Book Reviews
In the book's final scene, she leaves her characters in a shared moment of new joy, one that may or may not last, no guarantees, just like in life and in good literature.
San Francisco Chronicle
Lucky for her readers, Crouch put to use all her cotillion-girl knowledge when she wrote her debut novel, Girls in Trucks.... In her acknowledgements, Crouch thanks her fifth-grade teacher, Dorothy Rhett, who told Crouch she was a writer. Rhett is surely proud. Maybe her cotillion teacher will be, too.
Charlotte Observer
Sarah's voice is a funny, slim stiletto to the heart of friendship, desire and love. Her spare prose and sharp dialogue flay open a universal need to belong, whether to a place, a person or your own true self.
The Oregonian
An unenthusiastic Southern debutante copes with the cruelties of postcollege New York life in Crouch's amusing debut. Sarah Walters is neither a misfit nor the queen of the Camellia Society cotillion scene growing up in Charleston, S.C. But when she and her fellow Camellias try to make a life in New York City, they find themselves coping in unexpectedly dangerous ways—from standard substance addictions to Sarah's fixation on preppy ex-boyfriend Max, a smooth and sadistic child of wealth. While the formula of young women in the big city seems destined for cliché, Crouch subverts most expectations; Sarah almost purposely misses an opportunity for happiness and stability with the gentle lover she met in Europe, and her ploy to ignite sparks with a college friend goes painfully awry. When Sarah goes back to Charleston and faces a perhaps too over-the-top family crisis (it involves suicide and lesbianism), the reader's left with the hope that the worst is over. Though this feels almost like a collection—each chapter its own story with its own narrative technique—Crouch's portrayal of a young woman's self-sabotage and the pitfalls facing young women in a cold world is wise, wry and heartbreaking.
Publishers Weekly
Crouch's debut novel-in-linked-stories chronicles the life of Charleston debutante Sarah Walters from her learning the fox trot in grade school to her finding out family secrets in her mid-thirties. The narrative is as raw, frank, and underdeveloped as the characters within, each of whom makes decisions that are difficult to understand. For example, when Sarah's relationship with an abusive man ends and he starts dating someone else months later, she stalks him. She also plunges into excessive alcohol and drug use, which only further clouds her judgment. Unfortunately, Sarah does not have any Southern "sisters" in whom she can confide, as she and her "Camellias" talk more out of Camellia Society obligation than from any actual affinity; they, too, struggle with unhealthy relationships and addictions. In the end, Crouch's portrait of a lady lacks a distinct Southern charm and does not show contemporary women in a positive light. Stylistically, the book resembles Melissa Bank's The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing, but the unexpectedly abrupt ending may confuse readers and leave them wanting more.
Library Journal
Wry, rueful tales of a Southern debutante's mostly disappointing love life. The unifying motif of Crouch's debut is the Charleston Cotillion Training School, where South Carolina girls and boys of a certain class are taught ballroom dance in preparation for the girls' coming out parties. Prominent among the debutantes are the Camellias, a sorority of women whose mission is to "prepare their daughters for marriage to a decent man." For Sarah Walters and her friends Bitsy, Charlotte and Annie, Camellia membership will mark their most permanent attachment; it seems that for latter-day debutantes there's a shortage of decent men. The novel is comprised of linked short stories, some veering off into the equally problematic amours of peripheral characters including Sarah's brilliant older sister Eloise and their mother. After college, Sarah moves to New York City seeking a writer's life. While working lowly editorial positions, she rooms with Charlotte, a fledgling fashion designer who's in and out of rehab. Sarah's man-that-got-away is blue-blooded Max, who "made money with money." His casual cruelty is not tempered by any redeeming appeal, and Sarah's intractable obsession with him beggars belief. She attempts, vainly, to settle for guys from home, or guys she thought of as just friends but was holding in reserve as fallback lovers. Annie, who never leaves Charleston, survives a relationship with a feckless artist to find love and financial stability. Bitsy marries money, which is scant consolation for her husband's callousness—his infidelities persist as she dies of cancer. Charlotte chooses first drugs, then entrepreneurial success, over relationships. Sarah, finding at 31 that she's"missed [her] window" of opportunity with the fallback guys, has a child by an extremely casual acquaintance. By age 35 she's accepted the fact that neither she nor the men in her life will ever measure up to debutante standards. Gentle humor and sharp observation couched in straightforward prose with none of the preening preciosity so often seen in Southern fiction.
Kirkus Reviews