Written with the warmth, wit, and heartbreaking humor that have made Stephen McCauley's previous novels beloved by readers and critics alike, True Enough is a story of love and lust, trust and betrayal, commitment and denial; it signals a major leap forward in the career of a novelist whom the San Francisco Chronicle has called "a ... more »writer of insight, surprise, and finesse." True Enough begins with Jane Cody; at forty she has it all: a satisfying career as a producer at a Boston public television station, a successful second marriage, a wildly precocious six-year-old son who loves to bake. She's definitely not worried about losing her job, couldn't care less what the neighbors think of her child, and absolutely never longs for her rakish, unfaithful first husband. Honestly. Equally pleased with his life is Desmond Sullivan. His (secretly) monogamous relationship with Russell has been the happy center of his New York life for half a decade, and his second book, the biography of an obscure '60s-era female vocalist is (and has been for three years) mere pages away from completion. By accepting a temporary teaching job in Boston, he'll get enough distance from his distracting happiness to finish his book and maybe even figure out how much blissful domesticity he can stand. When Jane and Desmond meet, they're drawn to each other by needs and fears they never knew they had. They team up to work on a series of TV documentaries on the lives of America's forgotten artistic mediocrities -- according to Jane, "the whole culture is drifting away from geniuses and exceptional people who only make the rest of us feel inadequate" -- that could save Jane's career and help Desmond wrap up his book. They embark on a journey that proves to be surprising, revealing, and stunningly life-affirming. Of course, no journey is easy, and their progress toward uncovering the truth about enigmatic pop singer Pauline Anderton (a real singer, even if, at times, a really bad one) is slowed by pesky personal crises -- like Jane's realization that adultery with one's former husband is still adultery, and Desmond's discovery, on a return trip to New York, of a suspiciously unfamiliar pair of eyeglasses on his nightstand. Maybe Jane's shrink -- to whom she's confessing all, more or less -- can help. And maybe Desmond can learn something from Jane's handsome, flirtatious married brother. Or maybe the answer to each of their problems has been there all along, like a lost coin, waiting to be picked up and polished and put back into circulation. But then, true love can be so embarrassing.