Three years and counting
As I honor the completion of three years of writing on Substack, I reflect on the past year and what's to come in the next.
Three years ago this week, May 23rd, 2023, I posted my first Substack newsletter. That was three days before I began a chemotherapy course after my third bout with cancer. Five years earlier, my gynecologist found an endometrial tumor after a preventative hysterectomy. Then, after my one-year check-up following my hysterectomy, a routine mammogram exposed a tumor in my left breast. Three years later, my oncologist found a tumor in my right-breast. Three cancer diagnoses resulting in three surgeries in just over five years.
In all three cases, I’d been lucky. They’d all been found early, were all Stage 1, were apparently unrelated to each other, and were successfully removed through surgery. No lymph node involvement. No fuzzy margins. Still, given my body’s propensity for growing tumors, after my third diagnosis, my oncologist recommended that I undergo a preventative course of chemo. I wasn’t thrilled with the prospect, but I understood.
My wife and I cancelled our planned trip to Hawaii to celebrate our tenth anniversary, which was already three years late. Cancelled the first time in 2020 due to COVID, we had pulled out all the stops on this trip. But, sadly, it wasn’t to be.
As I prepared for what was going to be a dismal summer, I searched for something that would motivate me and give me hope as I endured this course of treatment. When I looked at the calendar, I realized that my treatment was going to run about sixty-five days. Hmmm, I asked myself, what else had the number sixty-five in it?
If you’re a new subscriber, you might not know that Accidental Mentors: Inspirational Stories of Women Who Shaped my Life Without Even Trying is a micro-memoir collection I began writing when I turned 65. It focuses on sixty-five women who have impacted me in large and small ways throughout my life. Here’s a brief statement about this project’s focus:
My goal in sharing these stories and reflections is to remind us that we are but a collection of interactions, influences, and inspirations. My hope is that in reading these short pieces, you will be reminded of how important each interaction we have is. Just like a monarch butterfly laying eggs on a milkweed plant, what you leave behind is just as important as what you take with you.
When I realized the intersection of sixty-five days and sixty-five stories was calling to me, I accepted that this was not a coincidence but a sign. I took a deep breath and designed my Substack website.
I decided I would start publishing Accidental Mentors as a serialized memoir on the day of my first infusion and continue to publish it concurrently with my course of chemo. I reasoned it would give me something positive to focus on—something other than the toxins coursing through my body. I was mostly right about that.
Publishing every day, however, while undergoing chemo, was not sustainable. I backed off to five days a week, and then four, but eventually, I finished my chemo, and as stubble began to appear on my shaved head, I eventually wrapped up publishing the serialized version of Accidental Mentors on Substack.
So, why am I rehashing this old history, you might ask. I’m excited to announce that (finally) I’ll be releasing Accidental Mentors in print and eBook formats this fall. I’m currently working on the interior design and am thrilled with the results. Each of the women I profiled will receive a two to four page spread focused on one lesson I learned from them. In some cases, they were formal mentors/teachers/family, but in most cases, they were women who crossed my path and left me with something, that unbeknownst to them, I could use to be a better person.
I admit that I haven’t consistently applied every lesson, but I have used them to challenge myself to grow, rethink beliefs I held on to, and inspire me to take risks to do the hard things. I hope this collection inspires you to remember your mentors—accidental and intentional—and maybe take the time to thank them for the gifts they gave you.
How to get your copy of Accidental Mentors
If you are or have been a paid subscriber or if you’re one of the women highlighted in the book, it’s already yours. As I get closer to mailing, I’ll send you a form to make sure I have your current address, know how you’d like the book inscribed, and whether you’d like to order additional copies. You might also consider purchasing one (or more) to give to one of your accidental mentors as a way of thanking them for their inspiration.
If you choose to become a paid subscriber before December 31st, 2026, I’ll mail you an autographed print copy of Accidental Mentors (or e-book if outside the US or Canada) as soon as it’s available (if paying monthly, after you’ve paid for a year).
Accidental Mentors will also be available for purchase directly from the WordsWomen.com, through Bookshop.org, your local independent bookstore, or wherever books are sold.
Reviewing Year Three on Substack
More than I expected to, but not surprisingly given our current state of affairs, I wrote a lot about resistance in some form or another this past year. How could I not? But I tried to address it from different than the usual perspectives. In posts such as Birding for a Better World, Watching the Sun Rise and Other Forms of Resistance, and Restoring Native Habitat, I wanted to remind us that embracing nature is a form of resistance.
In My Sacred Canon, I wrote about how a simple Canon PowerShot camera changed people’s lives including mine, in The Day Love Became Legal I wrote about marriage equality, in Signs of Life, about finding a way through grief.
If you’re interested in catching up on these and anything else you missed, you can find all my previous posts in my website’s archive: https://www.annettemarquis.com/archive. I hope you enjoy them.
What’s in Store for Year Four
On May 29th, 2026, I’ll be celebrating the first anniversary of my retirement. It’s been a wonderful year in so many ways. I still wonder at the expansiveness of time, the freedom to choose how I spend my days, and the gift of creative energy that’s no longer muted by work stress and Zoom calls. I’ll admit that some of this year, I’ve just sat gazing at the birds or binge-watching mindless TV, but even then, it felt like a tremendous gift.
My wife, Wendy, who continues to go to work every day, has been incredibly generous with figuring out how to make the finances work on a reduced income and making sure we have time to be together despite her busy work schedule and her own creative time.
Speaking of Wendy, WordsWomen Press, LLC, the small indie press I formed a couple of years ago, will be publishing her book later in 2026, What Doesn’t Burn: Imagining Richmond’s Grace Arents in Poems. This documentary poetry collection tells the story of a Progressive era woman whose philanthropy and social reform work made a lasting impact in Richmond, Virginia, and explores her relationship with the female companion with whom she shared her life.
It’s an important book that tells the complicated life of a powerful woman at a time when women had to fight even harder to be heard. Watch for more, including the cover reveal on June 20th, the 100th anniversary of Grace’s death, coming soon.
Wandering WordsWomen Travels
In addition to these book projects, Wendy and I will be traveling through Ontario to Manitoba via the northern shore of Lake Superior this summer. I can’t wait! I’ve driven the southern shore many times, but never the northern shore. I can only image that it is even more remote, wild, and beautiful. I’ll let you know what I find.
Thank you for supporting my work
This past year, I published a total of twenty articles, or an average of one every two and half weeks. While that’s not nothing, with all my newly found time, my writing rhythm has been less steady than I thought it would be. I’m deeply grateful to those of you who stayed with me anyway. Although not unexpected, retirement has been a big transition. Figuring out how to shape a new life and creative practice from the ground up has been both exciting and challenging.
As I move into Year Two of retirement and Year Four on Substack, I’m beginning to understand what kind of structure helps me write consistently and well. That means I fully expect that you’ll be hearing from me more regularly in the coming year. I have stories, reflections, and questions I want to explore with you, and I’m excited to return to the page with renewed commitment.
How you can help
If my writing has meant something to you, there are three simple ways you can help sustain and help others discover it:
Read and comment on my newsletter. Comments not only help more people find my writing, they also create the kind of thoughtful community that makes writing online feel connected rather than solitary. You can practice right here:
Read my memoir, Living Into the Truth, and leave a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Reviews genuinely matter in helping readers decide whether to pick up a book. I always encourage people to buy through independent bookstores or Bookshop.org when possible, but reviews on Amazon and Goodreads still make the biggest difference in visibility.
My memoir about claiming truth after a lifetime of secrets Become a paid subscriber to this newsletter. Paid subscriptions directly support the time it takes to research, write, and continue sharing this work. If you’re considering it, see “How to get your copy of Accidental Mentors” above for one of this year’s special subscriber benefits.
THANK YOU!
And to those of you who are already subscribers, especially paid subscribers: just thank you. Your support has given me both encouragement and the confidence to keep writing through a year of transition. I’m deeply grateful that you’ve chosen to invest in this work and walk alongside me as a reader.
Yours in peace and gratitude,
Annette
