I did it. I finished all five books of Games of Thrones. Close to 5,000 pages. Thank you, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you served me well.
My adventure began when I watched the HBO series and wanted to know what happened after the final episode of season 1. And since I have my doubts I’ll live another five years to see the episodes tell the story, I downloaded the Kindle versions.
And oh, what a series. Books 1 -3, amazing. Book 4, good. And book 5, very good and better than the Amazon reviews led me to believe.
But there’s a catch. The story isn’t over. 5,000 pages and it’s still going – at its own careful pace, which is why some reviewers dinged it. Worst of all, it was six years between the last two books. I can’t wait that long for the next book. I may not have another six years.
George R. R. Martin, if you read this, get your writing groove on, please. I need to know what happens. Call me. I have some ideas. I’ll help you write some chapters. Hurry, before this blood clot in my neck gets angrier.
Valar Morghulis, but not until I’ve read book six.