I first started reading the Game of Thrones novels in ninth grade. I read the opening twenty pages of A Game of Thrones, but didn’t go any further; I can’t recall why, perhaps some sort of mandatory reading got in the way. I do remember telling myself I’d go back to it, especially after the prologue, the prologue that gave us creatures of ice called the Others, creatures that I found to be the stuff of nightmares. I returned to the books six months later, when I was in tenth grade and my interest in the Others only grew, especially since Martin kept them off screen, but hyped them up through tales told by other characters like Old Nan.