Mary Roblyn, 70, on losing her husband and the healing power of writing

A [B]old Woman Q&A with one of Substack’s most exceptional writers

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“Writing is at the very core of my being. It brings a huge sense of purpose, which I think is the key ingredient to aging well.” — Mary Roblyn

Mary Roblyn writes exquisitely about something exquisitely painful… and that is the death of her husband. I’ve been married for 53 years, to a man I am still in love with, and the idea of losing him is unbearable. Reading Mary’s experience of grief after three years since her husband’s death is unsettling; she offers a glimpse of something that is so private, so immense, so frightening—a topic that is almost too hard to think about, let alone write about.

But with her pen, Mary makes it accessible, even beautiful, for a reader like me. A reader full of that particular fear. She writes, “Almost daily, I find myself stunned by some small remembered sweetness, or an unresolved hurt. Sometimes I’m ambushed by a longing so intense I need to stand still, eyes closed, waiting for it to subside.”

Mary’s Writer, interrupted is a two-time Substack Featured Publication, read by nearly 6,000 subscribers. She also writes about Minnesota winters made even colder by the presence of ICE, her burgeoning spring garden (ravaged by rabbits), and more. Whatever the topic, she draws us in with the rhythm and specificity of her writing, and through the emotion we can feel so clearly behind her words, and connect with. Her essays are as good as any you’ll find in The New Yorker. As one of her readers put it recently, “You open the door and I simply do not want to leave.”

At the same time, like most good writers, Mary does not write alone. She is an active participant in Maya C. Popa’s Conscious Writers Collective, and as you’ll read below, she credits that experience with sharpening her craft and making her a better writer.

For a behind-the-scenes with a very [b]old writer, read on.

Mary Roblyn, photographed by her daughter

Debbie Weil: Mary, tell us how you became a writer, and an enviable one at that.

Mary Roblyn: I’ve been a writer since I was seven. But as I grew up in a family which discouraged such things, I kept my writing a secret. Despite – or because of – their opposition to girls’ education, I moved out at 19 and worked to support myself as a full-time student, graduating from the University of Minnesota with a degree in anthropology and linguistics. I got married at 23. We had a daughter and a son; I stayed home with them for several years. Although I published a few things in literary journals, I never earned an income from my creative work. I worked in philanthropy, as a grant writer, and as a book publicist. None of the jobs I held were satisfying, and mental health issues kept me from pursuing fulfilling work. But I kept writing. I took classes and joined a writer’s group. I even got my MFA in my 40s.

It wasn’t until I began my Substack that I became a paid writer. And now, a bestseller. I’m incredibly grateful for the generosity of my subscribers.

DW: You spent a long time taking care of your dying husband; how are you taking care of yourself these days?

MR: It’s been challenging. As I wrote about in a recent post, All Things Must Pass, I had to say goodbye to my 23-year-old cat, Mini. She was a wonderful companion for two decades, and saw me through the death of my husband and the three years since then. I cared for her when age took its toll. She slept in my bed every night. It’s a big loss.

I have a daughter and son who live nearby. They will say things like, “Mom, you need to get out more.” And they’re right. Now that it’s spring, I’m spending time in nature. I live in the Twin Cities, near the Mississippi River. There are bike paths and walking trails everywhere. I have great neighbors and wonderful friends. A six-year-old girl lives next door. Everyone should have a six-year-old in their life.

And then there’s the Writer, interrupted community! My readers sustain me. I could not do this without them. There are many times when I think I should send out a post, but I know it’s not ready. My readers deserve my best work.

Writing is at the very core of my being. It brings a huge sense of purpose, which I think is the key ingredient to aging well. And the writers on Substack are extraordinary. I try to be a good literary citizen by promoting others, buying their books, and taking out as many paid subscriptions as I can afford.

I love Substack. I’ve found my home.

DW: You’ve been so forthright in writing about your grief, as in your recent What I Learned in My Third Year as a Widow. Does writing about it ease the pain?

MR: Oh, absolutely. I wrote in my journal – in fact, I ended up filling six journals during the year after my husband’s diagnosis and between his death – about everyday details. The things you might otherwise forget. I’d found Substack through George Saunders’ Story Club, from a random email that arrived in my inbox. That gave me the idea that I, too, could start a Substack. I sent out my first post in November, 2023, six months after I became a widow.

It was so rewarding. It gave me the idea that I could get through grief by writing about grief. And I found this to be true.