Like many fans, I was reading George RR Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire for years before the television show came out. I enjoyed the books, which were beautifully told epic fantasy of the kind I’ve always been looking for since I first read The Lord of the Rings as a teenager. My brother in law gave me the first book at Christmas in 2004, and I eagerly devoured it and everything that came after. Martin, I felt, had modernized the genre, and was giving us all a terrific ride with his intrigue filled, sometimes twisted and always unpredictable novels.

When the show came out, I embraced it, as so many millions did. The casting was amazing, the story wonderfully told, faithful to the books, the production values more than any fantasy fan could hope for. I felt as if we’d been given a new episode of Tolkien every Sunday evening, for years. Even when I felt disappointed by certain elements, overall the show was something my wife and I looked forward to every week.

Though I was dismayed when the show passed the events of Martin’s most recent entry in the series, I still enjoyed it all immensely, and was sorry to see it end. What an epic tale! What a journey they took us on! The final episodes were in many ways reminiscent to me of the end of Return of the King. Arya and the Night King was for me Frodo at Mt. Doom. Jon Snow saying farewell to his family felt like the parting at the Grey Havens. Game of Thrones is our era’s Lord of the Rings; if you enjoy epic fantasy, it doesn’t get much better than this.

So, thanks to George for writing this. Thanks to all the showrunners and writers and actors for putting in on TV year after year. It was an inspired, and inspiring run. I cannot wait to see Martin’s final two books in the series, since it is his story, and he is the one who made all this possible.

It makes me want to write things myself, and if that isn’t the greatest compliment of all, I don’t know what is.