Every writer knows the amount of work that goes into a 100,000 word novel. The research, the plotting, the writing, the rewriting, the editing, the proofing, the cover design and more. All add up to many hundreds of hours before your story, that tale that started life in your head, becomes a reality and hits the electronic/physical book shops. Then comes the miracle of readers discovering what was in your head and even more miraculously, loving it. It’s all good. Your story is out there, and readers are reading it. Job done. On to the next.
But there are of course those readers who can’t discover your story. Those who speak a different language to yours, who read in it. They remain out of your reach as a writer.
So as a writer, the only way to bridge that gap is to have your novels published in translation. Happily for me, I got that very opportunity in January 2016, when the first novel in my medieval thriller Fifth Knight series, was published in Germany as Der fünfte Ritter. Even better, Der fünfte Ritter was published by Amazon Crossing, who are currently a global success story in translated genre fiction. Sir Benedict Palmer's first outing in German hit the Bild bestseller list. Now book two in the series, The Blood of the Fifth Knight, sees its release today as Das Blut des fünften Ritters.
Amazon Crossing invited me to Frankfurt Book Fair last month to talk about my experience in having my books translated. It was interesting that many of the questions I received at Frankfurt from German authors were exactly the same as those I received from those here in the UK. I thought I’d share the most common.
‘You’re having a book translated? How do you trust someone with your novel?’
I have to admit that this one surprised me the first time I was asked it. But as I get asked it more and more, it’s clearly something that bothers authors. It’s worth mentioning that we authors are very well known for our control freakery. Manuscripts often have to be prised from our cold, dead hands before we allow them to go through the editorial process. Part of the fear with translation is that we have very little control over what happens. We have to allow a professional translator to do their amazing job- but we have no way of checking up on them. I suspect that many scribes are coming out in hives even at the thought. But that’s the deal. If you want your work to be translated (and like me, don’t speak a word of the translated language) then you’re going to have to trust the translator.
My Amazon Crossing translator for both books has been the very wonderful Oliver Hoffmann. The perceptive amongst you will wonder how I know he’s wonderful. Aside from his consulting with me on my exact meaning from time to time, the answer lies in the reviews. I have had many great ones but also a few negative ones (yes, astonishingly: they do exist), which I’ve accessed via the wobbly Google Translate. I’m very pleased to report that those negative reviews were from readers who didn’t like my book. And here’s the thing: none of them cited poor translation.
With translated books, clunky translation almost always gets a mention and it puts other readers off. It also leads to lower ratings. So for those who may be going down the Indie route and are considering hiring a translator, consider it as just as an important investment as you did when you hired an editor, cover designer etc. A good translator is another professional who is going to help you put the best book out there.
‘Do you have the same covers as the English version?’
Short answer, no. Amazon Crossing produced their own covers for the German Editions. They know their market and what is likely to appeal. Asking which I prefer is too much of a Favourite Child question. But there is no doubt that the guy who has found his way onto Der fünfte Ritter is a big hit. Funnily enough, no one mentions language when they comment on him. Even my sister (otherwise known as The World’s Toughest Sell) refers to him as Mr. Broody.
One thing about cover design that is common to both Amazon Crossing in Germany and Amazon Publishing’s Thomas & Mercer in the UK is how much they consult on cover design. I do feel ever so slightly sorry for them when they send me a very eye-catching draft and I tell them that the sword has a flat pommel (the bobble on the end of the sword) where it should be round, or a shield that would be better used for jousting and could I please have a Norman kite shield instead. I always send them pictures of what I mean. To their credit, they pull out all the stops and said shields and swords are found. I’m only guessing, but I’ll bet at times they’re really dreading my emails. Pommelgate, anyone?
‘Do you feel frustrated that you can’t read your own book now that it’s in another language? I know I would!’
To a very minor extent. But, for me, a translated book of mine is no longer mine alone. The translator now tells my story, too, so it can’t be 100% me anymore. Oliver Hoffmann's name is on the cover along with mine, which is exactly how it should be. Translation is not just the swapping of language for another. It's a creative process in its own right. Done well, it captures the nuances and colour and tone of the original. Translation is a collaboration that means my words are brought to a whole new audience.
We historical fiction authors pride ourselves on being able to bridge time. Thanks to translation, we can cross borders, too. And that’s a rather wonderful thing.
But there are of course those readers who can’t discover your story. Those who speak a different language to yours, who read in it. They remain out of your reach as a writer.
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| Age-old problem: this fox doesn't speak Goose. Or Hen. |
Amazon Crossing invited me to Frankfurt Book Fair last month to talk about my experience in having my books translated. It was interesting that many of the questions I received at Frankfurt from German authors were exactly the same as those I received from those here in the UK. I thought I’d share the most common.
‘You’re having a book translated? How do you trust someone with your novel?’
I have to admit that this one surprised me the first time I was asked it. But as I get asked it more and more, it’s clearly something that bothers authors. It’s worth mentioning that we authors are very well known for our control freakery. Manuscripts often have to be prised from our cold, dead hands before we allow them to go through the editorial process. Part of the fear with translation is that we have very little control over what happens. We have to allow a professional translator to do their amazing job- but we have no way of checking up on them. I suspect that many scribes are coming out in hives even at the thought. But that’s the deal. If you want your work to be translated (and like me, don’t speak a word of the translated language) then you’re going to have to trust the translator.
 |
| Me at Frankfurt-where (thankfully!) my lovely audience were fine with me speaking in English. |
With translated books, clunky translation almost always gets a mention and it puts other readers off. It also leads to lower ratings. So for those who may be going down the Indie route and are considering hiring a translator, consider it as just as an important investment as you did when you hired an editor, cover designer etc. A good translator is another professional who is going to help you put the best book out there.
‘Do you have the same covers as the English version?’
Short answer, no. Amazon Crossing produced their own covers for the German Editions. They know their market and what is likely to appeal. Asking which I prefer is too much of a Favourite Child question. But there is no doubt that the guy who has found his way onto Der fünfte Ritter is a big hit. Funnily enough, no one mentions language when they comment on him. Even my sister (otherwise known as The World’s Toughest Sell) refers to him as Mr. Broody.
 |
| Book Covers as seats at the Amazon stand- cool! |
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| My book as a seat- even cooler! |
‘Do you feel frustrated that you can’t read your own book now that it’s in another language? I know I would!’
To a very minor extent. But, for me, a translated book of mine is no longer mine alone. The translator now tells my story, too, so it can’t be 100% me anymore. Oliver Hoffmann's name is on the cover along with mine, which is exactly how it should be. Translation is not just the swapping of language for another. It's a creative process in its own right. Done well, it captures the nuances and colour and tone of the original. Translation is a collaboration that means my words are brought to a whole new audience.
We historical fiction authors pride ourselves on being able to bridge time. Thanks to translation, we can cross borders, too. And that’s a rather wonderful thing.
