Written In My Own Heart’s Blood is the eighth installment in Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series, which she began way back in 1991. I fell in love with the series when I found a copy of Outlander at a used book sale about ten years ago, and I have awaited each new book with ever-decreasing excitement since then. The original concept was good, and I enjoyed the main characters (Jamie and Claire, for all you non-Outlanders), but the plot jumped the shark about three books ago. I actually slammed this one shut and yelled, “REALLY??” at the empty living room when Claire started meeting not only historical personages but fictional characters FROM OTHER PEOPLE’S BOOKS. I can suspend my disbelief well enough to buy her hanging out with George Washington, but Natty Bumppo is just too much.
So I should really quit reading this series. But I can’t. The problem is twofold. First, I have invested dozens of hours and thousands of pages (about 5000, by my count) in this saga. If I give up now, I would feel like all that effort was for naught. I’m not a quitter, gosh darn it! But I also feel I owe it to Jamie and Claire to stick with them to the end. They’re like old friends—we don’t have much in common anymore, but we have too much history together to drift apart now. Since Written In My Own Heart’s Blood ends with the door wide open for another installment, I guess I’ll be reading Outlander #9 one of these days.
Located in Adult Fiction (FIC GABALDON)