As a side note, this book might have worked if Crouch had skipped the sci-fi angle altogether and just used a woo-woo meditation method one of the characters discovers, say, deep in the Himalayas or on late-night paranormal talk radio. Yeah, that would have been much better than bothering with force-wedging matters into sci-fi.
So, why did I bother finishing? First off, a recommendation from Andy Weir is hard to ignore. Secondly, and this may have a lot to do with Weir's high regards for this book, the page-to-page writing really is top-notch. Definitely a pleasurable read, in its own "look at my skilled wordsmithing" way. However and returning to my previous themes, this is ultimately a hollow shell of a book.
Two out of Five Stars, but only for the writing that kept the story rolling and the skill required for keeping timelines sorted out. Not recommended. In fact, this one exposure is enough to put me off of Blake Crouch's books altogether.
ps: If you want a real sci-fi story about time travel that results in tragedy, timeline patches, and various resulting nosebleeds, just go watch the classic movie Primer. It has a much better treatment of time travel, explores the same themes, and won't waste your time on beautiful, empty prose. In fact, thinking back on it, Crouch just might have borrowed the whole time-shock-nosebleed thing from Primer. That one is a little, well, too on the nose to be otherwise.
