Standing at the Threshold
Letter from the Editor as published in the September 2025 issue
In 2016, when I started Blank Spaces from my home in rural Ontario, I had no idea what nine years would look like, or if we’d even make it past year one. Most independent magazines don’t. The statistics are sobering—passionate projects launched with hope often close their doors within twelve months, crushed by the weight of logistics, funding, and the sheer stubbornness required to keep going.
But here we are, officially entering our tenth year of publication, standing at a threshold I never dared imagine we’d reach. Because who was I? I had no business starting a magazine. All I had was hope and a vision.
Nine years ago, in my first letter from the editor, I wrote that “Canadians are hungry for content that reflects who we are and what we stand for.” That hunger hasn’t diminished—if anything, it’s grown stronger in the light of the current political climate, and so has our commitment to feeding it with authentic voices from every corner of this country.
Thresholds are powerful spaces. They’re where we pause between what was and what could be, where we take stock and gather courage for what comes next. As I prepared this ninth anniversary issue, I couldn’t help but notice how many of our contributors are writing from their own thresholds—writers taking creative risks, artists finding new directions, people beginning again in unexpected places.
That feels exactly right. Blank Spaces has always been about threshold moments—that space where someone decides to submit their work for the first time, where a reader discovers a piece that changes how they see the world, where a community of creators finds they’re not alone in their pursuit of authentic expression.
We’ve survived these nine years because of you. Writers from coast to coast kept trusting us with their most vulnerable work. Readers kept subscribing, sharing issues, and showing up in big and small ways. You believe that Canadian voices—from small towns, prairie fields, Maritime coasts, northern communities—deserve platforms and audiences just as much as those from major centres.
Your support has been everything. Canada continues to be rich with untold stories, and our role has always been to amplify those voices without asking them to change who they are or where they come from. We celebrate that rawness, that authenticity that comes from real places and real experiences.
Now, as we cross into our tenth year, I’m thinking about reach—not changing who we are, but expanding where our voices can be heard. My team is gathering for our first-ever in-person retreat this September to envision what that could look like. We’re asking ourselves: What if we could bring our grassroots energy directly to your community? What if you could discover us on bookstore shelves across the country? What if we became a bridge between Canada’s literary centres and the incredible talent thriving in places others overlook?
We can only explore these possibilities if we grow together—staying true to our small-town roots while extending our reach. Which is why I’m asking: What do you want from Blank Spaces in the future? How can we serve your community better while keeping the authentic, accessible spirit that’s always defined us?
Send us your ideas. Dream with us. Help us understand how we can amplify more voices without losing what makes us uniquely us.
The threshold we’re standing on feels full of possibility, but we can only step across it together.
Thank you for nine incredible years. Let’s make the tenth our strongest yet.
Alanna Rusnak
Editor in Chief, Blank Spaces
