2.5 stars. Ugh. Not for me. So, I love the high-concept premise of this non-fiction title, because who doesn't wish they had the time to write "real" letters, and who doesn't love to receive them? So, great concept, not so great execution. In short, she wrote a hand-written letter to all 580 of her Facebook friends. The book documents the project.
I'm going to be super honest and say that the author's religiosity was an issue for me. There was a reference to religion and/or praying on almost every single page of this book. The author writes phrases like "BFFs with Jesus" with, presumably, a straight face. Let me be clear--there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. On the contrary, her faith and prayer gave great comfort to a grieving family, and you'd have to be considerably more horrible than me to criticize that. But I'm a secular Jew. In-your-face Christianity is just highly off-putting to me. So, that's just my issue as a Godless heathen. The truth is, I read books set in every exotic culture in the world, and I actively embrace the unfamiliar. I don't know why reading about American Christians is so much less palatable, but I suspect it has a lot to do with the guy shouting at me from the street corner the other day.
My own prejudices aside, 84 Charing Cross Road this was not. The author of that book was so freakin' witty and urbane, and the relationships that developed through that web of correspondence shone through their letters. Every single thing about this author was just very, very ordinary. Her definitions of "outrageous" and "ridiculous" are a lot tamer than my own. She is not a gifted writer. Her prose was a slog. Her many, many references to tears were, I guess, meant to be short-hand for anything approaching real emotion. Likewise, references to "hilarity" stood in for actual humor. And, oh my God, what's the limit for the number of times you can use the word "shenanigans" in a single book? Let me tell you, she exceeded it.
I have no doubt that Ms. Daughters is a very nice lady with good intentions. I'm equally sure that the hundreds of letters she sent to friends, family, and barely acquaintances made their day. Alas, her book about the project did not make mine. Your mileage may vary.