This is the book I most wanted for Christmas this year, and after some wrangling with the cherubs about who would be the lucky one to hand over the book of choice this year, the lovely Megan came to the party and this was her present to me. I wanted to love love love this book, the first couple of pages had me hooked in immediately and the teenage girl who gets the opening chapter bore a remarkable similarity to teenage girls I have parented! However, just like the real variety this one gets tiring very quickly. The teenage boy who has adopted camp in the style of Oscar Wilde is amusing for a couple of chapters and then – whaddya know is also irritating. The Mum of the book is it’s saving grace, along with the fabulous Grandmother, who was the one character where you could really see Dawn’s wit and clever way with words coming through, I loved the tea and sympathy, but especially the terrifically pointed comments she provided along with fabulous cakes.
I spend a lot of time in recent years saying “where is the editor?” when I am reading, and I think this book could have been infinitely better with the help of a big red ballpoint. It is a constant frustration to me that so much ‘non story’ slips into the books I read.
This is a mid-life crisis, chick-lit-ish kind of book and obviously I am only the target market of the first, and chick-lit is just not for me, not enough action, too much navel gazing for me. I really like Dawn French and I’m pleased I read the book, despite it’s faults and my rather ordinary attitude to it once I got to half way, I had to pour myself a large glass and lock myself away to finish the thing. I am going to try the lovely sounding cake recipes at the end of the book. Below is the promo for the book..