I've always loved books. A bookworm from the start, I got lost as a kid in Harriet the Spy, the Trixie Belden books, Little House on the Prarie books, the Wrinkle in Time books and of course, The Chronicles of Narnia.
So I should have known better, really I should have.
A number of years ago, the women in my office were reading Outlander, the first of a now 7-book series written by Diana Gabaldon. "I'm off for a date with Jamie Fraser," one woman said, heading off, accompanied by knowing giggles from the others. "Come on," I remember saying, "you can't seriously feel that way about a fictional character." Really, I should have known better.
Finally my turn came, and I settled in to give this book a read. I came in the next day and gushed, "How is it possible to be in love with someone who doesn't exist?!" Jamie Fraser really is quite a man - very much a dreamy composite of all the best of manhood (in my humble opionion). He is tall and strong, handsome, educated, well-read, speaks many languages, can fight with a sword and his hands etc and best of all - only has eyes for one woman, his wife, Claire Randall. Claire is an amazing woman in her own right and together they make a formidable pair. Along with Jaime's dreamy attributes, he is also stubborn as a rock, prideful and I am sure other things I am forgetting. Gabaldon does a nice job of giving us the best and the worst of all her characters - in other words, giving us real people to love!
I have to say that what I love most about Gabaldon's books (all 7 - well, The Firey Cross I almost gave up on) is how rich the characters are. With the success she had with Outlander, she could have just been formulaic about the next 7 books. In some ways I suppose they do follow a general formula - but the characters mature along with the story. It is really quite wonderful. Gabaldon also happens to write great literary sex scenes, which I feel is a bonus. Sometimes the "ripped bodice quotient" (as my friend Susan and I call it) can be a bit high - which I suppose is why these books are classified as "Romance" novels but really to me they are "Historical fiction with really great sex and sometimes a bit too much violence." But I figure any book where I need to look up 5-10 words over the course of 800 pages because they are words I do not know, can hardly be considered a Harlequin.
So - thank you Diana Gabaldon - for providing me with books that can give me a rich fantasy world to escape to when my every day life gets to be too much.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Waiting for Your New Life to Begin
Our friends, Susan and Ben, recently sold their house, bought a new one and moved in record time. I was looking at Facebook tonight and noted a post from Susan about the movers arriving and unloading their stuff.
It made me think back to the summer of 2001 when I moved back to Maine to live with my then boyfriend, now husband. We live in a house that he bought from his great-aunt and uncle - a lovely older couple. They had been happily married for over 50 years and though they had no kids, had a whole lot of love. The house had a good energy to it that I suspect came from their presence here.
Anyway - I was living in Boston when my husband and I met. When we knew we wanted our relationship to last, I agreed to move to Maine. Two funny Italian-American men packed up my belongings in a big truck and headed north. We arrived before them and were too anxious to stay inside.
So, being a lovely summer' day - Rob and I pulled out two lawn chairs and sat in the shade of the garage bay - holding hands, watching the world go by, waiting for our new lives to begin.
It made me think back to the summer of 2001 when I moved back to Maine to live with my then boyfriend, now husband. We live in a house that he bought from his great-aunt and uncle - a lovely older couple. They had been happily married for over 50 years and though they had no kids, had a whole lot of love. The house had a good energy to it that I suspect came from their presence here.
Anyway - I was living in Boston when my husband and I met. When we knew we wanted our relationship to last, I agreed to move to Maine. Two funny Italian-American men packed up my belongings in a big truck and headed north. We arrived before them and were too anxious to stay inside.
So, being a lovely summer' day - Rob and I pulled out two lawn chairs and sat in the shade of the garage bay - holding hands, watching the world go by, waiting for our new lives to begin.
Smells
I work in Falmouth, Maine, a coastal town just outside of Portland. Sometimes when I leave work at night, or step out for lunch mid-day - I can smell the ocean. The smell of it - salty and fresh, always stops me in my tracks. And it always makes me smile. I have loved the ocean since I was a young girl and to me it is the smell of summer, family, joy and freedom.
I live in-land, in the country, surrounded by farm land that rapidly is being developed. Tonight I went around the corner to the country store a few miles from my house to fill my tank. I stepped out of the car and smelled the sweet smell of freshly cut hay. It was so strong in the air that if it hadn't been dark for a good 2 hours, I would have thought someone had just cut it. It smelled also of summer that is waning into fall and of some kind of honesty.
It got me thinking about smell and how often what we smell signals things around us and inspires memories and feelings. I thought of winter that is all too quickly approaching and how the air smells when snow is about to fall. And of spring, when it finally comes in Maine, the way you can smell the earth - vibrant and alive after a long winter's rest.
What does your world smell like? What scents greet you with the change of seasons?
I live in-land, in the country, surrounded by farm land that rapidly is being developed. Tonight I went around the corner to the country store a few miles from my house to fill my tank. I stepped out of the car and smelled the sweet smell of freshly cut hay. It was so strong in the air that if it hadn't been dark for a good 2 hours, I would have thought someone had just cut it. It smelled also of summer that is waning into fall and of some kind of honesty.
It got me thinking about smell and how often what we smell signals things around us and inspires memories and feelings. I thought of winter that is all too quickly approaching and how the air smells when snow is about to fall. And of spring, when it finally comes in Maine, the way you can smell the earth - vibrant and alive after a long winter's rest.
What does your world smell like? What scents greet you with the change of seasons?
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