This blog will touch on the experiences I have as a writer (not to be mistaken for my experience as a writer, i.e. how many books I've written, etc); the pleasure and the pain, the joy and the grief, the satisfaction and the frustration, the magic and the reality - have I left anything out, oh yeah, the rejection, rejection and more rejection, the humiliation and the embarrassment, the jealousy and the resentment - that pretty much covers it, except for why I do it which perhaps I'll realize along the way. Are you totally confused? Good, let's begin.
The Outlander hooks you right at the beginning and holds you until the the very end.
Gil Adamson is a clever writer, a master craftsperson that feeds you just enough backstory to keep her main character credible while never interrupting rushing flow of the narrative.
Everything is there; description and detail that put you in the scene, dialogue that denotes action and develops character, word groupings that ring poetic.
Ironically, one of the paradoxes of such superb writing is that the reader never notices it specifically, but rather its end result - the pleasure of experiencing the story as opposed to reading it.
And it's a big story comprised of excellent plotting that never lets up and continues to surprise right up to the end. She peoples her plot with a circus of characters including a dwarf, a giant, and a bird lady all carefully drawn and delineated.
The setting is an important element in this story of survival and wilderness of the Canadian Rockies, their mystery and menace, are beautifully conveyed.
Set in 1902, her history as it is portrayed in the characters and events seems sound and authentic.
The events are fantastic but always within the realm of suspension of disbelieve right up until the jailbreak.
But by that point the novel had brought me so much enjoyment I was prepared to forgive the author just about anything.