It has happened once again. I have been lost in an alternate universe and now that the journey has ended I cannot find anything else to make up for it. I have recently finished the sixth book in Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series. While A Breath of Snow and Ashes will never live up to Gabaldon's freshman masterpiece, I am still feeling very dejected at finishing this latest installment. I love the world of Jamie and Claire Fraser. In a sick way I yearn for the life that they lived, the hardships 17th century America and the rest of the world required. Their's was a busy, labor enduced society with war and fighting being second nature, as was working for every luxury needed to survive. Gabaldon paints a much realer picture than is often thought of when looking back on civilization. It is through her books that I see how hard and precious life really is. Disease could take out a whole community in several days. Crops don't grow and the family starves. Drunken bandits kill a family for a few animals or possessions to trade. These are worries I have never thought of and yet, this world Gabaldon created is a part of me.
What I find equally disappointing is that I have not yet moved on. For the time being, no other books are quite as good. Nothing can hold my attention quite as well as, and I find myself day-dreaming about past Fraser adventures and checking Gabaldon's web page for more news of her next installment.
I even tried reading Gabaldon's Lord John and the Private Matter mystery in hopes that the story would be equally stimulating. But, to no avail. It just does not capture my attention the same.
So, I will keep searching for that next great book to read. Unfortunately, I might be passing up some goods one's while my temperament readjusts. In time I will move, but I will never forget Jamie Fraser.
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