Tapioca Fire opens with adoptee Susan being offered a chance to visit Thailand, the country of her birth. This quest is hers: she discovers the truth behind her relinquishment, the life she might have led and a new purpose for her life going forward.
But it is as much the story of her adoptive parents who became pioneers in international adoption after weathering an irreversible tragedy. This tribute to all aspects of the adoption triad includes stories of the women and men who gave children away lovingly, pragmatically or under horrible duress, and introduces us to David who, like many adoptees, chooses never to search for his missing father.
If you want to learn more about adoption, including the rich search & reunion subculture populated with sleuths, search angels and political activists, Tapioca Fire is a journey worth taking.
I have worked as a Japanese-English interpreter, a TV field producer, and in corporate IT.
Part of my childhood was TV-free in rural Maine where I fell in love with Thomas Hardy, Guy de Maupassant, François Mauriac, and the Brontë sisters only to spend decades away reading practical non-fiction, especially concerning coding, enterprise hardware, and IT security.
Two exceptions to this sensibleness were years I binge-read reunion memoirs after being found by my birth-mother {see virtual bookshelf link}. Most recently I have been binge-reading fiction and non-fiction in the reclamation of my paternal Indigenous heritage.
After eighteen years away, I returned to that same Maine island and it is a lovely place to read.
Full disclosure: I'm the author and I think it would be helpful to include this alternate description of TAPIOCA FIRE that an editor friend liked:
This novel goes beyond the expected adoption story. Adoption memoirs typically tell the new parents’ story and end with “gotcha day” when they triumph over obstacles to finalize the contract that makes a baby their own. Relinquishment and search memoirs tell the story of the Baby Scoop Era when several million babies were given away by or taken from American girls, or Asian girls, or Eastern European girls, or Latin American girls. Search and reunion memoirs tell of the adopted person finally becoming the hero of their own story and finding their truth. Tapioca Fire interweaves the joy and pain of these three narratives across continents and decades with compassion, wit, and memorable scenes and language.