TV

Game of Thrones Made Brandon Sanderson Cringe — But He Got One Big Thing Wrong

Game of Thrones Made Brandon Sanderson Cringe — But He Got One Big Thing Wrong
Image credit: Legion-Media

Brandon Sanderson is on the money about Game of Thrones — except for one crucial detail he gets wrong.

Let’s just get this out there: every time George R.R. Martin’s The Winds of Winter comes up (which is often, because the book has gone full cryptid at this point), some folks start “casting” other authors to finish his magnum opus if he, uh, can’t. Inevitably, Brandon Sanderson’s name surfaces, and the whole fantasy internet goes through the same motions. Why? Because Sanderson wrapped up The Wheel of Time when Robert Jordan died. Surely he could just do that with A Song of Ice and Fire, right? Well, Sanderson himself has a lot to say about why that would be a genuine disaster—and he’s been upfront about it.

Sanderson vs Martin: Different Worlds, Different Rules

First things first: yes, Sanderson has actually addressed this scenario, and he’s pretty blunt about not wanting, nor being the right fit, to be the closer for Martin’s dark soap opera of dragons, politics, and decapitations. The quote that’s been making the rounds basically lays it all out:

'I wouldn't say yes to finishing ASOIAF, if asked. (And I don't think they'd ask me.) I'd respectfully decline. I wouldn't be right for the job for many reasons. I wouldn't want to put in the content that the series has, and part of that is due to my religious faith, part of it is just who I am. I don't shy away from difficult material, but I prefer not to get explicit. Honestly, when I read it in George's work, I often just cringe. I don't think it fits in prose; I think it looks tacky. But that's almost 100% due to my religious leanings. I realize that others don't read such scenes in the same way as I do.

However, I'd suggest that this is actually a minor reason why I'd be a bad writer on this series, despite having enormous respect for GRRM and his talent as a storyteller.

The primary reason has to do with fundamental optimism vs pessimism. I write darkness into my books, but it is darkness as contrast to light, and there is always a spark of hope. George's work seems fundamentally pessimistic--which I don't say as a slam. ...Calling me in to work on this piece would be like calling in Spielberg to finish a Tarantino film...

My work is also fundamentally different from George's in our use of magic. ...I often use a heavily magical component in my stories--particularly the endings...George, however, prefers his magic to be arcane, unknown, and dark--not a tool, but a force you can sometimes (with great danger) apply.'

What Sanderson Is REALLY Saying (And Why He’s Right)

Okay, let’s unpack this in plain English. Sanderson’s basically arguing that, even though he’s tackled other author’s unfinished business before (The Wheel of Time), the Martinverse just isn’t in his wheelhouse. Partly because he’d have to write a bunch of explicit content (which he finds, in his words, 'tacky'), but mainly because of a big fundamental difference in worldview: Sanderson’s a builder of hope, Martin’s a connoisseur of doom. Sort of like hiring Spielberg to reshoot the end of Pulp Fiction—possible, but seriously weird.

There’s also the magic angle: Sanderson’s stories tend to have magic systems that are almost scientific, used as tools and plot machinery (if you’ve read Mistborn or Stormlight Archive, you know). Martin, on the other hand, keeps his magic mysterious and more dangerous, almost like something wild that creeps in along the edges (think Melisandre’s fire and blood, not, say, Allomancy charts).

Is A Song of Ice and Fire Really That Hopeless?

Sanderson also calls out the supposed 'pessimism' of Martin’s world. And, honestly, this is where I’m going to roll my eyes a bit. Yeah, there are beheadings, betrayals, and more trauma than a dozen HBO After Dark series—but the idea that Martin writes stories without hope is more a side effect of the Game of Thrones TV show’s post-season-four collapse than the actual novels.

  • Martin does lean into mess and moral grayness, flipping the old 'good vs evil' model on its head. Bad things happen to good people, but hope isn’t dead. In fact, after pretty much every low point (the execution of Ned, the Red Wedding), there’s some kind of offset: Robb’s victories, the birth of dragons, the fall of the truly awful people.
  • Tolkien (everyone’s favorite fantasy comparison point) also wrote about fading glory, but with a kind of melancholy hope. Martin, if anything, is sneaky about hopefulness: his world is rough, but it doesn’t just spiral into endless darkness for the sake of it.
  • Even Sanderson admits Martin has a knack for making you care about supposedly irredeemable characters, which is just another form of hope, really.

What’s the Takeaway?

Sanderson knows exactly who he is as a writer, and he’s honest about what he would and wouldn’t do for a series as prickly and complex as A Song of Ice and Fire. He admires Martin, gets why those differences matter, and—here’s the crucial bit—isn’t interested in faking it just for the sake of fandom closure. He’s basically the anti-Game of Thrones showrunners in that respect.

Short version: It’s not going to happen, and honestly, it shouldn’t. Let’s just all keep refreshing Martin’s blog until the end of time like civilized people. Or, you know, start a Mistborn reread; Sanderson’s got plenty of hope-filled doom for everybody.