Photo by Tonya Bolton
Denise Derya Brandt is the author of the new novel Istanbul Dreaming. She spent more than two decades working in international development, and she lives in Kentucky.
Q: How much did your parents’ experiences inspire you to write Istanbul Dreaming?
A: Quite a bit! I always knew I wanted to write something inspired by my Turkish mother and American father. I was interested in how two people from different cultures and countries found each other, fell in love, and stayed married for more than 50 years. Unfortunately, I lost my father in 2010 and my mother in 2016.
Then in 2021, when I was visiting my relatives in Turkey, I discovered a photograph of my mother in a wedding dress, standing next to a man who was not my father. She looked young and terrified. After some convincing, my aunt revealed that her father had forced my mother into an arranged marriage, which she eventually fled from.
This wasn’t a complete surprise. My mother had always told me that she had run away to Istanbul because her father tried to arrange her marriage to a man she viewed more as a brother than a husband. But that photo was evidence she hadn’t run away prior to the marriage after all.
That photograph and the questions that followed became the inspiration for Istanbul Dreaming.
Q: What did you see as the right balance between fiction and history as you wrote the book?
A: Initially I struggled because I felt beholden to the facts as I knew them from my parents. I was trying to adhere to the events and dates I knew to be true, whether they made for a good story or not.
Then someone in my writing group reminded me that I’m writing fiction, not biography, and I can make things up! She was right, of course, and this gave me the permission I needed to let go of my parents’ literal story and instead write this fictional story inspired by them.
With the exception of Ayten’s and Earl’s first names, my character names are fictional with personalities drawn from composites of people I know. In some cases, I had a photograph of a person and imagined who they might have been. I kept the broad arc of some true events while inventing most other events, dialogue, and interiority.
In the end, I hope I struck the right balance between fact and fiction, one that allows the reader to be transported to 1950s Turkey.
Q: How did you research the novel, and did you learn anything that especially surprised you?
A: Even though I fictionalized my parents’ story, I still wanted to include the authentic, historical details that bring historical fiction alive, so I conducted a lot of research.
I tried to include relevant details I knew about my parents’ lives and about other historical people and events, such as the Bursa fire, Buddy Holly’s and President Menderes’ airplane crashes, and real economic and political struggles of the time, including student protests and Turkey’s first military coup in 1960.
One valuable source of information was The New York Times archives, where I read 1950s news about Turkey and the US, and saw advertisements and prices that I was able to integrate into the story.
I did learn a few things from my research that surprised me. For example, the Bosphorus Bridge, the first bridge to connect Europe and Asia, did not exist until 1973. When I realized that, I had to do a bit of rewriting! Also, from a New York Times article, I learned about the devastating fire in Bursa in 1958, so I decided to reference that in the story.
My father once told me that the rent for my parents’ first apartment in Istanbul was two cans of instant Folgers coffee. From reading news articles about Turkey, I learned there was a coffee shortage at that time; the landlord’s desire for coffee rather than cash suddenly made sense!
But perhaps the most surprising thing I learned was there are striking parallels between the Adnan Menderes era (1950 – 1960) and the Erdoğan era in Türkiye, with both leaders promoting populist ideas and supporting religious conservatism in opposition to secularist or Kemalist movements.
Understanding the present helped me imagine what it must have felt like to live through the Menderes years. It’s interesting how history has a way of repeating itself or at least leaving echoes.
Q: What do you hope readers take away from the book?
A: More than anything, I hope readers walk away deeply moved by Ayten’s courage and feeling like they’ve been transported to 1950s Turkey.
I wanted to write a story about the cost and necessity of claiming a life for yourself, especially amid the pressures women caught between tradition and modernity faced then and still face now. I hope Istanbul Dreaming prompts readers to reflect on the sacrifices we make or don’t for the lives we truly want.
I also wanted the love story with Earl to matter but not be Ayten’s prize. Her prize is her confidence, her self-worth, and her determination, and I hope readers feel the difference.
Beyond respect for Ayten’s personal journey, I hope readers come away with a deeper appreciation for Turkish history and culture and feeling inspired to visit and learn more. If they close the book feeling hopeful, curious, and genuinely challenged, I’ve done my job.
Q: What are you working on now?
A: As I prepare to launch my debut novel into the world, I’m finding it difficult to focus on a new, long-form project, and that’s okay. For now, I’m writing personal essays, journaling, and focusing on the work of bringing Istanbul Dreaming to readers.
But I have a few ideas I’ve been turning over: two that share the same spirit and tone as this novel, one that pulls me toward memoir, and one that centers around a dog (my palate cleanser project). I haven’t fallen in love with one yet, but the right story has a way of making itself impossible to ignore, so I’m staying open and showing up until that happens.
Q: Anything else we should know?
A: I spent more than 20 years working in international development, leading lifesaving women’s health projects in Afghanistan, Liberia, and Myanmar (with shorter stints in other interesting places), before I sat down to write this novel.
The transition from leading teams and multi-million-dollar projects to sitting alone at a desk, learning the craft of fiction, was humbling in ways I hadn’t anticipated. But it taught me something about the courage it takes to begin again, which, I realize, is exactly what Ayten does.
When USAID was dismantled in early 2025 and my contract was terminated, I didn’t polish my CV; I reached for my manuscript. Sometimes the path forward only becomes clear when the old one closes. I’m still in the middle of this new chapter, but I’m moving toward it with commitment and intention, just now at a treadmill desk instead of around the world.
--Interview with Deborah Kalb
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