While We Were Watching Downton Abby

by Wendy Wax

I gave up at page 17 and couldn’t drag myself through another sentence. Wendy Wax seems convinced that every reader of “women’s fiction” is desperate for an Atlanta-flavored Sex and the City, but the result is painfully uninspired. The tired, predictable dynamic between the privileged, judgmental mother-in-law and the beleaguered daughter-in-law is nothing but recycled clichés. The writing fails to elevate the dull premise, and the supposed drama amounts to nothing more than grating, self-indulgent rich-people problems. Even the cover art is awful and a fitting introduction to an utterly forgettable book.