For some reason...and I'm not blaming (or crediting) this for the enduring neglect the blog is suffering...I have been reading more than a proportionately responsible amount of Star Wars fiction this year.
There were the graphic novels (Dark Empire I & II) I read in late March and early April. Those reminded me of how Star Wars had a tendency to want to keep revisiting the same story with the same characters because killing any of them off – God forbid Boba Fett stays dead in the Sarlac pit – would apparently anger the fans more than middling stories. But I also have read the Star Wars meets zombies Star Wars: Red Harvest, Star Wars: The Wrath of Darth Maul, and Star Wars: Iron Fist as part of this year's Reading Project. Still have Star Wars: Solo Command to go to finally finish off the Wraith Squadron books. I'm not sure if I'll ever read Stackpole's X-Wing books; it would be damning not to, since I did read his novelization of the recent Conan the Barbarian (2011) movie.
Anyway, as I find myself struggling with my own satisfaction of the fantasy and horror short stories I'm trying to write (and why can't I ever consider something finished?), I must note that it is odd that I am plinking away at the huge Star Wars catalog of books.