I like to pretend that I can mingle successfully with normal people and that I function as a kind of geek liaison to the regular world, but like George Costanza I may have recently crossed the line from Man to Bum. I must confess that I’ve become totally enthralled with George R.R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire. I’m not at all into fantasy books, but I liked Lord of the Rings a lot. I tried to read Wheel of Time, I did really try, but I didn’t make it past the first couple of chapters. It was just too dang boring. But man, about a hundred pages into Martin’s Game of Thrones I was hooked forever. It has everything. Sex! Violence! Dismemberment! Zombies! My little brother’s girlfriend infected me when she gave me her much loved, tape on the spine, possibly dropped in the tub paperbacks. I’ve since passed on the plague to friends and family. One of my friends is listening to the book on tape and can now mock me when I mispronounce character names.
George R.R. Martin’s personal website is a kooky gem, I highly recommend it. It turns out he’s a very hands-on evil genius. He goes to a lot of obscure cons and even helps fans sort out grievances with dubious Ice and Fire merchandise distributors. He posts pictures of babies named after Bran and Arya. I discovered that he loves NFL football and also enjoyed The Lake House with Sandra Bullock. Actually, I wish I didn’t know that last thing.
HBO absolutely has to make this into a series. They have to make it, and it has to be kickass, or we will cry our sad, lonely nerd selves to sleep. I mean, more so than usual.
