This is going to be short because I cannot bring myself to care anymore. The stakes were high. I didn’t care. People died. I didn’t care. People lived. I didn’t care. One of the reasons I freaking hate Wendig’s third person present tense writing style is that it makes me feel distanced from the characters and the action, like I’m reading stage direction for a play I've never seen. I still think he’s a decent storyteller, but he’s just not my cuppa. And I’m glad my favorite characters made it out. But even more than that, I’m glad it’s over with.
Please, Powers That Be, don’t let this man write more Star Wars novels. My lifelong Star Wars obsession will compel me to buy them and read them, and that will most definitely propel me further down the path of the Dark Side.
Nobody really wants that.