Archives for the Date November 2nd, 2020

Reading for coffee…


Bartender, waiter, delivery driver: Outlander star Sam Heughan’s busy CV before big break

by Murray Scougall

November 2, 2020, 12:01 am

He might be one of the most adored actors in television thanks to Outlander, but Sam Heughan has admitted he was about to quit acting to become a full-time barman when he landed the life-changing role.

The normally private star reveals details of his personal life in the new book, and explains how he had become debt-ridden as he chased his acting dream.

Writing in the book, he explained: “Despite three months of auditioning for TV and film roles in LA, I returned to the UK penniless. I was 34 and forced to sign on to pay my rent. Two weeks later, I couldn’t face the process – the Job Centre not seeing acting as a legitimate profession – so I gave up and tried to find full-time work as a barman.

“I had done a variety of jobs to support myself over the years – delivered sandwiches by bicycle, sold perfume in Harrods, drawn up contracts for mental health doctors in the NHS and various other bar and restaurant jobs around London.

“Moving there after drama school, I had been working as a ‘jobbing actor’ for almost 12 years and it had been a real rollercoaster, some years with great success and others with only a couple of credits to add to my CV.” He continued: “Once again I found myself penniless, depressed and back in the UK. I was really beginning to question if I could keep going with no real long-term opportunities in sight.

“In the past I had trouble with the Inland Revenue and even seen bailiffs at my front door. Several loans and credit cards were drowning me and I couldn’t see a way out. I thought I’d give it another year to see if anything changed and, if not, I knew I was going to have to make drastic changes to my life.

“And then, out of the blue, I was offered a screen test for Outlander – and you know the rest.”

Speaking to The Sunday Post, Sam explained why he revealed some details of his personal life in the book.

“I’m a pretty private person generally, so it was fun to impart a bit of my history or insight into my life,” he said.

Loss Ficlet (Three), Part 2/5


This is not beta’ed. I’m trying to just enjoy writing right now, and trying not to think too hard on it. This is mostly a first draft with a very quick proofread. Any errors are my own. Thanks for the love on Part 1 of this. I’m still so shocked when people love these two. They live rent free in my head even now. xoxo.

Loss (Ficlet)
Part Two/Five
May 2020

Loss Masterlist (tumblr | AO3)

↳ Beach Boys – Don’t Worry Baby


Though he had long before mastered the art of making his face inscrutable, Jamie was unable to hide certain things from me as he woke with me in the dark.

Perspiration along his brow as he gasped a bookend into existence on the tail-end of a dream.

Shaking in his very bones when he tripped over the ledge of a full-bodied sob.

Bobbing along the column of his throat as he swallowed hard.

Exhaling as his eyes adjusted to the low light in our bedroom, his pupils contracting ever-so-slightly over a series of rapid-fire blinks.

I reached out to touch him, my fingertips testing the depth of the sweat-slicked divot between his clavicles.

“The usual?” I asked, vaguely calling to mind the standard buffet of night terrors that plagued him on and off when things became too much in his abnormally well-adjusted life.

“Sorry,” he rushed, shaking his head.  “I didna mean to wake ye.”

In truth, I’d been up and counting contractions, worrying a hole in my cheek as I pondered waking him for a run to the hospital to see if this was it .  My official due date, at that point, was twenty-three agonizing hours in the rearview mirror.  I shook my head as Jamie kicked the blankets down, drawing me to him as best as he could with the obstruction of my belly before planting a firm hand against the side of said roadblock.  His breathing was evening out, and his eyes were fixed on me in an almost eerie way.  

His fingers flexed as he noted, “Charlie’s doin’ a handstand.”

I closed my fingers over his and squeezed.  “I can’t sleep with your acrobatic child doing Circus Alba routines in there.”

He hummed, one corner of his mouth turning up.  His purposeful dodging of my question about what he had been dreaming of made my stomach clench uncomfortably. As he closed his eyes, his exhalations becoming an even metronome through slightly-parted lips, I considered letting the subject slide, but I could not bring myself to leave well enough alone.

“Are you going to tell me what you dreamed about?”

I laid a hand at the base of his throat, closing my eyes as a contraction as useless as a desert mirage threatened to make my words staccato.

It felt like an hour later when he finally said, “I was dreaming that I didn’t make it to the hospital wi’ ye.”

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