Confession time - I read this the week it came out. Which was, I don't know, almost two months ago? Maybe less. I could just look up the release date and know the answer to that, but I'm at a stage in my life where I'm embracing my ignorance. 
 It's quite blissful. I recommend everyone try it. 
 During the time this was being read by me, I was also trying to write a novel (bad idea, I think to read a novel and try to write one at the same time) and was desperately trying to keep up with my Star Trek rewatch project, a thing I've not updated in a very long time, but I'm still working through. 
 So maybe my head wasn't really in the game while I was reading this. I can't really say anything about it with any authority, all I know is that Sanderson is typically one of my favorite 4 or 5 authors and I'll usually drop whatever I'm doing to read what he's released. His prose is easy breezy to read and his plots are almost always going to be tight, with a twist or two I probably didn't see coming - but felt obvious in retrospect. He's the kind of author I want to be when I grow up. 
 But this one, I don't know, it missed the mark for me. I couldn't find anything to complain about, the dialog was clever, the story never dragged, there was all the ingredients of something really awesome in there. But for whatever reason, I didn't like it that much. 
 It happens, I guess, I may reread it after he's completed the entire Mistborn universe tales that he's promised to write someday and maybe then I'll be blown away. But as of today. My heart wasn't in it from the first page, and I never engaged with this on almost any level. 
 You know, the more I think about it, the more certain I am that it's mostly me. But nonetheless, I give it the dreaded three-stars! Which, of course, actually means that I enjoyed the book, but people tend to think of it as a disappointment. 
 So, sorry Mr Sanderson. I still love you, I'll be ready to go with your next novel.