Every once in a while, a novel spins onto the page with a cast of characters so singular, so delightfully offbeat, that you feel like you’ve stumbled into the Texas cousin of a Fredrik Backman story. David Williams’ Carousel Grift is just that kind of ride—a whirlwind of humor, heartbreak, and hard-earned second chances, all set against the faded lights of a quirky Lone Star amusement park.
At the heart of the story is single-mom, drifter Callie Wind and estranged daughter Sophie, a televangelist turned grifter whose mother-daughter feud filters the pages with resentment, snake oil, and unfinished business. Williams packs the novel with cons, swindles, and pyramid schemes that are as dizzying as the carousel itself but always grounded in the flawed humanity of people trying—sometimes failing, sometimes fumbling—to reach for more. Capturing a brass ring appears throughout the novel as an anchor and talisman of how we all reach for something that will fix everything. Until we realize we may not know what to do with it once it’s in our hands.
What elevates Carousel Grift beyond its eccentric plotlines is Williams’ gift for sentences that make you pause, laugh, and sometimes wince with recognition. Lines like, “His soul was down on one knee, and it was time to take a breather” or “They kissed like two people who had finally dropped a dreadful diet plan in favor of an all-you-can-eat kissing buffet” are worth savoring like the last sweet bite of cotton candy before it dissolves on your tongue.
Grifts and ghosts, friends and foes, and a steer named Beefo (a sly nod to the University of Texas mascot, Bevo) makes Carousel Grift a ride worth taking. It’s laugh-out-loud funny, tender in unexpected places, and sharp-eyed about the games we play with each other and ourselves. Like Callie, you may find that happiness isn’t about stopping the ride at all, but about holding on through the dizzying turns—and maybe, if you’re lucky, catching the brass ring along the way.