What an ugly topic, eh? I've recently been embroiled in one of the constant, inexorable and inexhaustible grievance debates re: release dates, over on sffworld. That particular debate had to do with Martin's A Dance with Dragons. While I'm not sure that I could ever be a fan of the man, I buy and read his series in hard cover. There is no doubt that it is one of the very best such series published.
Recently, however, I've seen similar grievances regarding Rothfuss, Lynch, Brett, et al. I still don't get it. I've so much stuff to read that waiting for the release is no more difficult than waiting to wake up in the morning. It gets here when it gets here. I can't help but see the level of criticism, anxiety and vitriol over release dates and updates as having crossed the border into the obsessively unhealthy. To read some of the statements made regarding the issue, one might think that the author is some kind of narcotics dealer intentionally withholding a drug from it's wealthy and withdrawal ridden client base for the sheer enjoyment of inflicting pain.
One of the common realities of life that one faces and, hopefully, learns to accept when transitioning from pre-adulthood to adulthood is that life rarely goes according to plan. Since I understand it is rather gauche (pun completely intended) to be virtuous, let us just say that patience is the best of all coping mechanisms.
Since I loathe reading it in fiction, I apologize to those who also dislike reading what may be viewed as preaching. Would that humanity didn't need preaching, eh?