Well, with the second book done and I'm over 50% into the third book, little annoyances are building with the enormous repetition. I have been listening to the audiobooks mostly and when I have a spare moment I sit down and read it on my kindle, but with the amount of uses and reuses, and phrases and rephrasing and yada blah, etc. I have even found myself wanting dear old Hodor to bite the dust, just so I wouldn't have to hear his voice anymore. I just want to listen to the book and let the story unfold, but the narrator keeps yelling Hodor, Hodor, Hodor. Hoooooodor in different octaves and combinations of inflection. Yeah, that is kinda annoying after a while. 
 As I had stated before I watched the first two seasons as a little assist before tackling the books, but with this installation there are many more differences in the book than the show. For that reason I am not watching the current season as I read A Storm of Swords. 
 Once again though G.R.R.M. does a good job crafting plots and making me like one character only to turn my back on that person before the book is done, and I guess what he eventually wants to try with me is to have me hate one individual and then develop a fondness for them later, but that won't work with me. I hold grudges, and I won't be swayed, but I will definitely admit it down the line if I eventually forgive a character. 
 Just as the first book had several irritants in the details this one does the same. Sometimes a reader just wants the meat of the story and sometimes sure you can go into detail on a particular city, thing, or armor, but mostly as a reader we want the story to push forward with less junk in the way. So here is an example I came up with. This would be something like an important meeting that is supposed to take place and the people are entering the room to talk. Keep in mind it is the conversation that would be the important part: 
 "He walked in wearing a red doublet, encrusted with jewels and diamond dust, his hair fiery blond. His chainmail soaked with blood. It was made of iron that had been ravaged from the distant land of Bernith. Bernith was known for its mining villages and the minerals never scarce. High in demand were the rubies especially and the hilt of his sword was swathed in them. His sword was made of Furanium steel, and had taken more than nine lives just this morning. On his plate armor was the traditional naked mermaid of Eldertown. Her boobs were bare and grotesquely large, too large. The mermaid was a symbol of house Gobbledy-gook, and it was a sign of good fortune to see the bare chested mermaiden upon the seas. Their house words had always been, "More than a handful". The sea that parted the two lands was named The Sea of Three Peaks. The towering jagged rocks that shot up from beneath the ocean floor as if standing guard by the Island of Murrigan. His bracers were made of solid gold, although a silly thing to do, as fighting with such an armor would slow his strokes and it was a wonder he even survived a single battle, but he loved the color and gleam of it, especially on sunny days. But it was the cold days he looked forward too. Cold, wet, stormy days where forces clashed and his gold bracers were covered in his favorite color by the end of the day. Red, the blood of his enemies. For Gunther his enemies had always been the Raiders of Turnok. They had pillaged his townsfolk for years, but tomorrow he'd eat cheese on his eggs. Eggs had been his daily staple from time to time, and every now and again he knew not how long though, he enjoyed a cup of red wine with his roasted duck. Drizzled in mango sauce and oil that would run down his beard. Throw in a couple of scallions and red pepper garnished clams, and light feathering of nutmeg and he would have his fill. Rest would come easy for him those nights, his dreams would conquer his mind with a belly full of such fine food. Normally he would dream of the sea but on those nights he would dream of women, and sometimes play-doh. It brought him back to his childhood when he had those dreams and when he would wake his face bore a smile from ear to ear." 
 So, as you can see these details I just gave are just over the top, and by the time you get through it all and someone says one line or greeting to the other individual, another person enters the room and... 
 "Manx walked with a bowlegged step as his greaves glinted with each movement. His gauntlets swinging wildly as he moved across the stone floor. His boiled leather boots making not a sound as he moved, but it was his breathing that was his give away. At nearly nine and eighty, he was old, like really old. For reasons unknow chicken grease was still running down over his lips and chin from a roasted goat he ate two days past. His pure white hair the color of white, the blackness of his chest plate was the color of black. His eyes were a burning red, so red in fact they seemed almost red." 
 And then of course it would go into his lineage and who was his father and who was his mother and who raped who and slaughtered what village and who won or lost what tournament eons ago that is not important. 
 Anyway to sum up, the stories are indeed amazing and well crafted, I just think G.R.R.M. needs to strike through many of the details in his rough draft. We get it, it looks like Medieval Times on steroids, most places are desolate and ravaged by war. Some areas have nice castles and are very beautiful. But I don't need to read five hundred extra pages to get the point. 
 I will however give this book 4 stars just for the quality of the dialogue, but the pacing and the extreme misunderstanding of detail placement causes this one to lose a star.