I have the last book of the Dark Tower series in my hot little hands. Expect nothing from me for the hours until I have finished.

The funny thing is that I know it’ll probably be a little disappointing. I’m sure it’ll be good, mind you, I’ll even give reasonably good odds on great, but there is simply no way that the last book of a seven book epic spanning god knows how many years can live up to my expectations. (And I’ve only been reading them for two years–some people have waited thirty.) Particularly not quasi-horror. Sooner or later, you have to show the monster, and nothing is ever as scary as the build-up.* But that doesn’t really matter–the important thing is that this is the end of the road, and I’ll enjoy it. Even if it’s total crap from beginning to end, I’ll devour it like some kind of literary scatophage. Because…well…we’ve come this far.

*With the possible exception of the thing in “Alien” and only the first one.

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