Review: Dear Mrs. Bird by A.J. Pearce

Dear Mrs. Bird by A.J. Pearce

Blurb from Goodreads:

London, 1940. Emmeline Lake is Doing Her Bit for the war effort, volunteering as a telephone operator with the Auxiliary Fire Services. When Emmy sees an advertisement for a job at the London Evening Chronicle, her dreams of becoming a Lady War Correspondent suddenly seem achievable. But the job turns out to be working as a typist for the fierce and renowned advice columnist, Henrietta Bird. Emmy is disappointed, but gamely bucks up and buckles down.

Mrs. Bird is very clear: letters containing any Unpleasantness must go straight in the bin. But when Emmy reads poignant notes from women who may have Gone Too Far with the wrong men, or who can’t bear to let their children be evacuated, she is unable to resist responding. As the German planes make their nightly raids, and London picks up the smoldering pieces each morning, Emmy secretly begins to write back to the readers who have poured out their troubles.

Prepare to fall head over heels for Emmy and her best friend, Bunty, who are gutsy and spirited, even in the face of a terrible blow. The irrepressible Emmy keeps writing letters in this hilarious and enormously moving tale of friendship, the kindness of strangers, and ordinary people in extraordinary times. 

My Review:
 

This book was underwhelming to say the least.  The one thing I do give this book credit for is for making me think about the London raids during World War II, which I think are often forgotten.  So it was a good portrayal of life in London during that time but it wasn't much else. . . .despite happening during a war, it felt unbelievably naive.  I also question it being described as hilarious.  It wasn't.  It was rather sad, staid and predictable.  That being said, the writing was not bad and if you want a lighter sort of war read, this might work for you.  

Dear Mrs. Bird comes out next week on July 3, 2018, and you can purchase HERE.  

I followed them in and politely ask the attendant for the third floor. Then I lifted up my chin and felt uppity from under my hat. Becoming a Lady War Correspondent would hardly be a walk in the park, but I wasn't surprised. My mother always said that a lot of men think that having bosoms means you're a nitwit. She said the cleverest thing is to let them assume you're an idiot, so you can crack on and prove them all wrong.