Novelist Timothy Zahn is the man who saved 'Star Wars,' according to fans

Timothy Zahn, who is 65 and bald and carries an ever-so-slight air of social anxiety, is nobody's image of a superstar. And yet as he sat behind table No. 26 and waited for fans, he did not wait long. The doors to the convention hall at McCormick Place opened at 10 a.m., and by 10:10 a.m. the line of people to meet Zahn was the second-longest at C2E2, the massive Chicago comic book convention held each spring. Only Stan Lee, creator of Spider-Man and the Hulk, could boast longer lines. This was a few weeks ago, just as "Thrawn," Zahn's latest "Star Wars" novel, was debuting at No. 2 on The New York Times' best-seller list.

He splayed his hands before him and held the expression of a man who knew what to expect: He would sit for several hours and sign autographs and accept heartfelt compliments and his line would not slack — not for a moment would he wait awkwardly, like so many authors, feeling a rising panic as a well of fans runs dry. Melissa Dalton of Valparaiso approached. She held a paperback of "Heir to the Empire," the 1991 novel that established Zahn as a giant in the "Star Wars" galaxy. The spine of the book was so broken from bending that the title was unreadable.

"I've read it a few times," she said.

Zahn nodded and thanked her — not effusively, not even warmly, but sincerely. Behind her stood a few hours of waiting fans, carrying towering stacks of books to sign. Some brought action figures of characters that Zahn — not George Lucas — had introduced to "Star Wars." A teenage girl stood off to the side and took Zahn's picture. She said to a friend: "So there's this huge pantheon of 'Star Wars' books that have never been made into movies or TV. Which is stupid, but this dude, he's the best at those stories."

Zahn grew up in Lombard and studied physics at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, but almost no one mentioned it or seemed aware this was a homecoming. They seemed, instead, to think of him as the man who saved "Star Wars." Eric Van Tassell of Chicago thanked Zahn as if he were a returning vet, then stepped away from the table, buoyant: "Look, if that guy hadn't written three good 'Star Wars' novels 25 years ago, nobody would care about 'Star Wars' in 2017! And that's the truth — that's no exaggeration."

As "Star Wars" celebrates the 40th anniversary of its release, it would be a shame to overlook Zahn's quiet significance. In 1991, the year "Heir to the Empire" was released, "Return of the Jedi," the last of the original "Star Wars" movies, was already eight years old. Lucas was considered semi-retired, and the franchise itself appeared to be in suspended animation.

"I was working at Bantam (Books) around this time, and we came up with the idea of starting 'Star Wars' again via novels," said Betsy Mitchell, who was Zahn's editor for years (as well as editor to many science fiction greats, from Isaac Asimov to Octavia Butler). "It was quite serendipitous, because Lucasfilm wanted books, too. And I liked Tim. He was great at characters, he knew how to pull off a big-scale space adventure. What happens? 'Heir to the Empire' goes No. 1 on the Times' best-seller list, in hardcover. Which takes everybody by surprise, so the feeling becomes: 'Maybe there are more stories here.'"

What followed was a "Star Wars" tidal wave.

First, new books, games (which became known as the Expanded Universe). Then new movies. That wave has not receded. Jimmy Mac, co-host of the popular Chicago-based podcast Rebel Force Radio, said Zahn has come to represent, in "Star Wars" lore, "the end of the so-called Dark Times."

Indeed, at C2E2, Zahn signed autographs for almost five hours, without a break in the line. At Star Wars Celebration in Orlando last month, the semi-annual Lucasfilm-organized gathering of the "Star Wars" community, Zahn's publisher, Del Rey (a division of Penguin Random House), sold 1,700 copies of "Thrawn," and the lines to attend Zahn's talks grew so large, fans were turned away an hour before the events began. When they met him, Zahn's readers told him that his novels were the first books they ever read for fun, and they told him his books made their military deployments easier.

He said later: "There were more people who wanted to talk to me than me's."

Zahn — who has written more than 40 science fiction novels (not including the dozen "Star Wars" novels he's done in the past 25 years alone) — is a curious guy. He is watchful, patient; he studies you. He does not go out of his way to endear himself. He dresses in black ("it's easier that way"). With his goatee and austerity, he's a doppelganger for "Star Wars" composer John Williams. He makes "Dr. Who" references. He wears a white Casio watch.

He is that rarest of contemporary nerds, the non-hipster old-school nerd.

"Absolutely Tim is geeky, but in the best, endearing way," Mitchell said.

In a makeshift tent on the Orlando convention floor, behind curtains to counter the frequent interruption of fans, Zahn called his Lombard boyhood "not overly social." He said: "I would rather curl up with a book than play. A lot of Alistair MacLean (adventure novels), but also Asimov — science fiction wise, someone like Bradbury was a little soft for me. I liked heavily plotted writers. I devoured Sherlock Holmes and mythologies. I was good at school. I went to Glenbard East High School, and Michigan State, and I worked toward a doctorate in physics at UI Urbana-Champaign. I liked physics and how the universe worked — the order of it.

"But I had also been writing as a hobby, and I had sold stories. My wife and I talked it over and decided I would give writing full time a shot for one year. I set a goal of making $1,000 (on writing alone). My first story was called 'Ernie.' It was about a boy who could teleport an inch at a time. He becomes a boxer because he thinks that extra inch will give him an advantage. But he didn't have the weight. That first year I wound up with $2,000 in sales."

By the late 1980s, Zahn had a respectable career as a science fiction author. Then, in 1989, as he was working on a new book, Mitchell called him and told him to stop — Lucasfilm wanted "Star Wars" books. He would be the first outsider to tinker around in George Lucas' universe.