The scene: Westeros: The set-up: winter is here, Daenerys is (finally) there, and  Game of Thrones is over for another year. It has turned dense, pseudo-medieval fantasy fiction into one of the most watched TV shows of the last decade. But what is the fantasy fan to do in the long wait between seasons, or the even longer wait between books, of pop culture’s current colossus, when quality fantasy TV is so hard to come by?

Elsewhere in storytelling media, adventures that take place in fictional worlds — occasionally with magical or semi-historical elements — are a boomtown of sprawling sagas which regularly top bestseller lists or develop loyal fanbases. Some become beloved classics, exuding a kind of timelessness or otherworldliness rarely seen in other areas of fiction. Fantasy films, too, are a box office draw; there’s something about a two-hour stretch of escapism that continues to pull in audiences. Then there’s Lord of the Rings, which has been both. Tolkien’s works have been a formative influence on high fantasy, from its languages and creatures to its widely seen film adaptations, which remain cultural touchstones (I personally find second breakfast one of the most important meals of the day). Yet fantasy is a notoriously difficult genre to get right on the small screen, with more dodgy dialogue and see-through sets than you can shake a sword at. With such successes in other media to draw on, why is so rare for epic fantasy TV to reach epic heights?

Of course, most television productions don’t have quite the same backing as blockbusters, and books — from which the vast majority of fantasy adaptations are drawn — need only a well-chosen handful of words to create spectacular scenes. Bloody, busy and with a budget big enough to run a small country, Game of Thrones has known what to do with its rare and ever-increasing purse. Forget lame green screen or expensive guest stars (in this house we do not talk about Ed Sheeran, Lannister minstrel); from the muddy courtyards and faux-fur of Winterfell to detailed on-location shoots in Croatia and Iceland, its sets and costumes seem to build the series from the ground up. After all, how is the audience expected to believe the story if they can’t believe the people and places within it? A series without world-building clout risks reliance on plot, and that isn’t always the best strategy when your quest revolves around a cast’s ability to glare moodily at the camera (2011’s one-season Camelot) or mystical elfstones and clothing that looks like it’s been put through a paper shredder (The Shannara Chronicles).

Far more crucial than how deep the pockets go, however, is the commitment asked of a fantasy audience. Big-budget, cinematic fantasy can go wrong, as seen earlier this year with Guy Ritchie’s 300 million dollar Dark-Ages-meets-Cockney car crash, King Arthur: Legend of the Sword. Fantasy needs heart if it’s to stick (Charlie Hunnam’s Arthur wouldn’t have known one if it had hit him in the face) and even the most traditional swords-and-sorcery adventure requires an immense suspension of disbelief. Thrones has drawn criticism for its altering of storylines, inexcusable misogyny and in season seven, unfathomable pacing. Do you know how far a horse can travel in one day? I do and it’d get you about thirty miles outside King’s Landing by the end of an episode. With modern audiences used to brooding crime dramas or documentaries, for most executives the many perils of bringing rich, otherworldly stories to the small screen seems like too much of a risk. Some have strayed as far as low or urban fantasy (real-world series with fantasy elements thrown in), as with Netflix’s demons-and-dodgy-CGI offering Shadowhunters or Supernatural, the show that, infused as it is with all manner of trudging creatures, just never dies. They’re hardly critical or ratings contenders and to challenge Thrones’ domination of the epic genre, most have gone with historical alternatives, like warrior drama Vikings (complete with visions, battles, family breakdowns and a bloke named Ragnar) or Saxon drama The Last Kingdom (complete with visions, battles, family breakdowns and another bloke named Ragnar).

So what does constitute a successful fantasy series? Neil Gaiman’s ratings winner American Gods straddled the line between dark low fantasy and visually arresting mythology. The BBC’s Merlin punched above its weight for more than five years, cornering an unusual sweet spot between family-friendly Saturday night viewing and compelling character-driven drama. A more recent — and far more tongue-in-cheek — musical fantasy, Galavant, wrung the very most out of its twenty-minute comedy runtime, packing in clever laughs and surprisingly catchy songs as the titular hero pined for a damsel who’d turned villain, fought a villain who turned good, and the whole cast burst into falsetto at every available opportunity. Unfortunately, this gem was missed by most — there’s an entire song about the show’s unexpected renewal in the series two premiere — and it seems that the charming trick of not taking yourself too seriously will also be missed by other television efforts for the moment. Upcoming fantasy projects to look out for include adaptations of female-led, seven-book, NYT-bestselling young adult series Queen of Shadows and a multi-episode outing for Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials from Harry Potter and the Cursed Child playwright Jack Thorne.

Has there yet been a perfect fantasy drama? Of course not. Could there be? Perhaps. If there is something to be learned here, it is that the audiences of the small screen have a taste for big stories, including or perhaps especially when they come with the kind of vast, plot-heavy sprawl once thought too hefty for a ten-episode run. It’s the puzzle of the game of thrones that makes it so exciting, and it’s the characters who make us care. Television has more work to do, however, when it comes to bringing audacious pitches to fruition, particularly when it comes to bringing more women to the helm and telling stories that have not been told before. Game of Thrones may be a behemoth looming over its televisual brethren at the moment, but I for one will be keeping an eye on the stories that begin to see the light of day as its shadow slowly recedes.