I fell in love with Jackie Winspear almost at once, right there on Page 24 of her engaging, amusing and moving memoir of growing up in the post-World War II English countryside. And then there’s the hopeful — and hopefully prescient — title of the book: This Time Next Year We’ll Be Laughing. It was hard to resist ... the further I read, the more kinship I felt ... They’re good stories, well told, even if the writing sometimes slouches toward cliche (you could make a game of counting how many times she says something was 'polished to a shine'). They’re stories that wrap you in charm and good humor, and a sense of the resilience that undergirds Winspear’s tale.
... affecting, personal ... Winspear effectively transports readers into each moment with rich descriptions of even the smallest details. From recalling the fragrance of the hop fields she worked in to exploring her anxieties as generational trauma, her writing is visceral and beautiful. Winspear thoughtfully examines her 'parents’ war' and its resulting impact on her life. Her words are hopeful and bright, and imbued with a resilience that will resonate with readers ... Fans of Winspear’s Maisie Dobbs books will appreciate the connections she draws between her childhood and themes throughout the series. Yet the book will appeal well beyond Winspear’s fan base as a literary memoir deeply linked to history and as a meditation on place and family.