Does anyone even remember my announcement that I began this book?
That’s because it was in September…why do you insist on reminding me of these things?
Thing is…it’s really, but awesomely, long.
And I am really, not awesomely, short on time.
I began worrying I’d never finish, that those who came for my body would find my fingers desperately gripping page 697, never having made to the end.
But addiction had other plans…suddenly, the book was on my lap during subway rides…falling out of my purse when I went looking for chapstick…and hiding under my pillow when I got into bed…
It went where I went, pulled me in, and whispered violently persuasive lies [more than once] that the political turmoil in Winterfell was far more pressing than the extra hour[s] of sleep.
George R.R. Martin has a secret sauce of sorts, one he spoon-feeds us at the turn of every page–fancy to find out what it is?
Alright lean in close, then…its his complete, utter, shocking lack of loyalty for any one [not.even.ONE!] character.
Small children? Why not cut off their heads? Family pets? ‘Bout time they were strung up and cut open, don’t you think? Princesses, princes, and the neighborhood cobblesmith live in equal danger, making getting through just one more chapter a stressful, but undoubtedly necessary, endeavor.
I’m going to take a bit of a break before book 2…the holidays are upon us and the last thing any party needs is the Madison caught up in the peril of a [fictional] battle for the crown…
I highly recommend those who’ve got a bit of time [or just a general disregard for time...] pick up book 1, burrow under the covers, and begin. I’d usually qualify that statement or offer comparative titles…but Martin is a uniquely masterful storyteller and I’ve a hunch no one can resist his tale.
Need a Christmas present for your favorite reader? Why not get the complete set? I’m secretly mad I’ve begun the series and disqualified myself from potentially receiving it…