If you’re like “What the hell did you just say?” you obviously haven’t devoured one of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander books. There are eight of them. Eat it, George R. R. Martin! At least that’s what Gabaldon’s MacBook Air says when it starts up.
Being an anti-chick book snob for so long, I started to think that I needed to take a break from weightier books with philosophical thoughts in them and give chick lit a chance – Gabaldon would probably punch me in the invisible lady nuts for that one as she thinks her books are more historical in tone.
But this is a middle-aged mama who can write sex scenes better than the Letters to Penthouse guys back in the dizzle. This lady definitely knows how to write some seriously awesome porn.
This is probably why I am a throbbing mass ripping at my corset to let my heaving breast free. It’s also probably because I’m at Smart & Final standing next to the rotisserie chicken section but the sensation is real enough.
More importantly, I’m curious as to why these books sell millions of copies. In this case, the Outlander series has sold 25 million. Like…wut?
E. L. James’ ridiculous BDSM crack Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy has sold 95 million copies. James’ writing is silly. But people straight up fainted and inappropriately touched the nearest stranger when they posted the Fifty Shades of Grey trailer online. Her inner goddess needs to go fuck herself, though, and I’m sure she’ll do that once her jet touches down on I’m Rich Bitch Island.
Everyone I know, intelligent people I respect even, have read either or both of these series. And I think I know why.
This is not your Aunt Charlotte’s Danielle Steele. This harlequin packs a boner and penchant for violence only the modern age can tolerate. Some of these scenes are enough to boil that wine in the box at Auntie’s house.
And I do believe this is first time in a WWII series, I’ve seen a guy go down on his lady. Does that happen often? I’m asking the Traveling Pants people.
Gabaldon’s writing is head and shoulders above James and she even knows a shitload about the Scots, the English, ecology, field medicine during WWII and how to spot small pox so that they had to burn that dude’s ship that time. Bummer.
But both are basically romances. And… I have to say I enjoyed James’ books and now Gabaldon’s books. I cannae put it down for verra long.
Am I this chick now? Do I just need to go buy some cat sweaters and stop banging my husband and face-fuck a bag of Werthers and just get it over with?
I’m all like in front of my computer in the backyard Saturday, finger poised over the start button on the Starz home page when I look up. My husband is shaking his head, “What’s happening to you? You watch more violence and South Park than me? Is this a brain tumor?”
I shrugged and hit play, musing within the first 30 minutes, “So that’s what Jamie Fraser looks like. I thought he’d be bigger.” My husband promptly booked me an MRI for Monday.
Another draw is this cast.
I’m fascinated by the casting of Tobias Menzies because this dude is definitely going to fulfill a lot of weird fantasies when he fucks Jamie in that prison. And he doesn’t just fuck him. He mos def annihilates him.
I have loved Menzies in many things and his last name makes me giggle but he probably had a bit of a dick twitch when he read that Wentworth prison scene. “I graduated from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. I’m on Game of Thrones for fuck’s sake. No one’s asking me to rape/torture a Scot on that show!!”
Yep. But, see, that’s one of the things that makes Outlander kind of weirdly magical.
No one’s breast is heaving. Rather, someone’s about to get fucked. Whether it’s Claire, Jamie or Scotland…it’s just a matter of time.
BTW, “Je Suis Prest” means I am ready.