Sue Harper’s Winter in the City of Light: A Search for Self in Retirement (self-published, 2019, class of 2016) is about exactly what the title suggests. After years of teaching, the author and her partner retired. A talented artist, her partner knew exactly who she would be in retirement. Harper wasn’t quite so sure. 

Within a few years of retiring, they went on an adventure: a winter in Paris, where Harper’s partner attended an art course at the Sorbonne. Harper imagined that, during the days when her partner was at school, she would explore the most exciting city in the world, waiting for inspiration to strike, and then withdraw to the small apartment they’d rented and churn out book manuscripts.

It didn’t work out that way. On her own all day in a strange city, Harper had to face her fears, not only about going out on her own to explore the city, but about whether the author she’d thought was inside her was struggling as hard to get out as she’d always thought. About midway through the book, Harper writes: 

When we retire, we have lots of time to doubt ourselves. While the imposter phenomenon is destructive, it’s also difficult to overcome because no one talks about it. One of the researchers who labelled this phenomenon, psychologist Dr. Suzanne Imes, says little can be done to change the imposter’s feelings about herself. She is convinced she’s the only one who feels this way and fears that if she told anyone else she was a phoney “she would meet with criticism or at least very little understanding on the part of others.” …

It’s funny. I never felt fraudulent when I was writing textbooks, teaching, or helping other teachers, even when I earned promotions at work. My doubt seems strongest when I go to school. I’ve tried to pinpoint the reason for this. Was it because I always compared myself to my brother, who scored in the ninety-ninth percentile on the university entrance exams? Or maybe I couldn’t forget my father’s comment when I showed him my 88% in music: “What happened to the other 12%?”

Ouch. 

The point is that retirement is something we do in the winter of life, but we can never forget that winter can also be a turning point in a journey back to light. And ultimately that’s what Harper’s time in Paris became. Overcoming her imposter syndrome enough to complete the Master of Fine Arts program in Creative Nonfiction Writing at University of King’s College in Halifax, she also completed a book manuscript describing her own journey. 

Full disclosure: I met Harper through the University of King’s College MFA in Creative Nonfiction program and later copy edited her manuscript. I haven’t quite made it to retirement myself, but it’s likely when I get there I’ll go back and read it again to help myself face my fears and make my winter a time of new beginnings, as she did. 

Other books about journeys to self-discovery:

Run, Hide, Repeat: Memoir of a Fugitive Childhood, by Pauline Dakin.

The View from Coffin Ridge: A Childhood Exhumed, by Gwen Lamont.

Every Boy I Ever Kissed: A Memoir, by Nellwyn Lampert.

Heartbroken: Field Notes on a Constant Condition, Laura Pratt.

I Don’t Do Disability: And Other Lies I’ve Told Myself, by Adelle Purdham.

Louisburg or Bust: A Surfer’s Wild Ride Down Nova Scotia’s Drowned Coast, by RC Scott.

The Minister’s Wife: A Memoir of Faith, Doubt, Friendship, Loneliness, Forgiveness, and More, by Karen Stiller.