Blending memoir and reportage, journalist McLaughlin debuts with a disturbing look at the predatory nature of the blood plasma industry. Plasma, "the watery, yellowish protein compound of blood," is collected by hooking donors up to a centrifuge so their blood can be extracted, spun into its parts, and infused back into the donor's arm. One of only five countries that allows payment for plasma donors, the U.S. is the primary source of the world's supply, and McLaughlin, who suffers from a rare nerve disease treated with infusions of a plasma-borne medicine, profiles sellers, many of whom come from "economically disadvantaged" communities like Flint, Mich., and El Paso, Tex., where donation centers thrive. About 10,000 Mexicans cross the border into the U.S. each week to sell their plasma, she notes. McLaughlin also sketches the history of the plasma economy in the Chinese province of Henan, which became ground zero for a devastating AIDS outbreak in the 1990s. Throughout, she interweaves shocking revelations about lax regulations, tainted blood, and potential side effects for frequent donors with piercing meditations on how it feels to know that her medication "is built on the backs of quiet, hidden economic desperation." The result is a captivating and anguished exposé. Agent: Ian Bonaparte, Janklow & Nesbit Assoc. (Feb.)

There is a vampirish vibe to journalist McLaughlin's eye-opening reporting on "the weird world of clinical plasma harvesting." People congregate at commercial plasma centers and present a vein to be tapped for a precious blood component in exchange for a small amount of money. Meanwhile, a greedy plasma industry is portrayed as targeting, marginalized, vulnerable donors. McLaughlin (who needs IV infusions of immunoglobulin derived from donated plasma to control her inflammatory disease) writes chillingly that "the world of blood is built on the bodies of the poor." She interviews donors (regular folks struggling to afford groceries and gas, healthy college students) and discovers there is no stereotypical plasma seller and that altruism is an afterthought. With more than 1,000 donor-compensating plasma extraction centers in 2021 and millions peddling their plasma, the U.S. might be considered the "OPEC of blood plasma." McLaughlin's distressing assessment of the plasma economy spotlights the value of the substance for patients, individuals in financial need who provide it, and big-business blood-traders who profit handsomely from it.

A disquieting book examines a dark corner of American life. If there was any doubt that the country's wealth gap has grown untenably wide, this book dispels it. In her debut book, McLaughlin, an award-winning journalist, turns her investigative eye on the plasma collection industry, which is astonishingly large but mostly hidden from public view. She has a personal reason for digging into it: She suffers from a rare nerve disease that requires "periodic infusions of a medicine made from human blood plasma." The author began to wonder where the products originated and about the people who sell their plasma. She had initially expected that the sellers would be a small number of downtrodden people at the bottom of the social ladder. Instead, she found that most sellers come from the middle class. They often have jobs but struggle to make ends meet. They use the money from selling plasma to buy groceries or gas, cover bills, or repay loans. While there is no exact count of the number of sellers, a good guess is that more than 20 million people donate each year, "nearly 8 percent of the U.S. population of people 18 years or older." As McLaughlin shows, a surprising amount of plasma is exported. In 2021, the value of American blood products sold overseas exceeded $24 billion. The pharmaceutical companies that buy the plasma understand their donor base, and they locate collection clinics in areas hit by economic decline. They often pay repeat donors more. For her research, McLaughlin interviewed scores of donors and found that many felt exhausted and ill after making a donation. The long-term health effects of multiple donations is unknown, although McLaughlin surmises that there must be some damage inflicted. "This book," she writes, "began as a quest to find the people on whose plasma I depend…. I found a splintered society, divided by economics." It is a distressing conclusion but an inescapable one. A disturbing, painful story that smoothly combines the personal and the universal. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.