If I could say only one word about George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones, that would be it. For five years, my husband has been urging me to read the books. I was too busy with my own book lineup, I couldn’t start on this series. I used to wonder why he was so hooked and emotional about it — now I know.
It has been a while since I felt a mixture of gladness, anger, love, hatred, hope, frustration, and most of the time depression. All at the same time. For a book! To top all of these, I am shedding tears for a fantasy saga! Unbelievable. Like the husband I am now hooked. I’m on the last few pages now. I already know how it ends, yet I’m refusing to watch the HBO series until I’m done reading. King Robert has died, Ned is in the dungeons at Red Keep and war has begun. I am bracing myself for more heartaches. Bring out the Kleenex!