Congratulations to Deniz - phdinprogress - for having their following short story chosen for publication on Blank Canvas Post. The short story that follows is a truly wonderful exploration of a woman’s sense of self amidst patriarchy. Please read the follow conversation between us at Blank Canvas Post and Deniz - phdinprogress - to understand more about the writer and the context for this brilliant short story.
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Writer Spotlight: Deniz
Originally from Turkey, Deniz - phdinprogress - has been writing for almost thirteen years now, mostly writing to their self, and just recently having gathered the courage to share their writing.
What was it that made you start writing?
To this day, I still have a fear of speaking in public, but I have always had so much to say. My high school literature teacher started a writers’ club and recruited me, and we began publishing regularly throughout high school. The relief I felt when I could finally express my thoughts through writing was too powerful not to pursue.
What experiences have you had that have shaped the writer you are today?
I grew up in a divorced household with many siblings, which made me a more introverted person. Trying to speak up, making my thoughts count, and struggling to have my voice heard have always been major challenges for me.
Another influence is the world we are currently living in and the challenges women face every day. Experiencing those challenges myself as a grown woman has often made me so angry that writing became the way I channel and release that frustration.
What genres are you writing at the moment? What genres do you enjoy writing?
Literary short stories, reflective essays, and inner monologue–driven pieces exploring identity, freedom, and womanhood.
What inspires you to write? Where do you take your inspiration from?
My mother, she has been the source of my inspiration.
What does your writing process look like (e.g., environment, tools, setting)?
My writing usually begins with a thought or a feeling that stays with me throughout the day. I tend to write late in the evening when things are quiet. I usually sit somewhere dimly lit with music in the background(music is essential to my writings) and start writing in fragments—often as inner monologues or scenes that capture a specific emotional moment. I draft everything digitally and then revisit the text later to refine the language and rhythm.
What do you envisage when you are writing something new?
I have two sets of writing: one that I write mostly for myself, and another that I write with the intention of sharing. I want my writing to reach people because I believe none of us are truly alone. I know that others have felt the same things I have felt, and I want my words to find them so that no one feels abandoned, lost, or like an outsider. I have also noticed that the more you share, the more others begin to share as well. Reading people’s experiences, each shaped by their own unique perspective, has been incredibly exhilarating and inspiring.
Why do you think community is important for writers and creative people?
Writing is a very intimate and vulnerable process that is often deeply individualised. Community makes this process less lonely. It allows you to share and to learn from others to a point where that sense of isolation begins to fade. Many people, in their lives, jobs, or households, carry a quiet feeling of being alone or under-appreciated. They pour their hearts onto a blank canvas in one way or another; community makes sure that someone is there to listen and that those voices are heard.
Where do you currently share you work?
At the moment only on Substack but looking to expand.
Why did you submit your work to Blank Canvas Post? What drew you to our publication?
What I appreciate about BLANK CANVAS POST is the space it creates for honest, vulnerable writing. It feels like a place where different voices and experiences can coexist without needing to fit into a rigid structure.
About the Short Story: Freedom At Last
Regarding Freedom At Last, what inspired you to write this piece?
All of the guidelines drawn around being a woman and the urge to break free. All of the labels given to us by society and all the things a woman “should or shouldn’t do”. It has been exhausting, and I know for a fact that this is the case for most woman. All around the world people keep adding items to the guideline of “how to be a woman” and the more they oppress the more I want to break free.
What is the context for this piece? What is the main feeling or message behind it?
All of these guidelines revolve around being a woman and the urge to break free from the expectations placed on us. There are so many labels given to us by society, and endless rules about what a woman “should” or “shouldn’t” do. It can be exhausting, and I know for a fact that many women feel the same way. Around the world, people keep adding new items to this unwritten guideline of “how to be a woman,” and the more those expectations try to confine us, the stronger my urge becomes to break free from them.
What was the process of writing this piece like for you? What did this process look like?
Honestly, I was angry while writing this piece. I could feel the anger almost oozing out of me. Everything I saw in the news, and everything that the people around me and I were going through, created a kind of tipping point. I remember that morning very clearly. I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror, and felt this urge to rip off all the labels placed on me. My mind started imagining what it would actually feel like to exist without them—to just be naked, without expectations or burdens. I put on some music, made a coffee, and sat down to write. I felt almost as if I was on a mission.
Why did you choose to submit this piece specifically to Blank Canvas Post?
That brings me back to the importance of community. Blank Canvas Post provides such a beautiful community—an environment where people are real and the writing is honest. Being part of a space like this is what makes writing and sharing so exciting.
So, without further ado, here is Freedom At Last, a short story by Denis - phdinprogress.
Freedom At Last, by Deniz.
She entered the house hoping to escape the entire universe. She removed her jacket first. Her clothes were still on her, just as her smile, her make-up, her watery eyes. The next step was her high heels; she threw them hastily. She went into the bathroom, and while she was observing herself, her smile would not fade away, yet her eyes kept getting full with tears that would not fall down. She took a cotton pad and swiped her whole face; she looked like a clown with the biggest smile on her face.
She finally escaped from the skirt that made her look approachable but not slutty. The smile persisted. She unbuttoned the shirt that made her waist stand out, just in case anybody would miss her feminine physique. The tears were still not falling. She removed the pantyhose from her smoothly shaved legs. There she was, just with her underwear and her smile, but she was just getting started.
She put the promotion she got passed on because she was “too emotional” in the laundry basket. She threw being a failing woman because she didn’t want kids in the trash, thinking maybe she wouldn’t need to wear that again. She wore down gently the lack of understanding she had for her cheating boyfriend, and together with that she managed to remove the fact that “she made him do it” too.
There were still so many things on her she was almost hunching because of the weight. She needed to dig deeper. She removed the night where she got slapped on the ass because she was “wearing low-rise jeans and asking for it” with a lot of struggle. It was almost clenched to her bones. After feeling a big weight lifted off, there was no stopping her.
She tore down the stupidity, her laughter that was just too loud, and her snarky comments that just made her “antipathic” rather quickly. The next steps were almost engraved into her soul, so they were more tricky. She had to attack her fault for “walking down the street at that time of the day,” and that was a bloody one. Why was she even drinking that night? For a split second she was going to get encapsulated by that, but she fought hard and detached that too.
She was knee-deep in everything she had to remove. She was bleeding, and she just kept going. She was getting tired, so she gently nudged away all the times she had to cook and clean and serve, along with failing people because sometimes she didn’t cook and clean and serve. She almost had to cut out the irresponsibility of being single in her thirties and the disappointment she became to her parents.
Still smiling, tears hanging, red lipstick smudged against her cheek. When she finally wore down being too quiet, too loud, too feminine, too manly, too emotional, too distracting, too obvious, too rebellious, along with the lack of respect she “must have had” for the role she was given, it was time to attack the smile.
That smile that everybody made her put on, as if without it she would not be able to function, and without it she would just be too real. Almost a real person with emotions. She yanked and tore it down and attacked harder, all the times she was told not to cry because it would make other people uncomfortable.
Finally, one tear down, a lifetime worth to go. Second tear down, her lips were trembling. Yes, it was happening. The smile was fading. Her muscles were so tired, and her cheeks were finally wet. She sat down with her bruised soul and naked self.
She was not what a woman was supposed to be at that moment; she was herself. She was just a human. And she thought desperately, among all of her thoughts, “Am I going to be able to not put them back on?” Because even if she left the house naked, everyone else was going to clothe her.
Her fight was just starting and she was bleeding, but it was okay.
She was free.
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