I have adored Dawn French ever since my sister introduced me to Murder Most Horrid back in the Nineties. The woman is stinkin' funny. At least, she is on television. Not so much in print. Oh Dear Silvia seemed to be trying for a mix of comedy and seriousness, and both came off as rather forced. Add to that my suspicion that this book's editor was either inebriated or nonexistent (comma splices galore, missing commas in direct addresses [unless that's a British English style thing? even when it creates "let's eat Grandma" confused meaning moments?], nigh-unreadable phonetically spelled accents, etc.), and I came up with a sadly disappointing reading experience.
But I still adore Dawn French.
In fact, this story probably would've been better on the small screen.