Longreads

So the way my father used to tell it, my parents second date went something like this: My father was positively smitten after his blind date with my mother, and wanting to spend as much time with…

(Fiction) When Molly and I had been married for thirteen years—splendid Molly, difficult Molly—she took over Conte’s Printing, a New Haven business my grandfather had started in the thirties. My father ran it when I was a child, and I spent much of my time in the shop. A teenage boy, Gilbert, ran errands for my father after school and also kept an eye on me. When I was in college I fooled around on the letterpress printer my grandfather had used, and Gilbert, who still worked there, teased me for caring about something old-fashioned.

George R. R. Martin has now sold more than fifteen million books worldwide, and his readership will likely multiply exponentially after the launch, this month, of "Game of Thrones," a lavish HBO series based on "A Song of Ice and Fire." He is committed to nurturing his audience, no matter how vast it gets. "It behooves a writer to be good to his fans," he says. Still, a close relationship with one’s audience has its drawbacks. As Martin puts it, "The more readers you have, the harder it is to keep up, and then you can’t get any writing done."