Impossible Certainty
Why I Told an Adoption Story Through Magical Realism
Dear Friends,
When I decided to shift from memoir to fiction, Magical Realism felt like the natural form for writing the adoption experience. Rather than relying on realism alone, I chose to tell Stella’s adoption story through a magical lens.
As an adopted person, I know what it is to hold multiples: belonging and separation, chosen and relinquished, love and gratitude alongside loss and disenfranchised grief. These contradictions are the lived reality of adoption. The morning glories were the Estate's impossible certainty. Every Winter Solstice they appeared in the snow, defying explanation while refusing doubt.
Without the language of psychology, I have something else: metaphor.
Through the Yew Hedge was my attempt to make visible the fragmentation that relinquishment creates for both infant and mother, and to explore how secrecy, sealed records, and concealed origin stories ripple through the entire Adoption Triad.
My own adolescence was marked by identity bewilderment; a sense of living between worlds that many adoptees recognize. The phrase “identity crisis” floated through popular culture. I internalized it, but it never quite explained what I was felt. Without the confidence or support to speak about my distress, I carried the pain privately, feeling guilt and shame for being unknowable, unidentifiable, an imposter. Many adoptees recognize this feeling of being neither here nor there.
Duality Magic
Young adoptee, Stella, sees other worlds in mirrors. Plants respond to her emotions. She discovers she exists in two worlds. These aren’t signs of pathology; her identity is fragmented. Her sensitivity is heightened. But these are manifestations of her dual heritage. The language of the inner world and the otherworld allowed room for mystery without sacrificing emotional truth.
Magical realism allowed me to tell the truth slant-wise. It allowed contradictions to coexist without demanding resolution. It offered a way to explore identity formation, inherited trauma, longing, and belonging through image and metaphor rather than argument. Most importantly, it allowed me to write toward feelings that realism sometimes can’t name.
Sometimes we need stories that don’t explain away the contradictions but instead give them room to exist. Magical realism lets us tell the truth slant-wise. It lets us hold the paradox without resolving it.
Until next time — stay safe.
Mary Ellen (Mel)
A Note About the Serialization Archive
Over the next week, I’ll gradually be moving the twelve illustrated episodes of Through the Yew Hedge into the subscriber archive.
The complete serialized version has been available free here on Substack for many months, and I am deeply grateful to everyone who read along, commented, and encouraged the project as it grew.
Now that the novella is available as an e-book and will soon be appearing in print, the serialized episodes will gradually become part of the archive. The Prologue and The Cedar Grove will remain freely available as an introduction to the story.
New readers will still be able to explore the world of the Silverton Estate through excerpts, essays, images, and related posts, while the complete tale remains available in book form.
If you’ve been meaning to read the series, now is a good time to bookmark it or begin before the archive transition.
Thank you for walking these paths with me.
Mary Ellen
