59 Books Like From the Ashes

I am an adoptive mom twice, both in open arrangements where we maintain lifelong contact with our children’s birth moms and birth dads. My husband and I had little guidance to navigate the complexity of raising adopted children. I do not want others to be ill-prepared, as fortunately for the children, most adoptions today are open. We followed our instincts and looking back, we got a lot right, but we sure could have used some help with the tougher challenges. I am beyond grateful for my journey and I write to give back by sharing our story to help others who come after me.

Becoming a mother rocked my world in countless ways, drawing me to books that explore the raw, unfiltered truth about how challenging motherhood can be. The complexities—the love, guilt, and frustration—resonate deeply with me. Motherhood is also why I started writing; initially, I wanted to process the overwhelming emotions I was feeling. When I began sharing my writing with friends, their “Yeah, me too's” made me realize I wasn’t alone. I have deep respect for authors who can capture the messiness of motherhood so honestly, and I’m inspired by their ability to put into words what so many of us experience.

To this day, I love stories and books that bring a sense of nostalgia to my heart. As I read now, many of these bring me back to my youth and those early days when I really started to love reading. For the most part, books on this list are seen through the eyes of a middle-grade protagonist—stories of overcoming obstacles and finding family in unexpected places. And characters who overcome mistakes, ultimately lending a hand. I love kindness and empathy in these books, whether spread throughout the story or reaching those qualities by the end, more than anything.

For decades I have volunteered in different capacities, helping the hurting and those living on the margins by tutoring and teaching literacy to the formally incarcerated or homeless, teaching parenting in a maximum-security jail, and teaching ESL to resettled immigrants. Because my own suburban father fell into homelessness at the end of his life due to depression, job losses, divorce, and more, I feel tremendous compassion for anyone in this situation. And as the mother of four grown sons, we filled our home with books—especially books that taught compassion so our sons would grow into men with big hearts towards others. I believe we succeeded.

I’ve written books for kids of all ages, and always there were birds. Sparrows singing on windowsills, cardinals arrowing across yards, cormorants diving into Lake Erie, pigeons poking beneath park benches. Those things with feathers make my own heart sing!  Slowly it dawned on me that I wanted to write a book where birds didn’t just flit across the pages but nested at the story’s heart. I had to do a lot of bird research for Perfect. What I learned about the precious, fragile bonds among all Earth’s creatures became one of the book’s themes: big and small, bound by gravity or able to defy it, we are all deeply connected. 

I grew up in the 1960s in the Midwest, in a male-dominated family, where appearances were highly important, where no one seemed to focus on anyone’s feelings or plans (particularly as a female member of the family). As a result, I’m drawn to books where the author explores this type of problematic relationship, of a protagonist trying to carve out her identity in the midst of often overwhelming obstacles. It also interests me to read about women who, like me, somehow managed to discover who they were (I use the word “translate” in my memoir), to carve out an identity that is separate from the idea that people around her erroneously hold to be true.

I was raised as one of two white kids in a large, multiracial adoptive family by loving parents who wanted to change the world. Our parents were thoughtful about adoption, ambitious about the symbolism of our family, and raised us all to be conscious about race, to see it, and to guard against it. But the world is a lot bigger than our house and racism is insidious and so, in a way, we all eventually got swallowed up. So I started thinking hard about the dynamic relationship between race and adoption and family when I was just a kid, and I’ve never really stopped. 

I’ve always lived in a small city in Northern Ontario (Canada) that is surrounded by smaller towns and even smaller villages. I’m a first-generation Canadian who grew up without extended family any closer than Scotland. I’ve learned first-hand how wonderful found families can be. Once I started writing, I was drawn to happy endings and small-town settings where everyone knows your business but has your back too. I hope you enjoy these small-town recommendations as much as I do. Here’s to small towns, found families, and happy endings!

My expertise and passion for these topics stem from my lived experiences. I never understood why I would be the only girl to suffer so much, but now, having written my memoir, I know it all had a purpose. Some people with similar backgrounds write to me, and I try to offer them compassion, encouragement, hope, and understanding. I advise them to write their own memoirs to shed light on different life issues and inspire meaningful conversations. I have been a platinum member of Audible since 2016 and have more than 1000 memoirs in my library—I hope this helped me to choose the best five memoirs for this list!

I am adopted. I am a birth mother and also a mother through adoption. I have lived through all ‘three faces’ of adoption and know how each ‘face’ affects millions of people's lives all over the world. I am passionate that conversations around adoption need to come out of the closet and the secrecy surrounding the subject must disappear. By writing my books, I am on a mission to support adoptees, birth mothers, and adoptive parents and help them realise they are not alone. After publication of my first book in the Survival Without Roots trilogy, I am humbled that people are reaching out to say that reading Book One has helped them so much.