Don't worry, I haven't really done any scientific studies. I haven't done any research at all. So everything that follows is the result of lazy conjecture and nothing more.

Just think of all those fond memories you have of that favourite aunty of yours. The sweets she gave you and the cuddles the time your cats disappeared. Her disappointment for you when your first love ran away from home and never asked you to come along, never even sent a note. Oh, she was the one you always went to with your problems; the rosy cheeked confidante who kept all your plans and dreams to herself and never told another soul... Those times are precious to you -- never to be forgotten, your most treasured possessions that you can take out and hug close any time you feel lonely.

And then one day, the police arrive at her house. They excavate the horrific remains from her basement. At first, it's just the brutalised bones of tortured kittens. Then, they call in the Dublin CSI squad as they find the dessicated corpse of a missing person. Your heart freezes in your chest as the murder victim's name is released. Now you know why you never got any letters from Capital City. I guess your aunty just didn't want to share you.

And how do you feel about those memories after that? Can you think of the kittens without remembering their smashed bones? Does your skin crawl when you visualise that woman hugging you while your love lay bound and gagged in the dripping cellar, bare metres below? It's become poison in the end and all the wonderful years that preceded it can only make it worse.

Stories are linear when we're reading them, but once they're complete, they become accessible to us in their entirety. Often, not knowing the ending is what provides a large portion of our reading enjoyment. Or is 'enjoyment' even the right word?

You have your nose planted between the pages. The Nork asks if you're enjoying your book, and you might say 'yes'. But maybe it's not enjoyment you feel, but excitement. Is there a difference? I'd say so. I'd say that excitement is 'deferred enjoyment'. It's like placing a bet on a race. The larger the stake, the greater the payoff if you win or disappointment if you lose.

In memory, excitement is replaced by warm echoes of the payoff. The secrets of the plot are gone and we are left only with our admiration for a job well done. The book has changed from a series of events to a single atomic entity where the payoff or lack of one casts its shadow over all the rest. Shroedinger's book has finally been opened and we know already if the Stark has lived or died.

Many of us have recently read Joe Abercrombie's "First Law" trilogy. I can't speak for anybody else, but while I enjoyed each of the books, at the back of my mind there was always a doubt: "you're only pretending to be a cynical SOB. At the end, you're going to betray me like all the others with an orgy of tearful, happy weddings while bad guys grind their teeth from the bottom table." Luckily, I was not disappointed. That's one aunty whose basement will never need excavation.

But of course, the subject of endings is far, far more complex than I've painted it. For example, even if George R. R. Martin were to fail in bringing his epic series to an amazing conclusion, there are certain things he has done, certain moments, that nothing can poison in my memory. No reader who has ever lived through the Red Wedding, or been introduced to Tyrion can feel short changed. Maybe that's because such moments represent sufficient payoffs in their own right that can weather any later storms. Or maybe my memory of them may change in the light of "A Dance with Dragons".

So, I'll have to come back to this one after a bit more musing.

NEWS

Yet another great review for librarians, but Irish ones this time, rather than their American cousins. The books magazine, Inis, said: "Ó Guilín is a skilled writer and storyteller and the narrative is enthralling. [...] The Inferior is thought-provoking, well-written and enjoyable. It will appeal to fans of science fiction, horror and fantasy, although readers of a sensitive disposition should beware."