who took her to the Sparrow. He intended to carry her to her family in a more Northern area of the East coast. She refused to leave without her cat. He braved the wrath of the town to fetch her beloved cat.

Kit returned to the town, she was accused and arrested of being a witch. She had secretly taught Prudence to read and write. Prudence, whose parents couldn’t read or write, and thought she was unable to learn, believed Kit had put Prudence under a spell. Prudence proved that she was not controlled by witchcraft when she read a passage of scripture to her astonished mother and father and the rest of the courtroom.

This is a wonderful book. I think everyone should read it at least once. Despite the delicious twists and turns, every character (even the cat) gets their happy ending; I believe some books are just meant to be that way.

The Witch of Blackbird Pond, 1958, Elizabeth George Speare

This post is part of the 31 Days of Bibliophilia series. 

The Book Thief

“…I'm always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both. ”

You can discover this book anywhere: you can Google it and read the synopsis, you can ask your friends, you can even watch the movie.  I won’t tell the entire story here.

It’s the beautiful, heartbreaking, amazing story of Leisel. She was orphaned. And her brother died in her arms on a cold winter day. As her brother was lowered into the ground, she spotted a small dark book on the ground: The Gravedigger’s Handbook. She stole it.

Leisel makes friends in her new home, goes to school, reads, and steals more books. And reads some more.

This is a young girl, growing up in the middle of war, discovering love, and words, and books and evil. It is not only about Leisel the book thief - that is only part of the story. It’s about Leisel growing up, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of war. We see her struggles with awkwardness, with boys, and with her relationships with her new parents, and we see her emerge on the other side, stronger.

Told from Death’s point of view, it is compelling: “I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn't already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race-that rarely do I ever simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.” 

Markus Zusak tells a bittersweet tale with grace and kindness. 

Every word was crafted to fit next to its neighbor in a perfect harmony. There is happiness, joy, awkwardness, love, grief, worry - emotions drip from the pages and engulf me.

My favorite kind of book - the kind that grabs me, shakes me, and never lets me go.

If you've never read this, I encourage you to. It’s one of those great books that will stay with you for a long time.

This post is part of the 31 Days of Bibliophilia series. 

The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle

“A sailor chooses the wind that takes the ship from a safe port. Ah, yes, but once you're abroad, as you have seen, winds have a mind of their own. Be careful, Charlotte, careful of the wind you choose.” 

I first found The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle (by Avi, published 1991) in one of the flimsy plastic spinner racks in the Young Adult section of the public library in Grand Island, Nebraska. It was a paperback with a drawing of Charlotte standing confidently on the deck of an old wooden ship, wearing a blue and white dress, her dark brown hair tossed by the wind.

Charlotte started her journey on the shores of Liverpool, England in the summer of 1832. She had just completed her final years at an all-girls finishing school. She was to sail across the Atlantic, and meet her parents and younger siblings in Boston. 

Once aboard, she immediately became very good friends with the man in charge: Captain Jaggery. Despite the common belief of a woman being bad luck at sea, he welcomed her, and treated her as a friend. He never tired of telling Charlotte everything about his vessel, the Seahawk.

He told her to inform him of any mutinous activity she saw on board the ship.

She also befriended a kind crewmember, Zachariah, and he gave her a dagger, for her protection. (She was the only female on board the ship.) 

Charlotte was blinded initially, to who the captain truly was, "Not even the same lowering mist I'd observed when I first came from my cabin could dampen my soaring spirits. Captain Jaggery was a brilliant sun and I, a Juno moon, basked in reflected glory." 

But she soon discovered that he was a cruel and evil man. He whipped Zachariah so badly that he died.

For some reason (I don't quite remember what it was) Charlotte is seen by the Jaggery as being the cause of Zachariah's death. Jaggery declared that Charlotte had to take his place among the crew.

In order to prove her worthiness to everyone, she had to climb the highest mast on the ship, and return to the deck without falling into the sea, or smashing to her death on the deck below. 

She accomplished this task, slowly, narrowly escaping with her life. But she did it, she never gave up.

The captain angrily tossed her belongings below deck to the crew quarters. It was dark and wet and smelly. They slept next to the cargo. The crew created a tiny corner with some old canvas so that she had some privacy. 

From that day forward, Charlotte was a crew member. It was extremely tough work. They taught her how to repair the sales, how to coil the ropes, how to use her knife. She learned to climb to every spot on the ship. She was sunburned. She chopped off her long unruly hair. The ropes ran nimbly through her hands, taking her skin with it. She started wearing their old clothes. She got used to functioning on very little sleep. She became one of them. She proved her worth many times over, and was fully accepted into their ranks.

She grew stronger. She developed her own strength, both in her body, and in her mind. 

A hurricane hit, and amid the chaos and hubbub, Charlotte saw someone she recognized. It was Zachariah. She hadn't known it, but he had been hiding in the brig, ever since his horrible lashing.

Most of them lived through the hurricane. The ship was badly damaged, but they were still alive. Most of them.

Someone had stabbed Mr. Hollybrass, the first mate, during the storm. His cold and lifeless body was discovered near the Captain's quarters. Charlotte's dagger was lodged deep in his chest. 

There was a trial. 

There was a mutiny. 

Captain Jaggery chased Charlotte around the Seahawk, attempting to kill her because she had taken part in the mutiny. There was a sea swell, the ship dipped into the dark water; the jolt knocked Jaggery off the deck and into the sea. She made a feeble attempt to rescue him. 

But he was lost. 

The crew voted unanimously for her to become their new captain. She accepted graciously. But since she didn't have the practical knowledge needed, Zachariah became her first mate. 

When the ship arrived safely in the Boston harbor, (in order to return to her previously "normal" life) Charlotte found some of her dresses, and put one on. Her family made disparaging remarks about the horrid state of her work-worn hands, her chopped hair, and the untidiness of her clothing. In the early morning hours of her first day home with her family, she quietly removed her dress, and her corset; she put on the clothes she'd worn on the ship, and sneaked out. 

She returned to the harbor, to the Seahawk, her home.

As in most of my favorite books, Charlotte provides a strong female character - a strong, transforming female character. She started her journey as a young, naive, helpless schoolgirl, and she emerged on the other side, stronger, resilient, and independent. She transformed who she was supposed to be. Rather, I think she always was that person: through the trials and adventures she experienced, she became who she really was. 

"But before I begin relating what happened, you must know something about me as I was in the year 1832 - when these events transpired. At the time my name was Charlotte Doyle. And though I have kept the name, I am not – for reasons you will soon discover – the same Charlotte Doyle."

This post is part of the 31 Days of Bibliophilia series. 

The Maze Runner

When I saw the trailer for the movie The Maze Runner (book by James Dashner, 2009), I immediately texted myself. I text myself reminders. Usually book titles I want to read, but mostly grocery lists. I wanted to remember to read the book before the movie was released. I'm funny like that. 

My copy arrived on a Wednesday afternoon right before lunch time, I had finished it by Thursday night. To say it's a page turner is a vast understatement. I lived in that book for two days. They rest of my real life was a shadowy ghost in the background, pestering me with silly things like work, eating, and sleeping. Minor annoyances that briefly interrupted my reading.

Our hero, Thomas, tumbled into The Glade. He had no idea what was happening. There were several other boys his own age living in the Glade. They had a system in place. A way of functioning that worked for them. He disrupted their lives. When he arrived, things started happening that had never happened before.

The other boys didn't like this of course, and most had a strong dislike (one, hatred) for him and his mere presence in the Glade.

He acclimated quickly to his surroundings. He learned about the various jobs: gardener, butcher, cook. But what he really wanted to do was be a runner. 

A maze surrounded the Glade, with giant gates closing every night at dusk, keeping the "Gladers" inside at night. In the daylight, the runners run into the maze, trying to find a way out. The group had been there for two years, and still found no way out. 

There were strange creatures out in the maze. The Gladers knew them as Grievers. They had slimy, greasy bodies, with metal components like scissors and needles sticking out. Few survived an encounter with a Griever. 

A few days after Thomas arrives, a girl is deposited in the glade. Teresa. A note attached to her unconscious body says, "She's the last one, EVER." 

Of course this was ominous. One night, shortly after, the gates didn't close at sundown. The Grievers storm into the glade, attacking the boys and Teresa. Some were dragged into the maze and killed. 

In the days that followed, Thomas the group into the maze, and they attempt to find a way out. I'm not telling you anymore of the story. 

Other than life's necessary interruptions, I did not stop reading this book until I reached the very end. Dashner weaves a very compelling story. Cold surprises will reach around the corners of the maze and grab your neck. Watch out!

My copy.

This post is part of the 31 Days of Bibliophilia series. 

Look Through my Window

These posts may not always be about the specific book in the title. This series is about my love of books, and my journey as a bookworm. Hopefully, I am sharing my love with you, and I hope that it's propelling you to investigate books you've never heard of.

Books are my friends, books are my sanctuary.

They have taught me many lessons. When I was growing up, I wasn't normal. I wasn't the hilarious, chipper, outgoing (sometimes) girl you know. I will always be an original. I am a unique imprint on the world. 

But, I had a different growing-up experience than most people. I was isolated. Uneducated. Socially obtuse.

My window to the real world was books. My escape. They have always been an escape.

(That window was a bit skewed by me only being allowed to read "old" books, but, it was still a window.)

My journey through life is littered by hundreds of books. I'm shaped by them. Changed by them. I'm affected by them in ways that maybe only other bookworms understand.

Look Through my Window (Jean Little, published 1970) was one of the most life-altering books of my young life.

How did such an obscure, unknown book change my life?

Jean told me I could write. Jean told me I had stories worth telling. I learned that I could write poetry. It didn't matter if it didn't rhyme, it was still a poem. I could be different, and it was okay. (This was the only window of my life in which I wrote poetry and truly believed it was good.)

The story, briefly, is about Emily, a bookworm, stumbling through adolescence, who found two new friends who are all different than her, but they click despite their differences. They each had three distinctive writing styles, they learned from each other, they formed a writing club. 

Life had been quiet and peaceful for Emily, but with her three new friends and their little siblings, it was a new, different kind of life, filled with chaos and noise, with overflowing bathtubs and missing children. It's as wonky and wonderful as it sounds.

I challenge you to pick up a book and learn a lesson from it.

Words have life. Words on the page leap gloriously into our imaginations. They are so powerful.

Words can change the world.

My copy.

This post is part of the 31 Days of Bibliophilia series. 

The Scarlet Pimpernel

“They seek him here, they seek him there
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere
Is he in heaven or is he in hell?
That demned elusive Pimpernel”

The Scarlet Pimpernel is my favorite book of all time. I may have said many books are my favorite, but this title is what pops into my head if someone asks me, "What's your favorite book?"

I discovered a Scarlet Pimpernel "omnibus" (a collection of four Scarlet Pimpernel novels) at the Kearney Public library when I was around thirteen. Baroness Emma “Emmuska” Orczy wrote several SP novels, but the first is the most well-known.

I remember the first time I read it -  and I loved it from the beginning. I reread it once a year. Recently, someone asked me why do I re-read books, if I already know what's going to happen? Why do we watch the same movie again, if we've already seen it? Because it’s a great movie, entertaining, or a great story? That's exactly why reread books. Plus, in this book, there a are a couple of favorite scenes that I look forward to with happy anticipation.

An Englishman, Sir Percy Blakeney, was a fine young stylish gentleman living in London at the time of the French Revolution. He was married to beautiful Marguerite St. Just, of France; she was a very popular actress in Paris, before he swooped in and carried her to England. 

Through a series of unfortunate events before they were married, Marguerite accidentally condemned an innocent man to the guillotine. Percy found out days after they were married, and this caused a deep chasm in their marriage. He no longer trusted her. She thought she had had him on the end of a string, but alas, she did not. They carried on, living separate lives under the same roof.

You see, Sir Percy led a double life. He was the famous Scarlet Pimpernel - the daring vigilante who snatched innocent men, women, and children from the clutches of Madame Guillotine. His darling wife had no clue. He had twenty followers, men ready to follow his orders, whatever they might be. They would lay down their lives, if needed, for the cause. 

One of my favorite chapters is the one in which Blakeney and Chauvelin (a French spy intent on capturing Percy and bringing him to the guillotine) collide in a small inn along the coast of France. Percy has just crossed they channel, planning to rescue Armand St. Just (Marguerite's brother).

They encounter each other while dinner is being served, some rancid-looking soup that was actually quite tasty, and they ended up sitting across from each other. The inn was dark and dirty. Marguerite was hiding upstairs watching events transpire. (For by then, she'd figured out who her husband really was, and had crossed the English Channel, planning to warn him of Chauvelin.) 

Neither one of them played their cards. Chauvelin acted like a friend, making small talk. Percy enjoed some soup. As Orczy writes of  Percy, “He was calmly eating his soup, laughing with pleasant good-humour, as if he had come all the way to Calais for the express purpose of enjoying supper at this filthy inn, in the company of his arch-enemy.” 

As they sat there talking, Chauvelin was mostly distracted by thinking of a way to capture his prey. Percy quietly took Chauvelin's snuff-box, emptying the contents onto the hearth, deftly replacing it with the contents of the pepper shaker. (Snuff is a finely ground tobacco that was inhaled for a small hit of nicotine, very common for this time period.)

Chauvelin, not paying much attention, clearly, took a large hit of his 'snuff' and instantly collapsed into a truly horrible fit of sneezing. His world was upside down, he had no control of his body, he was as a man possessed. In the midst of this chaos erupting across from him, Percy calmly stood up, laid money on the table for the innkeeper, and strode confidently into the black night.

There are many more fantastic chapters; but you'll have to read the rest for yourself. ;-)

This post is part of the 31 Days of Bibliophilia series.