The Outlandish Companion - Diana Gabaldon [161]
⋆That’s really all there is to it. They don’t make you take a Changing-Careers Exam, you know, or apply for a Novelists License. Write a book and poof! you’re a novelist, just like that. Much easier than becoming a doctor or a firefighter.
BOTANICAL; MEDICINE: DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME
n occasion, the boilerplate clauses in book contracts I’ve received have included something like the following: (Page 2, clause 3) “The author guarantees… that any recipes, formulae, or instructions in [the book] will not injure the user.”
To which I was obliged to reply (via my agent): “Given that these books are set in the eighteenth century, and make frequent and explicit reference to medical practices of the period, I couldn’t reasonably agree to this particular provision. Anyone seeking to abort themselves by means of taking blue cohosh, for instance, would almost certainly be injured. While I think the circumstance unlikely—still less, that someone would treat headache by drinking powdered amethysts, cauterize a wound with boiling water, or treat concussion by trephining the skull—I do think we must delete this phrase.”
The British publisher who printed Cross Stitch did in fact include an author’s note in the book, urging readers not to dose themselves with recipes given in the book and warning them about the dangers of practicing uninstructed herbal medicine. This was done at my suggestion, but neither they nor the American publishers have thought it necessary to do this for subsequent books. For what it’s worth, I haven’t yet heard of any readers succumbing to the effects of any recipe in the books (mind, rubbing the penis with a diamond to ensure potency is likely harmless, but still…).
The author’s note in Cross Stitch reads:
I would also like to note that while the botanical preparations noted in the story were historically used for the medicinal purposes indicated, this fact shouldn’t be taken as an indication that such preparations are necessarily either effective for such purposes, or harmless. Many herbal preparations are toxic if used improperly or in excess dosage, and should be administered only by an experienced practitioner.
I suggested to the American publisher that we include a similar note in Outlander, just as a precaution. The general reaction was a) “We’re trying to sell this as a commercial novel, quit with the footnotes already,” and b) “Nobody would be stupid enough to use eighteenth-century medical treatments, anyway.”
Well… I really hope no one would use antiquated medical treatments described in a time-travel novel (I mean, it does say FICTION on the spine, after all….), but what with the increasing interest in herbal therapies and alternative medicine in general, I do get frequent questions regarding my sources, or requests for recommendations. People want to know how I know all this stuff—am I an herbal practitioner myself? Am I a professional botanist?
Definitely not.
I do grow herbs in my garden, though. I cook with them (I have a very nice recipe for chicken and mushrooms in orange juice with fresh marjoram, which I will include at the end of this section, in case you’re interested), and I collect exotic mints (did you know there are varieties of mint that smell like pineapple, bergamot, orange, apple, grapefruit and chocolate?).
I also grow other herbs for aroma: rue (I’m told you can eat this in sandwiches, like watercress, but since I don’t really like watercress, I haven’t tried it), lavender, and lemon balm—or as insect repellants: yarrow, pennyroyal, and marigold (pennyroyal is strong enough to repel just about anything, believe me).
Marigolds are also recommended as gopher repellants, under the theory that gophers won’t eat them. However, I can state categorically that gophers will too eat marigolds. Of course, I seemed to have unusually stalwart gophers; they even ate the okra plants (no, I don’t eat okra. My father-in-law eats okra). Granted, they ate the