I got A Dance With Dragons in the fall of 2011, just when I was moving to Pittsburgh. Between moving a few times, buying and selling 3 houses, starting a new job, having a baby, and general life, I haven’t had a chance to get to it. Not for lack of wanting, because it’s been on my desk or bookshelf staring me down for the past year and a half and every day I looked at it more and more longingly.
I made the decision last August to purchase a little-known author’s books at GenCon because: a) he was there and I was supporting small-time authors; b) he was a really nice guy; and c) he signed them. The books, should anyone wonder, are called The Genesis of Oblivion saga. They are, dear readers, one of the worst fantasy saga books I’ve ever read. I’ll not get into the reasons in this post, that will be for another time. Suffice to say, It’s taken me eight months to slog through two books and, aside from the last 100 pages of the second book, every moment has been painful. I’ve actually put off reading because I didn’t want to pick them up…
But I’m back to George now. Back to Westeros. The characters, the stories, the lands that I know so well. It might sound silly, but it just feels better. I was more engaged and felt more joy in reading the Prologue of Dance than I did in reading over 800 pages of Genesis.
It’s just a good feeling, when you read Martin. His words are a tapestry. A blanket that keeps you warm and safe and secure. It’s familiar and strange and scary and comforting all at the same time. It genuinely feels different.
Not just the story, but the way he writes. The meticulous precision with which he extracts story from words. It’s so clean, so refreshing, so…good (note my lack of eloquence there). Such a far cry from my last reading disaster.
Thank you George. It’s good to be home again.