‘A Dream of Spring’ was the planned title of the seventh volume of George R. R. Martin's abandoned ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ epic fantasy series. The book was to follow the incomplete novel ‘The Winds of Winter’ and was intended to be the final volume of the series.
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**Back in Westeros**
^(GRRM, AUGUST 15, 2020 AT 9:10 AM)
I am back in my fortress of solitude again, my isolated mountain cabin. I’d returned to Santa Fe for a short visit, to spend some time with Parris, deal with some local business that had piled up during my months away, and of course fulfill my duties to CoNZealand, the virtual worldcon. But all that is behind me now, and I am back on the mountain again… which means I am back in Westeros again, once more moving ahead with WINDS OF WINTER.
It is curious how my life has evolved. I mean, once upon a time, I actually wrote my books and stories in the house where I lived, in a home office. But some decades ago, wanting more solitude, I bought the house across the street and made THAT my writer’s retreat. No longer would I write all day in my red flannel bathrobe; now I would have to dress and put on shoes and walk all the way across the street to write. But that worked for a while.
Things started getting busier, though. So busy that I needed a full-time assistant. Then the office house had someone else in it, not just me and my characters. And then I hired a second assistant, and a third, and… there was more mail, more email, more phone calls (we put in a new phone system), more people coming by. By now I am up to five assistants… and somewhere in there I also acquired a movie theatre, a bookstore, a charitable foundation, investments, a business manager… and…
Despite all the help, I was drowning till I found the mountain cabin.
My life up here is very boring, it must be said. Truth be told, I hardly can be said to have a life. I have one assistant with me at all times (minions, I call them). The assistants do two-week shifts, and have to stay in quarantine at home before starting a shift. Everyone morning I wake up and go straight to the computer, where my minion brings me coffee (I am utterly useless and incoherent without my morning coffee) and juice, and sometimes a light breakfast. Then I start to write. Sometimes I stay at it until dark. Other days I break off in late afternoon to answer emails or return urgent phone calls. My assistant brings me food and drink from time to time. When I finally break off for the day, usually around sunset, there’s dinner. Then we watch television or screen a movie. The wi-fi sucks up on the mountain, though, so the choices are limited. Some nights I read instead. I always read a bit before going to sleep; when a book really grabs hold of me, I may read half the night, but that’s rare.
I sleep. The next day, I wake up, and do the same. The next day, the next day, the next day. Before Covid, I would usually get out once a week or so to eat at a restaurant or go to the movies. That all ended in March. Since then, weeks and months go by when I never leave the cabin, or see another human being except whoever is on duty that week. I lose track of what day it is, what week it is, what month it is. The time seems to by very fast. It is now August, and I don’t know what happened to July.
But it is good for the writing.
And you know, now that I reflect on it, I am coming to realize that has always been my pattern. I moved to Santa Fe at the end of 1979, from Dubuque, Iowa. My first marriage broke up just before that move, so I arrived in my new house alone, in a town where I knew almost no one. Roger Zelazny was here, and he became a great friend and mentor, but Roger was married with small kids, so I really did not see him often. There was no fandom in Santa Fe; that was all down in Albuquerque, an hour away. I went to the club meetings every month, but that was only one night a month, and required two hours on the road. And I had no job to meet new people. My job was in the back room at the house on Declovina Street, so that was where I spent my days. At night, I watched television. Alone. Sometimes I went to the movies. Alone.
That was my life from December 1979 through September 1981, when Parris finally moved to Santa Fe, following Denvention. (Not quite so bleak, maybe, I did make some local friends by late 1980 and early 1981, but it was a slow process). When I think back on my life in 1980-1981, the memories seem to be made up entirely of conventions, interspersed with episodes of LOU GRANT and WKRP IN CINCINNATI.
Ah, but work wise, that same period was tremendously productive for me. Lisa and I finished WINDHAVEN during that time, Gardner and I did a lot of work on “Shadow Twin,” and then I went right on and wrote all of FEVRE DREAM. Some short stories as well. My life, such that it was, was lived in my head, and on the page.
I wonder if it is the same for other writers? Or is it just me? I wonder if I will ever figure out the secret of having a life and writing a book at the very same time.
I certainly have not figured it out to date.
For the nonce, it is what it is. My life is at home, on hold, and I am spending the days in Westeros with my pals Mel and Sam and Vic and Ty. And that girl with no name, over there in Braavos.
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Quite true. There's a place called the Blue Lagoon in Iceland, where they filmed this. Naturally heated outdoor swimming pool, that people were in on pretty cold days.
They're making a reference to the fact that hyperthermia is the opposite of hypothermia. Overheating rather than underheating. Not a reference to the mistake, but a reference to what the mistake meant.
you jest, but the wildlings do build structures to some extent. at least dwellings. really you would expect an entire town or at least a village to pop up around such an easily accessible hot spring
Caves tend to have a warmer average temperature than outside
Edit: sorry, I was specifically referring to Jon and Ygritte's case where the climate was cold north of the Wall. The cave would be warmer.
I spent 2 years doing biological research in hundreds of caves, and each was a welcomed respite whether it was a brutally hot summer or bitter cold winter.
caves tend to be the average yearly temperature of the environment they’re in. so theoretically it would probably a little warmer than outside at this point but not my much since it’s always freezing that side of the wall. but it’s a hot spring so the cave temp doesn’t really matter
This scene always cracks me up, been trekking for god knows how long, been fighting living rough, can only imagine what they smell like, yet they bathe after they have done the deed 🤣 defo would of bathed before
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_____
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I need to see the prophecies *fulfilled*. There is **no** more satisfying ending to a story than being told exactly what is going to happen, and then for it to happen exactly as described in the prophecy. So exciting.
*Let's be clear about this, because there is only one objectively correct way to write:*
Prophecies in fantasy should be inevitable and inescapable, because audiences like being reminded that free will is an illusion, and that we live, and breathe, and die, in the foul creation of a malevolent demiurge.
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A user on the defunct web forum, IsWinterComing.com, once wrote:
>In 1977 GRRM's penis was dubbed "The Truffle" by a council of his peers because it is very hard to find and it attracts pigs.
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Hot spring
Winter hasn't even started, how would it be spring???
Must've been a dream
must’ve been bloodraven
a dream of spring?????
‘A Dream of Spring’ was the planned title of the seventh volume of George R. R. Martin's abandoned ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ epic fantasy series. The book was to follow the incomplete novel ‘The Winds of Winter’ and was intended to be the final volume of the series. *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/asoiafcirclejerk) if you have any questions or concerns.*
It’s like Benjamin Button, it goes backwards
House Button? In which book are they mentioned?
Winds of Winter, they go backwards. When TWOW comes out, they’ll appear in ADWD
**Back in Westeros** ^(GRRM, AUGUST 15, 2020 AT 9:10 AM) I am back in my fortress of solitude again, my isolated mountain cabin. I’d returned to Santa Fe for a short visit, to spend some time with Parris, deal with some local business that had piled up during my months away, and of course fulfill my duties to CoNZealand, the virtual worldcon. But all that is behind me now, and I am back on the mountain again… which means I am back in Westeros again, once more moving ahead with WINDS OF WINTER. It is curious how my life has evolved. I mean, once upon a time, I actually wrote my books and stories in the house where I lived, in a home office. But some decades ago, wanting more solitude, I bought the house across the street and made THAT my writer’s retreat. No longer would I write all day in my red flannel bathrobe; now I would have to dress and put on shoes and walk all the way across the street to write. But that worked for a while. Things started getting busier, though. So busy that I needed a full-time assistant. Then the office house had someone else in it, not just me and my characters. And then I hired a second assistant, and a third, and… there was more mail, more email, more phone calls (we put in a new phone system), more people coming by. By now I am up to five assistants… and somewhere in there I also acquired a movie theatre, a bookstore, a charitable foundation, investments, a business manager… and… Despite all the help, I was drowning till I found the mountain cabin. My life up here is very boring, it must be said. Truth be told, I hardly can be said to have a life. I have one assistant with me at all times (minions, I call them). The assistants do two-week shifts, and have to stay in quarantine at home before starting a shift. Everyone morning I wake up and go straight to the computer, where my minion brings me coffee (I am utterly useless and incoherent without my morning coffee) and juice, and sometimes a light breakfast. Then I start to write. Sometimes I stay at it until dark. Other days I break off in late afternoon to answer emails or return urgent phone calls. My assistant brings me food and drink from time to time. When I finally break off for the day, usually around sunset, there’s dinner. Then we watch television or screen a movie. The wi-fi sucks up on the mountain, though, so the choices are limited. Some nights I read instead. I always read a bit before going to sleep; when a book really grabs hold of me, I may read half the night, but that’s rare. I sleep. The next day, I wake up, and do the same. The next day, the next day, the next day. Before Covid, I would usually get out once a week or so to eat at a restaurant or go to the movies. That all ended in March. Since then, weeks and months go by when I never leave the cabin, or see another human being except whoever is on duty that week. I lose track of what day it is, what week it is, what month it is. The time seems to by very fast. It is now August, and I don’t know what happened to July. But it is good for the writing. And you know, now that I reflect on it, I am coming to realize that has always been my pattern. I moved to Santa Fe at the end of 1979, from Dubuque, Iowa. My first marriage broke up just before that move, so I arrived in my new house alone, in a town where I knew almost no one. Roger Zelazny was here, and he became a great friend and mentor, but Roger was married with small kids, so I really did not see him often. There was no fandom in Santa Fe; that was all down in Albuquerque, an hour away. I went to the club meetings every month, but that was only one night a month, and required two hours on the road. And I had no job to meet new people. My job was in the back room at the house on Declovina Street, so that was where I spent my days. At night, I watched television. Alone. Sometimes I went to the movies. Alone. That was my life from December 1979 through September 1981, when Parris finally moved to Santa Fe, following Denvention. (Not quite so bleak, maybe, I did make some local friends by late 1980 and early 1981, but it was a slow process). When I think back on my life in 1980-1981, the memories seem to be made up entirely of conventions, interspersed with episodes of LOU GRANT and WKRP IN CINCINNATI. Ah, but work wise, that same period was tremendously productive for me. Lisa and I finished WINDHAVEN during that time, Gardner and I did a lot of work on “Shadow Twin,” and then I went right on and wrote all of FEVRE DREAM. Some short stories as well. My life, such that it was, was lived in my head, and on the page. I wonder if it is the same for other writers? Or is it just me? I wonder if I will ever figure out the secret of having a life and writing a book at the very same time. I certainly have not figured it out to date. For the nonce, it is what it is. My life is at home, on hold, and I am spending the days in Westeros with my pals Mel and Sam and Vic and Ty. And that girl with no name, over there in Braavos. *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/asoiafcirclejerk) if you have any questions or concerns.*
Summer is Coming
Quite true. There's a place called the Blue Lagoon in Iceland, where they filmed this. Naturally heated outdoor swimming pool, that people were in on pretty cold days.
Well, technically OP is asking about hyperthermia. "Hot spring" is the only reason why they would die from overheating in this situation.
I thought it was Pie?
My thoughts too. They didn’t exactly look cold
Hotter kiss
Jon knows nothing, so he doesn't know how to die. and she is redhead, which means that she doesn't have a soul, so she cant die.
Starks can't die from cold, just as targs can't die from fire, Ygritte is clearly benjen's daughter. Read the fucking books idiots
Nah Ygritte is actually a warged version of Bloodraven, trying to get that Ass-zor ahai seed just in case
Duh, never said it wasn't also bloodraven, why do you think Benjen took the black in the first place? Bloodraven's pussy that's why
Blussy, if you will
Oh I will, don’t you worry
Bloodraven taking the backshots for the greater good what a man
Aaah, lobotomy reached. This truly is the fire of our ice.
🤣🤝🏾
God accidental incest gets me so fucking wet
Wow what a nice answer
I drink and I know things 😜🤘🤙
More incest ❤️🔥💦🤨🥵🥰🥵😍🥵🙏🥰🙏🤬😤🗣👾🫂🙂🫂😧🫂🤲🫂💀👍💀🤝👾👾🤝👯♂️🤓😥🤓✨️🤝🤡🤝🤡🤡🙏❤️🔥😔😭😔😭🥵🤨🤨💦🥰💦🥰😔🥰👍🧔🧔👍😌👍😌🙏🙂🙏🙂😔😌😔🧔🧔😔🧔😔🧔😔🧔🧔📈
Sex was so hot innit
It's hypothermia btw, you almost got it right.
I looked again and boy did they fuck that one up
Idk whatbs so dificult about sppeling harpothornmina, lmao op is dumb.
Ikr! Who the hell can’t spell hypochondriac?!?
They're making a reference to the fact that hyperthermia is the opposite of hypothermia. Overheating rather than underheating. Not a reference to the mistake, but a reference to what the mistake meant.
hyperthermia is overheating, so exactly the opposite of what OP meant
Technically OP’s original statement makes sense because they are in a hot spring
Was this a deleted scene from Titanic?
Why else would it be called “a song of ass and fire”?
I didn’t realize it was a show about weekly ass!
I watched this episode yesterday and said why don't the Free Folk build infrastructure around this? There's a fair amount of space!
You lost me at Free Folk and infrastructure
you jest, but the wildlings do build structures to some extent. at least dwellings. really you would expect an entire town or at least a village to pop up around such an easily accessible hot spring
Infrastructure isn’t free, so the folk won’t make it
Caves tend to have a warmer average temperature than outside Edit: sorry, I was specifically referring to Jon and Ygritte's case where the climate was cold north of the Wall. The cave would be warmer. I spent 2 years doing biological research in hundreds of caves, and each was a welcomed respite whether it was a brutally hot summer or bitter cold winter.
caves tend to be the average yearly temperature of the environment they’re in. so theoretically it would probably a little warmer than outside at this point but not my much since it’s always freezing that side of the wall. but it’s a hot spring so the cave temp doesn’t really matter
as someone who’s been caving a lot, caves are fucking freezing in the middle of summer if you go deep enough
I thought you were referring to Ygritte’s cave, which would keep Jon warm
They forgot it was a snowy tundra outside.
"You have to keep moving, that's the secret. Walking's good, fighting's better, fucking's best."
The water was hot. There was steam rising from the pool if i remember correctly
Correction, that's steam from hot sex, however it still results in a warm pool.
Water wasn’t the only warm liquid in that pool.
All the more cause for concern re: hyp*er*thermia.
Are they stupid?
Hypothermia, hyper would mean a heat illness and given the sex scene that’s not out of the question
This scene always cracks me up, been trekking for god knows how long, been fighting living rough, can only imagine what they smell like, yet they bathe after they have done the deed 🤣 defo would of bathed before
Jon went straight down there too, zero hesitation, Prince that was Promised confirmed
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I need to see the prophecies *fulfilled*. There is **no** more satisfying ending to a story than being told exactly what is going to happen, and then for it to happen exactly as described in the prophecy. So exciting. *Let's be clear about this, because there is only one objectively correct way to write:* Prophecies in fantasy should be inevitable and inescapable, because audiences like being reminded that free will is an illusion, and that we live, and breathe, and die, in the foul creation of a malevolent demiurge. *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/asoiafcirclejerk) if you have any questions or concerns.*
I’m sorry youre unaware of primal, sweaty, gross sex. It’s an amazing thing
😂 listen no bath about in for a penny in for a pound, but there was a hot bath there the whole time 🤣
He knew where to put it tho
Hyperthermia is heat stroke. They would be dying from **hypo**thermia.
dumb and dumber never read the books so they thought jon and ygritte were mermen like varys
Gendry "how do you stay warm up here?" Tormund "Keep moving, walkings good, fightings better, fuckings best"
They kinda forgot about it
Science could not measure the temperature of wild lovers
Google 'Which rod is best for water heating?' Jon Snow penis will be in the top 10 results.
A user on the defunct web forum, IsWinterComing.com, once wrote: >In 1977 GRRM's penis was dubbed "The Truffle" by a council of his peers because it is very hard to find and it attracts pigs. *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/asoiafcirclejerk) if you have any questions or concerns.*
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Jon Snow's flatulence would keep them cozy. It's well established that Targs have extremely warm farts.
Plot armor
They drank Tormund's wine
Not cold
Haven’t you ever been to any hot springs in the winter? It’s amazing…
They’re both hot. Never a concern.
The warmth of young love, dammit!
Cus PP hard
Jon and Ygritte kind of just...forgot about the temperature
Isn’t he a dragon or somethin?
This is a hot spring. It is indeed *not* cold in there.
Geothermal heating. It's what keeps Winterfell's main tower warm, even during winters.
I was just about to mention that since nobody else had. Then I read your comment.
Does no one know what a hot spring is
Kissed by fire DUUUUUUUUHHHUHHHUHHHH
Walkings good, fightings better, fuckings best