I was a latecomer to George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" (aka A Game of Thrones series). It took me two tries to get into it, with the second being the ebook version borrowed through Oregon's Library2Go, which I then devoured while running on the treadmill. (Obviously, this was over multiple runs.)
This was right around the time that A Dance With Dragons was about to come out or had just come out. Other fans had endured a five year wait between the third novel (A Storm of Swords) and the fourth (A Feast for Crows), and then a six year wait before Dragons was finally published. I, being Johnny Come Lately, was able to plow through all five books without much wait at all -- the only wait being getting off the wait list for the library's ebook.
But alas, I am now in the position that those earlier adopters are in, which is the seemingly endless wait for Martin to finish the sixth novel, which is supposed to be titled The Winds of Winter. I gather that part of the reason for the long waits before publication of the last two books was that Martin had found the plot getting away from him and ending up twisted into some tight conundrums that he had to figure out how to unravel. That's not surprising, considering how many characters there are and how many plot lines.
Well . . . if I might offer some help for Martin, how about starting #6 like this:
Drogon dreamed a vivid dream of a succulent boar, roasted by a single powerful breath, and then savored as a prized meal. Though satisfying in taste, Drogon did wonder why the boar was so un-boar-like in shape, slender rather than plump; but he did not dwell on such puzzles. The important part of the dream was the eating.
And then Drogon awoke with a start. His sensitive nose detected a whiff of . . . roasted meat. The massive dragon opened his eyes. There, just in front of his head was a blackened, still smoking form, with a distinct chunk of flesh missing.
Drogon dimly recalled that his precious protector, Daenerys, had been snuggling with him. He loved her and protected her. And now, it appeared that he had accidentally breathed fire on her in his sleep. A tear slipped out of his right eye. There was but one thing left to do.
He devoured her. He was, after all, still growing.
Yea! This would help clear up a lot of problems for Martin. No more needing to write boring passages about Daeny and her Unsullied, wandering around the desert, essentially killing time until being integrated into the rest of the plot.
For bonus points, he could make sure Jon Snow is dead, and the Others take over the kingdom and win. That'd be a shock ending, but hey, weren't you shocked by the, uh, events in the first and third novels in particular? Martin's already made it clear that no one (well, almost no one) is safe.