Written in My Own Heart's Blood (Outlander)

Typos and Terminology

Owing to the interesting idiosyncrasies of Scots dialect, some words may appear to be misspelled—but they aren’t. For instance, while an English cook may have made her flapjacks on an iron griddle, her Scottish counterpart was frying sausages on a hot girdle. (This occasional transposition of sounds results in such entertaining items as a Scottish dessert known as “creamed crud” (“curd” to the less-imaginative English). It also results in the occasional inattentive reviewer denouncing the occurrence of “typos” in my books. This is not to say that there aren’t any typos—there always are, no matter how many eyeballs have combed the pages—just that “girdle” isn’t one of them.


Besides dialectical idiosyncrasies, there are also the oddities due to obsolete (but entirely accurate) usage. For example, at one point in this book, you will find someone hiding behind a pile of “spiled” barrels. I do not mean “spoiled,” and it isn’t a typo. “Spiled” means that a spile (a small wooden peg or spigot) has been driven into a cask in order to broach it and draw off liquid. So the pile is composed of barrels that have been drained of their contents. (Yes, I could indeed have said “a pile of empty barrels” instead, but what fun would that be?)

Bibliography/LibraryThing

Having been an academic for a good long time, I appreciate the virtues of a good bibliography. Having been a reader of novels for a lot longer, I sort of don’t think extensive bibliographies belong in them.

Still, one of the side effects of reading historical fiction often is a desire to learn more about events, locations, flora, fauna, etc., described therein. I have a goodish number of references (about 1,500, last time I counted), acquired over the last twenty-odd years of writing historical fiction, and am happy to share the bibliographic information for these.

As it’s not convenient to do that individually with a large number of people, I’ve put my whole reference collection (as of the beginning of 2013, at least) on LibraryThing—this being an online bibliographic site, where people can catalog and share their personal library information. My catalog is public, and you should be able to access all of it using my name as a keyword. (Individual references also include keywords like “medicine,” “herbal,” “biography,” etc.)



1 For example, Nathanael Greene’s remarks about Quakers are taken from his own letters, as is his reference to his father’s discouraging reading as “tending to separate one from God.”

2 With regard to maps and distances, etc., it’s worth noting that such things as township boundaries did change between the eighteenth century and the twenty-first. Ergo, Tennent Church is now in Manalapan, New Jersey, whereas originally it was in Freehold Township. The church didn’t move; the township did.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


It takes me about four years to write one of the Big Books, what with research, travel, and the fact that they are er big. During that time, LOTS of people talk to me and kindly offer advice on everything from How to Reseat an Eyeball to what kind of a mess indigo-dyeing really makes, entertaining trivia (such as the fact that cows do not like daisies. Who knew?), and logistical support (mostly in terms of remembering when the people in my books were born and how far it is from point A to point B and in which direction—I went to a parochial school that stopped teaching geography in the fifth grade, so this is Not One of My Strong Points, and as for personal chronology, I just don’t care whether a given character is nineteen or twenty, but apparently lots of people do, and more power to them).

This being the case, I’m sure I’m leaving out dozens of kindly people who have given me useful information and assistance over the last four years and I apologize for not having written down their names at the time—but I surely do appreciate said information and assistance!

Among those whose names I did write down, I’d like to acknowledge . . .

My literary agents, Russell Galen and Danny Baror, without whom my books would not be published as successfully and widely as they are, and I would not have the edifying experience of opening cartons of books written in Lithuanian with my name on the front—to say nothing of the Korean edition of Outlander with the pink bubbles on the cover.

Sharon Biggs Waller, for information about the Scots Dumpy and for bringing this charming chicken to my attention.

Marte Brengle, for telling me about the forensic reconstruction of George Washington’s face, and Dr. Merih O’Donoghue, for notes on his disastrous dental history.

Dr. Merih O’Donoghue and her ophthalmologist friend, for technical commentary and useful gruesome details concerning Lord John’s eye. Also for the teaching model of an eyeball, which adorns my bookshelves and gives interviewers who enter my office the willies.

Carol and Tracey of MyOutlanderPurgatory, for their lovely photos of the battlefield at Paoli, which drew my attention to the Rebel rallying cry “Remember Paoli!” and the discovery of Lord John’s unpopular cousin.

Tamara Burke, for bits of homestead and farming lore, most particularly for her vivid description of a rooster valiantly defending his hens.



Tamara Burke, Joanna Bourne, and Beth and Matthew Shope, for helpful advice on Quaker marriage customs and absorbing discussions regarding the history and philosophies of the Society of Friends. Any error or license taken with regard to such customs is mine, I hasten to add.

Catherine MacGregor (Gaelic and French, including gruesome lullabies about beheaded lovers), Catherine-Ann MacPhee (Gaelic, phraseology and idiom, besides introducing me to the Gaelic poem “To an Excellent Penis” (see below), and Adhamh ò Broin, Gaelic tutor for the Outlander Starz television production, for emergency help with exclamations. Barbara Schnell, for providing the German and occasional Latin bits (If you want to know how to say “Shit!” in Latin, it’s “Stercus!”).

Michael Newton, for permission to use his delightful translation of “To an Excellent Penis,” from his book The Naughty Little Book of Gaelic (which I recommend highly, for assorted purposes).

Sandra Harrison, who saved me from Grievous Error by informing me that British police cars do not have flashing red lights, only blue ones.

the 3,247 (approximately) French-speakers and scholars who informed me that I had misspelled “n’est-ce pas” in an excerpt of this book posted on Facebook.

James Fenimore Cooper, for lending me Natty Bumppo, whose reminiscences of the proper way to conduct a massacre considerably eased Lord John’s journey into captivity.

Sandy Parker (aka the Archivist), for faithful tracking and analysis of the #DailyLines (these are tiny snippets of whatever I happen to be working on, posted daily on Facebook and Twitter for the purpose of entertaining people during the long time it takes me to finish a book, as well as a constant helpful flow of articles, photos, and useful nits).

The Cadre of Genealogical Nitpickers—Sandy Parker, Vicki Pack, Mandy Tidwell, and Rita Meistrell, who are responsible for the high degree of accuracy in the beautiful family tree you see on the endpapers of this book.

Karen I. Henry, for bumblebee-herding and for the “Friday Fun Facts” supplied weekly on her blog, Outlandish Observations. (The FFF are a collection of fascinating bits of trivia from the books, explored and expanded upon, with pictures.)

Michelle Moore, for Twitter backgrounds, entertaining tea mugs, and a lot of assorted other things that can best be tactfully called “creative design.”

Loretta Moore, faithful and timely mistress of my website.

Nikki and Caitlin Rowe, for designing and maintaining my YouTube Channel (which is frankly not something I ever thought I’d need, but a handy thing to have).



Kristin Matherly, who is the fastest website constructor I’ve ever seen, for her Random Quote Generator, among many other beautiful and helpful Outlander-related sites.

Susan Butler, my assistant, Without Whom Nothing Would Ever Be Mailed, a thousand necessary things would not be done, nor would I ever show up for scheduled events.

Janice Millford, Sherpa of the Everest of email and rider of avalanches.

to my friend Ann Hunt, for lovely writing and golden wishes, to say nothing of virtual flowers and raspberry gin.

the title of Chapter 13 (“Morning Air Awash with Angels”) is taken from a line of the poem by Richard Purdy Wilbur, “Love Calls Us to the Things of This World.”

and the title of Chapter 117, “Into the Briar Patch,” is taken from the American folktale “Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby” (retold by various authors).

whereas the title of Chapter 123, “Quod Scripsi, Scripsi,” is courtesy of Pontius Pilate.

Joey McGarvey, Kristin Fassler, Ashley Woodfolk, Lisa Barnes, and a whole passel of other Highly Competent and Energetic People at Random House.

Beatrice Lampe, Andrea Vetterle, Petra Zimmerman, and a similar passel of helpful publishing people at Blanvalet (the German publisher).

As always, great thanks to those practitioners of Eyeball-Numbing Nitpickery whose time and devotion results in a much better book than this would be without them: Catherine MacGregor, Allene Edwards, Karen Henry, Janet McConnaughey, Susan Butler, and especially Barbara Schnell (my invaluable German translator) and Kathleen Lord, copy editor and unsung heroine of the comma and timeline, both of whom always know how far it is from Point A to Point B, even if I would rather not find out.

and my husband, Doug Watkins, who sustains me.