Have you ever been reading a book and halfway through realized you did not want to keep reading, but you really needed to know how it ends? So you keep reading even though it's tortuous, because you have to know?
Maybe you've never experienced this, in which case you're lucky (or not, because you clearly aren't reading some of the best books out there). Anyway I am going through this right now, and it is quite an experience. I am currently reading Storm of Swords, the third book in the Song of Ice and Fire series by George R.R. Martin. This series started ages ago, and has an incredibly huge fan base. Enough that they are starting a live-action HBO series based on these books (coming out tomorrow actually).
Right now I am beginning to wonder how this guy ever managed to get such a huge fan base. This is not because his books aren't fantastic, they are. The plot is intricate, there are many well developed characters, the world is interesting with just a hint of fantasy, and the pace is enthralling. It's hard to put down. Mostly I wonder because I can't believe someone hasn't actually murdered George R.R. Martin yet and put an end to his writing days.
His books make me want to tear the pages out. And my hair. Possibly also my eyes. I don't want to ruin anything with spoilers, but I can try to give you an analogy so you can grasp the experience of reading the Song of Ice and Fire.
Pretend you are a child again. Imagine that today is your eighth birthday, and you have been looking forward to this day all year, because lets face it, eight is a much better age than seven. You have been planning with your parents for weeks now. You have a party this afternoon, and everything is going to be perfect. You got a cake, which is chocolate and huge and decorated in pretty colors with your name on it. You and your friends are going to the park to have three legged races, play pin the tail on the donkey, eat burgers and cake, run around in the woods and generally go crazy. Then there is the sleep-over where you will play video games, eat more cake, tell scary stories, watch movies, and play truth or dare (where the worst dare you could get would be to sneak into your brother's room and write in marker on his face while he sleeps).
Then imagine that about an hour before your party is to begin, it starts raining. You are very disappointed, because you were so excited about the park, but Mommy makes it all better by saying you can have the party at your house, and play all the fun games inside instead. You are placated, at least a little.
Then you get a call. It is your best friend's mom, saying that your best friend has suddenly come down with a stomach flu and is vomiting everywhere and can't possibly make your party. Again, disappointment and sadness. But there are still lots of other friends coming, and cake, and games, and movies, and more.
Your party begins, and while it's indoors because it's raining, and your best friend isn't there, it's still pretty okay. Your friends are all having a fantastic time and you almost forget that it isn't exactly how you wanted it all along. Then it's time for cake, and your mouth is watering at the thought of all that chocolate. Only on her way to bring the cake to the table, your mother slips and the beautiful chocolate deliciousness that was to be your cake goes flying and lands right on the dog. Un-salvageable. Your dog starts lapping it up in delight and you begin to cry little tears of frustration at your perfect day going haywire.
That's when you realize Mommy is hurt. Turns out she managed to twist an ankle, so she can't walk. Realizing that they need to go to the emergency room, your parents have to cancel the rest of your party, call your friends' parents, and have them all go home without cake.
While your parents are taking care of the calling, they delegate the task of cleaning up cake to you. Luckily the dog did most of the cleaning. Unfortunately, dogs shouldn't really eat chocolate, and twenty minutes later you have to clean up dog vomit instead of cake. To make it all worse, your friends are starting to mutter that this is the worst party ever, and you are the least cool person they know. Your social life is ruined.
Your friends all eventually get picked up, and you get to the hospital, trying not to show your disappointment because Mommy is hurt and you don't want her to feel badly. After all, there is always next year, right? To cheer yourself up you start imagining all the better things you will do for next year's party. Your friends will forget about today soon, Daddy says. The nice lady in the hospital gives you a lolly pop when she hears it's your birthday. It's your favorite kind, with a tootsie roll in the middle. Your brother is extra nice to you because he feels badly your birthday was ruined, and plays with you in the waiting room. There is a TV playing your favorite show and you're actually starting to feel marginally better about the whole thing.
Imagine then how you would feel when your parents come back with tears in their eyes and tell you that Mommy actually has swine flu. And also Ebola. She will spend the last few months of her life in haunting pain, then die miserably while you watch. Your father will take his own life in despair, and you will end up in an orphanage. You grow up bitter and sad and maltreated, and by the time you are sixteen are a cocaine addict. You turn to prostitution to feed your cocaine habit, then contract HIV from sharing needles.
This is how Song of Ice and Fire makes me feel. Except that I'm so invested, I keep thinking, "Maybe they will find a cure for HIV, and a wonderful doctor will save your life and fall in love with you, and you will live happily ever after! That can happen, right? Or perhaps this was all a dream and your party hasn't started yet, and you will wake up and everything will be fine! Or you will find a time machine and go back and save your party and your parents! Yeah! That will totally happen!" So I keep reading.
Hence my curiosity about George R.R. Martin's continuing existence. I feel like a relatively sane person, but the first book made me want to track this man down and start breaking his fingers, one by one, screaming, "WHY? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?" until he repents and writes the story I want. If that was my reaction, I imagine there must be someone out there enraged enough to find Martin and do something even more dire. I must be underestimating his readers though, or else Martin predicted this reaction and went into hiding, because he is still around, and still writing. The next book is coming out this summer. I will probably buy it right away and read it, cursing George R.R. Martin as I do.
Anyway I hope I haven't discouraged anyone from reading the Song of Ice and Fire series. It's absolutely perfect if you enjoy torture and misery.
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