And yet, during an Islands birthday vacation with her three
best friends – paid for by Charles, of course – 45-year-old
Aja realized that she never had what her soul needed.
Once, she’d showed promise as a painter and it was her
passion. She was good at it but, as she realized at the
island resort, nobody listened when she said she wanted to
paint forever. Her high school guidance counselor and her
parents shooed her away from it. Her husband and children
called it “a hobby.” When Aja said she wanted to open an art
gallery, her friends didn’t take her seriously, either.
So, like the good wife she was expected to be, she put her
own needs aside to take care of Charles and the children.
She painted when she could, which was rare because her time
was spent looking for lost socks and lost golf clubs and
doing what her family demanded of her.
And then Aja met a strange Island woman who told her that
she needed to walk her own purpose, words that struck her to
the core. Finally, Aja knew what made her feel so unsettled,
and she went home to face her future.
But was it with – or without – Charles? Aja’s best
friends thought she was crazy to give up a good man for the
unknown. And the house and the lifestyle, too? Insane! Ah,
but just thinking about a quiet art gallery and an easel
made Aja smile.
Could she really do it?
Dreams deferred. Is that the story of your very existence?
If so, then you’ll love having More to Life… more or
less.
More, because author ReShonda Tate Billingsley offers fans
another novel that reads as though she’s spent a month
spying on their lives and calendars, and anyone who’s ever
lost a dream or shelved one indefinitely will feel a kinship
with Aja. That character, as well as the rest of
Billingsley’s cast, feels familiar, almost personal, and
mostly likeable, although the situations they’re placed in
(here’s the “less”) are really too over-the-top. Suffice it
to say that there’s a Big Event inside this tale that
abruptly alters the entire course of the story, adding
unnecessary drama to a situation that was arguably better
and more relatable without embellishment.
Still, if a dream is like a butterfly in your hands, or if
you’ve ever moved to seize a what-if, then this book
will read like a diary for you. Start More to Life
and you won’t be able to keep it to yourself.
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