Why I’ve Stopped Waiting for ‘The Winds of Winter’

1.
It was my ex who first suggested I read George R.R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones. “I think you’ll like it,” he said, pulling his copy from the wooden bookcase in the corner of his bedroom. The shelves sagged under the weight of the epic fantasies that stood staunchly like a row of guardians. “Feuding families and magic. It’s like the Wars of the Roses but with dragons.”

This last reference was a call out to my most recent reading binge: just a few months before, I had picked up ’s and fallen down the rabbit hole of Tudor history. Real Tudor history, not the creative license version Gregory took (although, despite any and all inaccuracies, I still tend to revisit both Boleyn girls on an annual basis). The palace intrigues and his six wives.