Reading the work of an excellent writer is a unique sensation almost impossible to describe. But it is as though, sitting in bed or at a coffee shop or in a train, the universe around you dissolves and is replaced by his or her imagination instead. When that imagination is strong enough, everything in the novel becomes natural, inevitable; the writer is a man or woman steering a grand vehicle of words with a sure hand, guiding the reader inexorably towards an ending. Even when the vehicle tips itself over the edge of a precipice, when the plot goes into freefall or when the characters metamorphose before your eyes, you as a reader feel that strange feeling of calm before a cataclysm. Whatever happens, it will be worth it. It will be fine.
It will, in fact, be fantastic.