Editorial Review - Kirkus Review

McGrail offers a novel about two well-meaning friends who seem to get in trouble at every turn.

Jericho Canderankle, a rising star at Abbott Industries, is tasked with the last-minute planning of the upcoming 1978

Sycamore Centennial Parade. Feeling pressure to perform, she somewhat reluctantly hires her out-of-work husband,

Clark, (nicknamed “Poodle”) and her brother, Babylon (known as “Milk”) as door-to-door salespeople to help raise

awareness and promote float sales for the parade. She soon realizes her mistake in doing so, and before long, finds

herself cleaning up their messes. Longtime pals Poodle and Milk, adopting a divide-and-conquer approach, set off in

separate directions; their lackadaisical attitude toward work, and their propensity for hijinks, lead them into complicated

interactions with a bevy of characters, such as an angry businessman, a geriatric garage-band choir, an unusually

accurate fortune teller, a suspicious pharmacist, and the residents of a home for wayward children. A recent spate of

robberies in the nearby town leads to a case of mistaken identity, landing Poodle in jail; meanwhile, gang leader Bobby

Cowl arrives in town with associates Billy and Max. Posing as the Rev. Tucker Fry, the founder of a new church called the

Witness to the Apocalypse, Cowl is also approaching business owners seeking space to hold their weekly spiritual

gatherings. The gang’s ulterior motives are soon revealed as McGrail effectively weaves together parallel storylines;

however, readers will have to wait until a planned sequel for the conclusion of this tale of jesters and fools. In this

installment, however, readers are introduced to a great many characters. The author’s use of constantly shifting points of

view is helpful, as is the straightforward, staccato writing style and wry humor: “He liked being Milk. And he liked Poodle

being Poodle. He was pretty sure Jericho liked it that way too.” Over the course of the narrative, McGrail teases the reader

with tiny morsels of information about various players, although which revelations add value isn’t always clear. Still, there’s

plenty of welcome chaos.

                        - Kirkus Reviews

"In The Sycamore Centennial Parade, Charles McGrail spins a nostalgic, often hilarious yarn about a trio of quirky small-town characters—Babylon “Milkman” Hurley, his brother-in-law Clark “Poodle” Canderankle, and the indomitable Jericho—who bumble their way into promoting their town’s centennial celebration. Set in 1978, Sycamore, the story draws from everyday absurdity to craft a heartwarming comedy of errors, rich with banter, unlikely schemes, and quiet reflections on identity, family, and small-town life. As Jericho rallies her lovable but unreliable crew to canvas local businesses for parade support, what unfolds is less a professional campaign and more a slow-moving circus, complete with tie mishaps, dietary debates, and diner drama.

I loved the writing style. It’s alive with personality. McGrail’s voice crackles with humor, clever turns of phrase, and old-school charm. The dialogue sings—snappy, smart, and so natural you forget you’re reading. His characters? They’re ridiculous in the best way. Lovable screw-ups with big hearts and bigger mouths. And while the plot hums at a leisurely pace, I never found myself bored. Every scene feels like a short sitcom episode—tight, colorful, and just a little chaotic. The author doesn’t chase big drama. He trusts in the small stuff: banter, nostalgia, clashing egos, and the slow burn of friendships tested and reaffirmed. It’s low-stakes storytelling with high emotional payoff.

The story is long, and sometimes the jokes stretch a beat too far or the scenes linger past their welcome. But oddly, I didn’t mind much. The indulgence feels earned. McGrail clearly adores his characters—especially Milk and Poodle—and that affection is infectious. Beneath all the antics is a surprisingly tender meditation on second chances and reinvention. These aren’t just goofballs; they’re men pushed out of their old lives and forced to find new ways to matter. Jericho, too, shines as the competent, quietly frustrated linchpin who holds it all together. If you’ve ever juggled family and ambition, you’ll see yourself in her.

The Sycamore Centennial Parade is a warm and entertaining love letter to community, misfits, and starting over. It’s a small-town tale with a big, goofy heart. I’d recommend it to fans of Richard Russo or Fannie Flagg, or anyone who loves a character-driven story with quick wit and genuine soul."

                                                                                                 - Literary Titan