Several friends had told me that I needed to read Diana Gabaldon – so I checked into the Library’s website and looked at the possibilities – The Outlander, a regular book, was one I had heard of. And then there was an Outlander graphic novel, called the Exile, so I ordered both of those.
They are historical, Celtic, have a lot of sex, maybe it’s romance, time travel – I should like them. But I can feel that unhealthy addictive tingle when I read them. The sex in places is more like pornography lite. Of course – it makes sense. Where were the bodice rippers going to go but to 50 Shades of Gray stuff? Though the Outlander novels were there first. But even addictive material can get boring after a while.
The graphic novel was interesting. Lots of Celts, who seem to all look alike. And the clothing / tartan differences did not always differentiate sufficiently, so I was often confused for several pages – especially between Jamie and his Uncle Dougal.
I did not find these books took me to a place of enjoyment. And I’m not even sure I’m glad I had the experience, which is often my explanation to myself for things that turn out to be less than desirable.