“No one gets to abuse the people of Westeros but me.” – George R.R. Martin on fan fiction.
It’s nine o’clock. After rising from bed, you place your signature flat, short-brimmed cap on your head, give your resplendent peppered beard a dutiful stroke, and turn on the coffee maker. Soon, the brew drips through to the pot below, and you look to it greedily. Black and bitter, the best way to enjoy almost anything.
The phone rings. It’s HBO, and they have some distressing news.
As of season three, Game of Thrones is reaching more fans through the television show than the books, and with season four premiering this weekend, the network is getting worried. It’s not just about the time it’s taking for you to come up with more source material any more. It’s what that material contains.
“We don’t want to commit anymore time or money to this if it’s not going somewhere we can trust to be successful, George,” the executive tells you. “You’re no Spring chicken, and Winter is coming. We need an ending. Now. This thing is too popular to risk to with your whims and ‘dancing’ deadlines. The PR nightmare of having to devolve the series into a prequel arc while you get your act together would be disastrous for the network. Send us an outline before the day is out, or we’re pulling the proverbial plug.”
The man hangs up the phone, and you slowly place your coffee mug back on the counter. Well, you think, if there are more people watching the show than reading the books, I suppose I could pick up wherever the show left off and ignore all of that Dance With Dragons nonsense. There are two things my fans like, so I just need to balance them properly to be successful: total fan service, and total wrenching tragedy. If the mix is right, there’s no way it can fail.
You grab your trusty pen and journal, and waste no time getting to work on what you’re sure is going to be the Best. Game of Thrones Book. Ever.
Okay, let’s start with something fresh: A dynamic new character to draw people back into the universe. It should be a …
Awesome. Let’s put him in…
Awesome. Let’s put her in…
He’ll have a lot of interesting happenings to deal with there. Let’s get to describing him in great, vivid detail. A good character also deals with conflict, so what’s his? You’ve got two ideas kicking about.
Born in the Vale of Arryn as an identical twin, he spent most of his days as a fishmonger trying to make enough money to support his ailing mother. When fired for a theft he didn’t commit, and faced with the impending death of his mother, he became what he never had been and stole from the local magistrate to purchase medicine. His brother was then mistakenly captured and executed for the crime, just before he could admit to it and explain the mistake. Now, though a successful merchant enjoying the luxuries he was never afforded as a child, he still sees the face of his dead twin brother in every passing reflection.
Unlucky in love for all his life, at the age of twenty he finally finds a woman he considers a potential soul mate. The wedding was as beautiful as it was expensive, and the next day he woke to find nearly everything of value in his possession gone, along with his new wife. Without the ability to trust again, he became a justice of the state, famous for delivering harsher sentences than any of his peers. One day, years later, the woman who’d betrayed him appears in his court for the same crime, but done to another man. He doesn’t understand why, but she’s the first light sentence he’s been able to pass in his career. At the age of sixty, he has finally learned forgiveness.
Great, she’ll have a lot of interesting happenings to deal with there. Let’s get to describing her in great, vivid detail. A good character also deals with conflict, so what’s hers? You’ve got two ideas kicking about.
Born in the Vale of Arryn as an identical twin, she spent most of her days as a fishmonger, trying to make enough money to support her ailing father. When fired for a theft she didn’t commit, and faced with the impending death of her father, she became what she had never been, and stole from the local magistrate to purchase medicine. Her sister was then mistakenly captured and executed for the crime, just before she could admit to it and explain the mistake. Now, though a successful merchant enjoying the luxuries she was never afforded as a child, she still sees the face of her dead twin sister in every passing reflection
Unlucky in love for all her life, at the age of twenty, she finally finds a man she considers a soul mate. The wedding was as beautiful as it was expensive, and the next day she woke to find nearly everything of value in her possession gone, along with her new husband. Without the ability to trust again, she became a justice of the state, famous for delivering harsher sentences than any of her peers. One day, years later, the man who’d betrayed her appears in her court for the same crime, but done to another woman. She doesn’t understand why, but he’s the first light sentence he’s been able to pass in her career. At the age of sixty, she has finally learned forgiveness.
Wow, that really tugs at the heartstrings! Time to seal the deal on this character by making the readers get really attached to him.
He secretly donates a quarter of his earnings to the local orphanage.
He spends a good portion of each week mentoring a young pickpocket in an honorable trade.
Wow, that really tugs at the heartstrings! Time to seal the deal on this character by making the readers get really attached to her.
She secretly donates a quarter of her earnings to the local orphanage.
She spends a good portion of each week mentoring a young pickpocket in an honorable trade.
You’re really starting to see a clear picture of this character, really getting to know him, like really know him, and you’re sure the readers will too. Your final task is to give him a role in the world of Game of Thrones, something that makes all of this development worthwhile.
He has royal blood, though doesn’t know it.
He has a mysterious magical gift that’s just now beginning to emerge.
You’re really starting to see a clear picture of this character, really getting to know her, like really know her, and you’re sure the readers will too. Your final task is to give her a role in the world of Game of Thrones, something that makes all of this development worthwhile.
She has royal blood, though doesn’t know it.
She has a mysterious magical gift that’s just now beginning to emerge.
Three hours pass, and you’ve finished mapping your newest character. You’ve written an outline for three chapters told from his point of view, in which the readers will come to know him, admire him, and if you’re lucky, even make a few memes out of him to pass around on Twitter. In short, this character is fantastic.
Obviously, you’ll need to kill him.
He slips while walking over a bridge and dies.
He’s poisoned by a character you’ll introduce a page ahead of time, then never reference again.
Three hours pass, and you’ve finished mapping your newest character. You’ve written an outline for three chapters told from her point of view, in which the readers will come to know her, admire her, and if you’re lucky, even make a few memes out of her to pass around on Twitter. In short, this character is fantastic.
Obviously, you’ll need to kill her.
She slips while walking over a bridge and dies.
She’s poisoned by a character you’ll introduce a page ahead of time, then never reference again.
Your newly developed character is dead because why not, and your readers will be eating this stuff up like Thanksgiving dinner. It’s time for some hard-hitting narrative to follow it up. You’ve written no fewer than thirty-one POV chapter characters in the series thus far, but there’s no space to finish writing most of them now.
You’ll need to stick only to the fan favorites for this last book if you want it to be the best entry yet. Based on a Facebook poll your wife showed you, that seems to mean Tyrion, Jon Snow, and Daenerys.
Tyrion is as good a place to start as any.
How to start … how to start … Okay, you think, what do people like about Tyrion? You make a list to compile your thoughts.
THINGS PEOPLE LIKE ABOUT TYRION
1. He loves the ladies.
2. The ladies love him.
3. He’s a short one.
4. He communicates primarily through witticisms and rudeness.
Using your research, the perfect scene begins to form in your mind: Tyrion is in his room at King’s Landing. Varys knocks, and is told to go away.
“Of course you know I would never dare disturb you if it wasn’t of the utmost importance,” Varys says coolly through the door.
“Fine, fine,” Tyrion replies, the words drawn out as if just speaking them is an agony.
Varys opens the door, and two nude women clutching their breasts shuffle past him giggling. He tries to speak, but before he can, Tyrion holds up a hand, signaling for him to wait. A moment later, a third woman shuffles by.
You can’t help but smile at your notes. This is hilarious already. What a little cad!
Tyrion makes a joke about Varys being a eunuch and not understanding, while trying to reach for some wine that’s up too high on the table.
Varys eyes the wine and says,
“We all have our … shortcomings, master Tyrion.”
“All the more reason a wise man should never dull the … few gifts he may possess, wouldn’t you agree?”
You’ve achieved many wonderful things as an author, but none quite so pronounced as the invention of Daenerys Targaryen. Never before in literature has a character managed to be just as presently irrelevant as she is irrelevantly present. She’s consistently synonymous with the idea of build-up, persistently removed from the idea of pay-off, and the very definition of unsatisfiable expectation. Readers desire for Daenerys to interact with the greater world of your characters perhaps more than anything else in your books. Until now, you’ve found great pleasure in denying them. Today, as you pen your final book, you’ll be forced to give in.
The primary instrument by which you’ve kept Daenerys from Westeros are her three small dragons. Until they’re grown, who could or would expect her to interact with the plot in a relevant way? They’ve served you well as a convenient leash until today, but now must be removed.
It’s time for Daenerys’ patience to wear as thin as the readers’, and get her keister across the ocean. To do that, you can introduce one of a couple plots you’ve been considering in your head.
Daenerys will go about growing her dragons to full size by means of…
A covetous merchant willing to craft a serum capable of accelerating their growth.
A cunning witch willing to take her into the underworld to seek out the spirits of past dragons.
You take a short break from writing, peacefully clearing your mind by painting small, precious figures of knight miniatures, and then dismembering, melting, or crushing them in various ways. Feeling refreshed, you place the models back onto the large scale battlefield you built in your living room and nod at the devastating scene of destruction you’ve created, proud of your work. It’s time to get back to the outline.
Okay, Jon Snow. You see what he’d likely be doing in your mind: He’s standing in a meeting, a small council of the Night’s Watch. Rangers have given reports of the walkers approaching and a decision must be made. Whichever path you choose will help to determine the final fate of his order.
Recall 100% of Watch members and head north in a massive army, dedicated to finding the source of the walkers and eradicating it.
Recall 100% of Watch members and place them defensively along Jon’s section of the Wall, prepared to make an epic last line of defense.
Tyrion reaches the wine with the aid of a nearby chair, and says,
“Yes, but I think I still prefer my own shortcomings to those of others. After all, most of mine can be overcome by something as simple as a strategically-placed stool.”
“Many men are born short, Varys, but a woman can learn to make do with short. With enough a practice, a short man can even learn to please a woman better than any tall man ever could. But a man with nothing at all? That’s a different proposition entirely.”
Tyrion reaches the wine with the aid of a nearby chair, and says,
“A man should be thankful to have a gift to dull at all. And anyway, my real gift has been hard at work for two hours now, and could use a minute or two of dullness.”
“If wine and tits make blunt my mind, then let them blunt away at it until I am a happy nub of a man!”
Varys unfurls his hands from the cloth of his robe and responds,
“An interesting image, a stool. A man propped up not by his own legs, but by a group of others. Take one away and who knows if he’ll ever reach such heights again?”
“Yes, but I imagine it must be so tiring to carry one around with you wherever you go. Being so similar in size and weight, I suppose it would be the equivalent of me carrying a bookshelf about the keep. Though, I do hear an ant can carry ten times its own weight when required.”
Varys unfurls his hands from the cloth of his robe and responds,
“Yes, practice is important. A squire strikes his lance in a bale of hay or a goat before entrusting it to do the same against a knight. I wonder if you could tell me, in your experience, which small animals have worked best for you during your own rehearsals?”
“Practice? I was always told that basic sexual performance was one of the few natural instincts of men. I truly hope the women weren’t too harsh with you when you informed them you needed to learn it.”
Varys unfurls his hands from the cloth of his robe and responds,
“Let us not be dramatic, master Tyrion, I am sure it would never get so bad that you become some sort of … nub of a man.”
“Don’t make things too easy, my lord, lest I fall out of practice conversing with nobility. That fruit, I fear, hangs too low for even a connoisseur of fruits such as me.”
Varys unfurls his hands from the cloth of his robe and responds,
“I’d always been told that while an hour was the mark of great virility, anything more was usually a symptom of, shall we say, mechanical troubles. But let any who’d say such a law applies to you be hanged from the highest branch.”
“There are many words I might use to describe you, my good friend Tyrion, though ‘dull’ would never make such a list. There are far more creative descriptors ripe for use.”
“Out with it, Varys,” Tyrion says, cocking an eyebrow. “You did not come to parry wits with me. Come. Say what you have come to say and be gone with you.”
“There have been … disturbing tales sung from the north,” Varys says. “My little birds tell me of a great host, one that King’s Landing and the rest of Westeros has been more than quite blind to. Have you heard stories of these so-called white walkers?”
“Of course,” Tyrion replies. “I’ve also heard of Betsy from Narvos, the triple-breasted whore with lungs so ironed and oiled that she could suck a dire wolf’s testicle up through a drinking straw.”
“These walkers, as they are called, are no such salacious fantasy. They’re real, and they’re about to cross the wall. You’ve seen the Watch, you’ve seen how anemic they’ve become. They will not hold these aggressors at bay, and when these dead men cross south past the now-unguarded land of the Starks, well, you can see that future as well as any. You cannot stay the Lannisters’ witty imp forever. Not this time.”
It will take a bit more for him to convince Tyrion, but you can add that all in later. For now, it’s time to make your first massive plot development, something to drop those jaws and make people Tweet things like, “No spoilers or anything, but the end of the first Tyrion chapter? Whaaaaat?!? #got”.
Tyrion will leave the Lannisters.
Tyrion will rule the Lannisters.
Fueled by that special Daenerys-flavored rage, she mounts Drogon, the largest of her dragons, and flies in a Westerosly direction across the sea to conquer the continent in the name of her dead friend.
You smile. You’re almost there. You’re heading into the final chapter, and you know, you just know that it’s going to live up to every single expectation every single reader has for it. The only problem now is whose chapter heading to place it under? Who deserves to be there for every moment of what you’re sure will go down as the most epic finale of any television show or book ever?
The short answer is no one. This is the perfect time for an all-new character. His name is George.
META!
You’re sure you can come up with a much nastier point in the book for her to find out about this, maybe when she’s just had a personal victory and is feeling great about herself. Yeah, that’s the ticket!
Currently unaware of the death, Daenerys mounts Drogon, the largest of her dragons, and flies in a Westerosly direction across the sea to conquer the continent.
You smile. You’re almost there. You’re heading into the final chapter, and you know, you just know it’s going to live up to every single expectation every single reader has for it. The only problem now is whose chapter heading to place it under? Who deserves to be there for every moment of what you’re sure will go down as the most epic finale of any television show or book ever?
The short answer is no one. This is the perfect time for an all-new character. His name is George.
META!
You crack your knuckles, sweep your beard over your left shoulder, and put on your game face. Here we go. The final chapter.
Daenerys arrives in Westeros at, you guessed it, the wall, where Tyrion and Jon Snow have just met. She, of course, knows neither of them. George (our new character who has, at this point, been given eighteen or so pages of description you can come up with later) is there watching the events unfold.
Daenerys, Tyrion, and Jon Snow circle each other (“weapons drawn?” you write in the margin) atop the wall as dragons cry out above them and walkers bellow below them. Suddenly, something breaks the tension.
Suddenly, Jon trips and the edge of his sword, Longclaw, cuts open his leather jerkin. Its scraps fall to the ground, revealing his pale, chisel-cut abs. Unable to contain the yearning unexpectedly bubbling inside of her, Daenerys unwittingly allows a deep, primal moan to escape her mouth. Tyrion is the first to pounce on the opportunity, climbing her dress until his lips can reach hers. As they touch tongues, they suddenly feel a third join the slippery dance: It’s Jon Snow’s.
As the three strip off what’s left of their clothing, Daenerys yells to the sky, a gesture Tyrion and Jon both mistake for an audible release of her palpable pleasure. Instead it was a command to her dragons, who soon swoop down and lift the three humans into the air, allowing them to continue their ménage à trois on dragonback.
Perhaps jealous of their riders’ obvious gratification, the dragons begin a threesome of their own, sibling on sibling-on-sibling in the true Targaryen style. The twisting, squirming sex cloud continues to writhe far above the wall for hours, until a raven with a message tied to its ankle appears to interrupt.
You stop writing and mop the sweat from your brow with front of your sleeve. When did it get so hot in here? Maybe it’s time to change gears. What’s the content of the raven’s message?
Tyrion attempts to break the tension with a joke, but fails. Daenerys is the first to attack. As she calls to her dragons, Jon tackles her to the ground. Tyrion takes the opportunity to jump on his back and go for a neck snap.
With the three so closely entangled, the dragons have trouble intervening on Daenerys’ behalf.
As the three humans roll around, fighting in the dirt, one of them falls.
“Then I will need to cast off the heavy, unflattering shackles of my house, let them rot, and return as a ruler capable of handling this threat in my own right,” Tyrion proclaims.
“A fine plan, my lord, but one question,” Varys says. “How will you leave while retaining your legitimacy? A leader must have followers in order to lead, and a man who turns his back on the legacy of his family is not a man others can easily find cause to follow.”
Varys should handle it by way of shocking treachery, focusing on a plot involving Sansa and Joffrey.
Tyrion should handle it personally by way of an unexpected political maneuver, focusing on a plot involving Bran and Jaime.
“I’ve saved this kingdom more times than my alcoholism will let me remember, and all the while have been little more than the butt of a joke and a target of filicide,” Tyrion proclaims. “Well, no longer. I can only continue to protect his country as the lion’s jaws. His claws, his roar. Not his arse.”
“A fine plan, indeed,” Varys replies, “and one I would of course do my best to support. However, taking over the Lannisters is no minor exploit, even for a man of your eminent stature.”
No, it’s not, you think, agreeing with the spymaster. Tyrion is going to need help, either brains or muscle. You’re sure you can rustle up a couple of likable characters to mop up this little plot problem.
He hires subversives. Focus on a plot involving Varys and Littlefinger.
He hires muscle. Focus on a plot involving Brienne and Bronn.
Varys should definitely handle this one. The readers love this manipulative spy shtick you’ve got going on and, admittedly, you rarely use it to its full potential.
Okay, let’s see, this sort of scene calls for one dash of the unexpected, and two dashes of revenge fantasy. You tap your pen against your forehead until you come up with the perfect idea.
Arya’s trainer, Syrio, had a brother named Miltos, you write, just as strong, daring, and interesting as his dead sibling. This way, we can leave Syrio dead, and yet still borrow off his popularity!
You’re a flipping genius.
So Miltos, who is totally Syrio (heh heh), is found by Varys, and told to start training Sansa in the art of Braavosi Water Dance swordplay. They montage for a bit, and despite how abhorrently obnoxious Sansa’s character has become, the audience will soon love her for no other reason than she can now put out a candle by swiping it with a sword.
Miltos thinks Sansa is ready, and sends her off to face Joffrey in a duel to the death. Joffrey, being the little pugnacious wiener that you’ve written him to be, accepts the open challenge gladly, eager to have an excuse to kill a young girl because, well, he’s Joffrey and that sort of thing appeals to the Joffreys of the world.
The only question is, should you go the fan service route and let her murderize him, or troll your readers by building up to this epic moment, then letting her die in the process? Either way, you can come back around to how this helps Tyrion later.
Tyrion can handle this himself. After all, he’s a warrior, a diplomat, super intelligent, a sensitive lover, and every other likable trait you can think of whenever it’s convenient for your book. And the fans will always, always go along with it. Because it’s Tyrion.
The plan is simple: Summon Bran and present him to Jaime. This is going to seem like it has nothing to do with Tyrion’s goals at first, but then later, when its connection is revealed, people will be super impressed with how clever you are.
Thumbs up.
So, the raven goes out, you write in your journal. Bran comes back to King’s Landing from wherever he’s at these days — you can look that up in your old books later — and Tyrion somehow puts him into a room with Jaime.
Drama time! Jaime is accused of casually defenestrating Bran, and it’s up to Bran to decide how he’ll deal with it. Bran has grown up — no question — but how has he grown up? What will you have him do?
Forgive Jaime. He’s a likable character these days.
Execute Jaime for his crimes.
Okay, Sansa bites it, making all of the prose dedicated to her training a complete waste of everyone’s time. Perfect.
Before moving on, you stop to think on the scene. But Sansa can’t just die, you think. She really really deserved to kill Joffrey, so in order to make this as frustrating as possible for the reader, she has to die in a seriously nasty way.
Eventually you decide that during the battle, Joffrey is about to lose, but then grabs the head of her dead father, shakes it and does a weird impression of him until she cries, then bludgeons her to death with it while laughing. Makes sense.
You circle back to your earlier page of notes. Right! So, that’s where Varys can come in. See, he arranged it so that a procession of guests were to be parading through that section of the palisade at the precise moment of the duel, leaving a large number of witnesses to the king’s heinous act.
Joffrey pulls his “I’m king so whatever” line, and Tyrion follows it with a public appearance in which he prattles on about how abhorrent he finds Joffrey, and how it pains him but he must now leave the lion behind. The people cheer him on and, buoyed by their support, Tyrion heads off to the wall to scout out the impending threat to Westeros.
While he’s travelling, you decide to change character. How about one that’s already at the wall?
As much as you’d like to, you know you can’t troll your audience 100% of the time, and so here and there you have to give them a taste of what they claim to want in postings on Reddit. This is the last book, after all, so what the heck. You’ll give in.
Sansa uses her training to kick the absolute crap out of Joffrey. Adding insult to injury, just as he realizes he’s going to die, Joffrey cries and calls out to his guards and the Hound to save him. No one moves an inch to help.
Sansa smashes the hilt of her sword into the side of Joffrey’s head, knocking off his crown — YEAH! SYMBOLISM! — and denting it inward. Bleeding from his temples, he begs for her mercy. Sansa silently lifts the crown, and for one fleeting moment, Joffrey thinks she’s going to place it back on his regal scalp. And she does. Sort of.
Sansa quickly flips the crown it upside down and places it back onto his head, spikes first. Joffrey calls her a bitch or some such uninspired Joffrey-ism, but it’s too late: her palm slams down on the base of the crown, jamming its ten bejeweled spines through his skull and into his brain.
His limbs do that wiggly after-death thing for a bit as he hits the floor. Yeah, that would be awesome. You draw a small arrow pointing to that bit and notate it such in the margin.
With Joffrey dead, the Lannisters fall into disarray. They turn to Tyrion for help, but instead of aiding them, he publically exposes the horrors of Joffrey’s reign, supports Sansa’s actions, and maintains the goodwill of the citizenry when he officially leaves his house some days later.
With King’s Landing in turmoil, he heads confidently to the North, now ready to scout for whatever threat lies beyond the wall.
You decide to change characters before this gets boring.
Bran tells Hodor to execute Jaime. After all, what would have been the point of taking a reprehensible incest artist and somehow making readers sort of like the guy if you weren’t just going to cut all of that character development short by killing him at a moment’s notice?
Hodor says, well, “Hodor!” — you draw a small cartoon of that in the corner of the page — and thrusts a sword through Jaime’s back. You can add some sort of irony about him being killed by in the same way he killed the old king later when you’re fleshing out the manuscript. For now, The Kingslayer is dead, and Tyrion is placed in charge of explaining the events to the public.
To the surprise of the remaining Lannisters, Tyrion states that he actually agreed with Bran’s decision and calls for the same action against his sister and nephew, backing up the opinion by exposing all of the horrid things both have been involved with.
In the same breath, Tyrion explains that he must leave House Lannister so as not to be associated with such atrocities, and does so with the full support of the public.
With King’s Landing in turmoil, he heads confidently to the North, now ready to scout for whatever threat lies beyond the wall.
Sounds like the perfect time for a POV change!
Stereotypically speaking, magic uses the wisdom attribute, so it’s not too crazy to believe that Bran will be more mature now that he is sometimes a wolf.
You take a sip of coffee, and genius strikes. You love it when that happens, and it happens often.
Okay, so, because you never explain the source of or applications of magic anyway, why not have Bran’s forgiveness trigger something unexpected? Yes, with Bran’s innocent pardon, Jaime’s severed hand grows back in full!
Realizing he’s been on the receiving end of a great miracle, Jaime turns officially good instead of just incessantly flirting with the idea when narratively convenient, and leaves the Lannisters after admitting to his affair with Cersei.
The citizens of King’s Landing realize that Joffrey might be the product of incest, and begin to revolt. Tyrion uses the opportunity to stand against his family with his brother, thereby leaving the lion with the full support of the people.
Sure.
So, with King’s Landing in turmoil, Tyrion heads confidently to the North, now ready to scout for whatever threat lies beyond the wall.
Sounds like the perfect time for a POV change!
“You have contingencies for damn near everything, I’d imagine,” Tyrion says. “Put those birds of yours to work at something more useful than squawking out third-party rumors.”
Varys bows and heads off to scheme with his scheming bro, Littlefinger. These two are, of course, normally at odds, but you know your fans would love to see what they could accomplish by working together. This is your last chance to do it, so what the heck?
It’s time for a little game you like to call “Blame the Beard.” To begin, you write the first three terrible things that come to mind in your notes:
1. Incest
2. Inappropriate euthanasia
3. Genocide
Next, you take a sip of coffee, clean your mouth off with your lengthy facial hair, and see where the excess drips onto the paper when you let it go. You release the hair, and suddenly a large brown splotch appears over the first entry. Incest it is.
So, you’re trying to destroy, kill, or otherwise ruin three characters here: Joffrey, Tywin, and Cersei. Since Joffrey is already tainted by incest, that just leaves only … bingo!
Varys uses his knowledge of anything the plot requires to discover that Tywin goes to the Golden Pony Brothel every Wednesday at eight. He then uses one of his “employees” (a trusted Lannister squire) to deliver a message to Cersei, saying that Jaime wants to continue their affair within the discretion of a brothel’s private quarters … Wednesday at eight.
Littlefinger then acquires said brothel before Wednesday, and when the fateful night occurs, well, strange things can happen in the dark, even between father and daughter.
Sometimes you even gross yourself out, but it feels good.
After a moment of shuttering, you return to your outline. What now?
The night’s sinful acrobatics are unacceptable to Tywin, and so he knife murders his own daughter with a broken wineglass to bury the shame and eradicate any chance of someone discovering what’s occurred. As he should have expected, however, it was all a set up. There are witnesses not only to the act itself, but also to the subsequent murder. Varys offers him one out: Name Tyrion heir, and allow him to lead the Lannisters.
Faced with no choice, Tywin accepts the blackmail and gives Tyrion the power he requires to face the coming threat. Before he can act, however, he needs to see what he is facing. He packs up and heads for the wall.
While the reader waits for him to get there, why not change the POV to someone already at the wall?
Action, action, action! Game of Thrones was built more on decapitated horses than subtle diplomatic maneuvering. Time for some swordplay.
You consider how best to proceed while doodling a makeshift flipbook in the bottom outer corners of your journal’s pages. It depicts a simple duel between Bronn and Brienne, and soon gives you the perfect idea.
You can work out the kinks later, but the basic idea is this: Joffrey is officially accused of being the product of Cersei’s and Jaime’s reproductive organs by Bronn. Filled by an ego inverse in proportion to his own reproductive organ, Joffrey accepts trial by combat rather than simply dismissing the case in order to quiet this common accusation once and for all.
Joffrey is confident that anyone he asks to stand for him in trial by combat will easily defeat this wiry, unfamiliar man. Before the king chooses, Bronn further requests that he be allowed a second. Joffrey agrees when he sees that Bronn wants Brienne, who is LOLOLOLOL a woman, and therefore obviously poses no threat.
The trial begins and Joffrey names the Hound, who then refuses. Furious, Joffrey names Ilyn Payne, who also refuses. He goes knight by knight, refused by each one until finally realizing he’ll need to fight both Bron and Brienne by himself. The law is the law.
You smile when you consider the outcome of such a fight. After all, it could go one of two ways. Will you…
give your fans what they want…
or
You decide to throw the proverbial wrench into the works. It turns out, you write, that Joffrey got wind of this plan ahead of time, knew what was coming, and offered Bronn an incredible amount of money to change sides after Joffrey’s court had been given their chance to show their true loyalty or betray him.
As Brienne goes for the kill on the young king, Bronn unexpectedly jumps in front of her and slices open her belly with a deft upward strike. Joffrey laughs cruelly, and spits on her corpse. Next, he orders Bronn to murder everyone who turned him down in the combat.
Once Bronn has slain the others, Joffrey refuses to pay him, saying that his true reward is having been given the chance to prove his loyalty. This, of course, doesn’t sit well with the mercenary, who proceeds to casually lop off the young teen’s head.
Despite the unforeseen twist, Tyrion publicly takes credit for displacing Joffrey, and soon after is given the reins of the kingdom in his stead. It’s not a permanent solution, but it will be enough to sufficiently guard the realm from whatever is coming across the wall.
Before he can act, however, he needs to see what he is facing. He packs up, and heads for the North. While the reader waits for him to get there, why not change the POV to someone already at the wall?
This is going to be the last and the best Game of Thrones book ever, so you confidently decide to up the crazy to eleven. Though, this is Game of Thrones, so relatively speaking it needs to be more like a twelve.
Just as Varys is about to blackmail the pair into submission, Tywin declares his secret love for Cersei who, having some experience in this arena already, decides that her father is the proto-Jaime, and therefore feels the same way. Without the smallest mote of blackmail to guide them, Tywin and Cersei drop their political aspirations and squirrel away in secret to live out their forbidden love unburdened in Braavos.
Tyrion steps forward as heir, and is finally able to wield the official power he requires to face the coming threat. Before he can act, however, he needs to see what he is facing. He packs up, and heads for the wall.
While the reader waits for him to get there, why not change the POV to someone already at the wall?
Without someone to guard him, Joffrey is completely overwhelmed by the combined might of Brienne and Bronn. In a show of dominance, both drop their weapons and decide to engage him in hand-to-hand combat.
Even armed with his crossbow, Joffrey is unable to score even one scratch on either of his assailants as they glide across the court toward him. Bronn and Brienne both take a wrist, and launch Joffrey toward the ceiling. He cries as he flies through the air until his body crashes back down on top of the Iron Throne, which impales every part of him.
Tyrion publicly takes credit for displacing Joffrey, and soon after, is given the reins of the kingdom in his stead.
Before he can act in the realm’s defense, however, he needs to see what he is facing. He packs up, and heads for the North. While the reader waits for him to get there, why not change the POV to someone already at the Wall?
Daenerys partners with a passing witch against the advice of those around her. She makes the typical stand your readers come to expect from her. You’re sure you’ll write her saying something in a commanding voice about being the khaleesi or something to that effect.
After a spooky ritual that adheres to no rules or traditions of any other instance of magic the readers have ever seen elsewhere in the books (because why start now) Daenerys appears in the underworld. The red and black hellscape unfolds before her, a cavernous mouth with stalagmites for teeth. Somewhere in the distance she sees a figure shrouded in black chasing an unfamiliar man yelling, “Not toooddaaaaaay!”
Suddenly, a bizarre and horrifying creature appears in front of her.
Even though you’re going to have to write this girl into the actual plot at some point, you haven’t yet, meaning you still need to consistently find small ways to remind your reader that she lives in the same universe of every other character. With that in mind, you decide that her guide should be the unborn fetus of Rob Stark’s murdered child.
He explains how he was born and killed of treachery, and how Daenerys must now face a personification of the same. In order to find the ancient dragons, she must first confront…
Against her better judgment, Daenerys agrees to the serum proposed by the merchant, and asks his fee. Because most other deals you’ve written for her have involved people wanting her dragons, you decide to throw an unexpected curveball instead.
“Free,” the short man says. “But it will require the blood of 10,000 men.”
Daenerys looks back at her Unsullied slave army and considers her options. She wouldn’t be able to bring them on dragon back across the sea anyway…
She does something horrific to the people she knows.
She does something horrific to the people she doesn’t.
You can’t resist the double dip. More so than any reviled character in the whole of your universe, Viserys got what was coming to him. This is exactly why he should still be alive, hanging out in the underworld, ready to make Daenerys’ life a living hell once more.
You take a moment to bust out your villainous laugh. This stuff really gets your heart pumping.
You bring the tip of your pen back to the page. Other authors would let his mere presence be enough. You, being you, must take it one step further. It isn’t just about him being there, it’s about why he is there. What specific misery should he inflict?
The fans could never get enough of Khal Drogo and his sword-wielding, horse-riding, ale-swilling Dothraki bros, and so you just can’t end this story without a final hello (or goodbye, as the case may be).
That being said, this is Game of Thrones, and no pleasure is free. You know in your old, blackened heart that he has to do something pretty terrible to Daenerys in order for the scene to work. Maybe he shows her something…
A disturbing vision of what could have been.
A disturbing vision of what now is.
Daenerys pulls aside Grey Worm and orders him to order his men to slaughter themselves. Without question, Grey Worm delivers the mandate, and Daenerys and Jorah watch as all 10,000 Unsullied begin fighting those around them. Within half an hour, all have died but one. The man nods to Daenerys, and then promptly murders himself.
Daenerys looks to the merchant, obviously impressed by her willingness to comply with his demand. He gives her the potion. Confused, Daenerys inquires as to why 10,000 needed to die if it was already made, and the merchant explains that the deaths were the cost of purchase, not a requirement of the brew. He and the other merchants were worried of an invasion, and the death of her army guaranteed their safety.
Angered by his deception, Daenerys feeds the potion to her dragons, watches them grow to full size, then commands them to destroy the town as the first order of business.
With the dragons full-size, the readers should be getting excited. This is the perfect time to completely change gears for a moment. They’ll call it obnoxious, you’ll call it pacing. And so it goes.
All in all, things have been going a bit too well. This is a great time for someone we care about to randomly die.
Daenerys pulls aside Grey Worm and orders him to order his men to slaughter everyone in the neighboring town. Without question, Grey Worm delivers the mandate, and two hours later, the Unsullied return from the slaughter covered in the red slimy bits of innocent townfolk.
Daenerys looks to the merchant, obviously impressed by her willingness to comply with his request. He gives her the potion.
Confused, Daenerys inquires as to why 10,000 needed to die if the potion was already made, and the merchant explains that the deaths were the cost of purchase, not a requirement of the brew. He and the other merchants considered the next town over trade competitors, and the death of their population guaranteed a local monopoly.
Angered by his deception, Daenerys feeds the potion to her dragons, watches them grow to full size, then commands them to destroy the merchant’s own town as the first order of business.
With the dragons full-size, the readers should be getting excited. This is the perfect time to completely change gears for a moment. They’ll call it obnoxious, you’ll call it pacing. And so it goes.
All in all, things have been going a bit too well. This is a great time for someone we care about to randomly die.
Before Viserys will take to her to see the dragons of her ancestors, Daenerys must put up with a full complement of his creepy bro-to-sis sexual innuendo, inappropriate feel-copping, and generally sickening discussion of her breasts, role in the bedroom, and worth as a woman. Just like the good ol’ days.
Once Viserys has had his fill of being vulgar scum, he leads her to the spirits of Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar.
Balerion gobbles up Viserys the moment he sees him in a quick moment of unexpected fan service. Afterward, Daenerys refuses to be intimidated by the dragons, survives some fire or something, and acts confident. Feeling bored, you make a note in the margin for later instead of fleshing out the rest: “Add some more typical Daenerys stuff here.”
The three dragons agree to be reborn into the bodies of her dragons, allowing them to instantly reach full size. Daenerys is transported back into the living world and is pleased to see her three babies the size of elephants.
Wasting no (more) time, she mounts the largest of them, Drogon, and flies in a Westerosly direction across the sea.
You smile. You’re almost there. You’re heading into the final chapter, and you know, you just know it’s going to live up to every single expectation every single reader has for it. The only problem now is whose chapter heading to place it under? Who deserves to be there for every moment of what you’re sure will go down as the most epic finale of any television show or book ever?
The short answer is no one. This is the perfect time for an all-new character. His name is George.
META!
Viserys offers his sister a deal. He will take her to see the dragons of her ancestors on one condition, that she offers a sacrifice of someone she loves in order to resurrect him. He makes no qualms about what he’ll do once back in the living world. He will fight her tooth and nail to claim the dragons from her, and attempt to conquer Westeros himself.
Seeing no other option, Daenerys agrees to murder Jorah when she gets back. Viserys smiles, pinches her butt inappropriately for old times’ sake, and takes her to the dragons.
Daenerys stands in front of Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar, refusing to be intimidated by them. She talks about her birthright, survives some fire or something, and generally acts confident. Feeling bored, you make a note in the margin for later instead of fleshing out the rest: “Add some more typical Daenerys stuff here.”
The three dragons agree to be reborn into the bodies of her dragons, allowing them to instantly reach full size. Daenerys is transported back into the living world and is pleased to see her three babies the size of elephants.
Wasting no (more) time, she mounts the largest of them, Drogon, and flies in a Westerosly direction across the sea.
You smile. You’re almost there. You’re heading into the final chapter, and you know, you just know it’s going to live up to every single expectation every single reader has for it. The only problem now is whose chapter heading to place it under? Who deserves to be there for every moment of what you’re sure will go down as the most epic finale of any television show or book ever?
The short answer is no one. This is the perfect time for an all-new character. His name is George.
META!
As Daenerys approaches the Khal, she sees him hanging out with a tall, handsome man. You describe him as looking somewhat like Drogo himself, but with pure white hair instead of black. She asks who he is, and the answer doesn’t surprise her.
“This is Rhaego,” Khal tells her.
“Hi, Mom!” Rhaego says.
Rhaego proceeds to tell his mother about how awesome, talented, and gorgeous he is, but how none of that matters because he is dead because of her and now only gets to appear once per year on his birthday. Which is today.
He asks if she brought something to give him. She didn’t. Not even a card? Nope.
Though this is meant to be more of an outline for your final book than full on prose, you take an hour to detail just exactly how this is makes Daenerys feel, whittling out and defining each precious contour of each shattered shard of her broken heart. Your own heart breaks only once the description is finished and there’s no more of it to write.
“Well, anyway,” Khal Drogo says, “let’s go find those dragons you were looking for, honey!”
To her great surprise, as Daenerys approaches the Khal, she sees another with him: Mirri Maz Duur, the witch who poisoned him. To her even greater surprise, they are making out.
Through the frequent kissing and incessant heavy petting, Daenerys is able to discern that the two found each other in the land of the dead, fell furiously in love, and both consider themselves far better off here than they ever were up above with the living. Daenerys is crushed, but proceeds to ask about the dragons anyway.
Drogo’s new boo absently points west.
Soon, Daenerys finds herself standing before Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar, refusing to be intimidated by their size and might. She talks about her birthright, survives some fire or something, and generally acts confident. Feeling bored, you make a note in the margin for later instead of fleshing out the rest: “Add some more typical Daenerys stuff here.”
The three dragons agree to be reborn into the bodies of her dragons, allowing them to instantly reach full size. Daenerys is transported back into the living world and is pleased to see her three babies the size of elephants.
Wasting no (more) time, she mounts the largest of them, Drogon, and flies in a Westerosly direction across the sea.
You smile. You’re almost
Published: Apr 1, 2014 07:00 pm