a culture of language and thought

As you might have noticed, my website has undergone some very slight changes… Or perhaps I should really call them updates. Because of my RSI (Repetitive Strain Injury), I had let things slide. A book I translated came out last fall (Everything Under the Sky), but I never managed to send out an announcement, update my site, or otherwise promote it. I hadn’t blogged for months. And although I get great comments about my site from those who visit, it is getting a little long in the tooth and I wanted to freshen it up.

I thus started to plan my new website look and content. It’s incredible how long this takes, how much work it is, and, frankly, I found that I can’t do it all on my own. I’m pretty tech savvy but when it comes to some things, I know I need help. Thankfully, I can rely on my partner, Jon, a true tecchie, to lend a hand. So… keep checking back as one day in the near future you’ll log on and be amazed at we’ve done.

In order to see what innovations were out there, I started to search other translator and writer’s sites and blogs. I wandered down a path that led from one to another, to another, reading, enjoying the content, getting tons of ideas, and then became so overwhelmed with all there was to do that I decided to procrastinate a little by writing this post.

Here are three of my favorites; I hope you’ll enjoy them, too:

Madam Mayo – A blog by C.M. Mayo, a writer and translator, that features her work and guest blogs

The Urban Muse – A blog by Susan Johnston, a freelance writer, with incredible blogging tips

Thoughts on Translation – A blog by Corinne McKay, a translator, offering great advice regarding the industry

It used to be I would have to get up in the morning and immediately sit down at my desk to begin work. If I went out or did anything else first, it was as if the whole day would slip away on me and literally nothing would get accomplished. This may have something to do with my upbringing… My dad, a five o’clock riser, always said there was no point starting anything after noon as the day was half over.

Much of the freedom I enjoyed working for myself was therefore negated. Sure, I could work for several hours then meet a friend for lunch, say, but that still meant the rest of my work day was effectively worthless. I would do a little of this or that, but feel essentially ineffectual.

Similarly, if I was working on a literary translation, I would have to dedicate the entire day to it. It required such focus and concentration, “getting into it,” that I never wanted to sully my thoughts by working on anything else.

Then I got RSI and was forced to change my entire method and approach to work. Gone were the days of sitting down at the computer in the morning and not getting up from it until evening. After over a year, I’m still not at full capacity, and even if I was I will never again work that way. Frequent breaks are the only way the tendons in my arms and hands will heal, and later prevent re-injury. I have had to learn to take it easy in the morning if they are swollen, perhaps not sitting down at the computer to get deep into work until midmorning. I often start my day with Tai Chi as I know I will come home with pain-free arms and an abundance of energy that will allow me to be productive for the rest of the day.

When I do start translating, I know that to accomplish all I need to, I will have to switch from trademarks, to the novel, to updating my website, on to something else or perhaps back to the beginning again (all interrupted by computer breaks: trips to the living room to listen to the news, out on the balcony to water the plants or catch a moment of sun, a snack and a stretch). I’ve discovered that my brain isn’t nearly as rigid, as unable to change modes, as I thought it was. Allowing myself this flexible schedule means I can take advantage of the freedom this career affords me, and I’m immensely appreciative.

Plus, it’s encouraging to know that an old dog *can* learn new tricks.

It was April 1 of last year, about eleven o’clock at night, when I sat back down at my desk after dinner and a show with my partner Jon to make a few notes about things I needed to do the following day. Ping! As I picked up a pen, something in the middle finger on my right hand snapped, like a frayed elastic band, and I uttered “Ouch!” I jotted down my list, the knuckle on that finger smarting, and headed off to bed.

The next morning I woke up with it swollen to three times its size, unable to move let alone bend it, and in a considerable amount of pain. I headed to a walk-in clinic, had X-rays taken, and was told to simply rest it and come back in a week if it wasn’t any better. With a mere four weeks left to go on an incredibly difficult, rush translation of a book of non-fiction, I panicked and forged ahead, working through the pain.

That was the start to what has now been a thirteen month journey into learning about, understanding, and dealing with Repetitive Strain Injury. Not fun, to say the least. I finally feel like I am on the mend after cutting back on work last fall, taking November and December off entirely, and only slowly ramping up since January.

The start of the calendar year came and went, and still in agony nearly every single day, I spent only the absolute minimum of time on the computer. My usual new year tasks – such as updating my website, searching out prospective new clients, planning my business strategy for the coming year – simply never happened.

But given the economic downturn, which has affected my business more than I thought (or perhaps hoped) it would, I have the time and I am starting to have the energy to undertake some of these vital tasks. May has thus becoming the start of my “new year”.

I’m too afraid that RSI is only taking a brief reprieve to make any promises about updating this blog, but if you’ve signed up for the RSS feed and have been surprised to hear from me again, post a comment to let me know you’re out there. That will certainly encourage me to write as often as I’m able.

Hope to hear from you!

When I’m in the middle of translating a book, every cell of my brain is completely consumed by it. It’s hard for me to focus on anything else because I’m so immersed in the story, the characters, the words, the feeling… I choose each word with incredible care and approach each translation problem with pages of notes, setting out my options, keeping track of the research I’ve done, weighing out the respective benefits of each possible choice that could be made, and eventually my reason for deciding to translate something in a particular way.

When I’m finished the entire translation, it usually takes days or weeks to really get my head back into other things. Slowly, all of the words and ideas from the book settle into a deeper layer in my brain. I feel as if they’ll always be there, though, not far away, ready to pull out whenever I need them. I’m finding that’s not the case, though…

My translation Turing’s Delirium, by Edmundo Paz Soldán, came out in 2006. Like most books I’ve translated, once the initial excitement of having the physical book in my hands had worn off, I set it proudly on the bookshelf in my living room and eventually turned to other projects. I never pick up the books I’ve translated – the desire to change just this little word here or that little phrase there is too much. There’s always something I think I could improve but once a book is in print, that’s no longer an option. I therefore find it best just to leave the book be and satisfy myself with gazing proudly at the spine, knowing I brought it to life in another language.

This year, however, Professor Paulo Horta at Simon Fraser University in Vancouver, Canada, has asked me to dredge up some of my memories about this particular translation and the translation process. He’s teaching a course on world literature and using Turing’s Delirium as one of the books. His students have now read it and passed on questions to both the author, Edmundo, and I. I’m thrilled to be included in this. Paulo is really making a point of examining the book “in translation” and he’s acknowledging my contribution by involving me in the discussion.

In this particular case, the book is very different in Spanish and in English: chapters were added, character motivations changed, aspects of characters modified. I was resistant to the changes at first but because Edmundo was fine with them, I slowly grew to accept the majority of them as well. (There are still a few I regret, though!)

In any event, Paulo’s students have asked some insightful questions and I would like to give equally insightful answers, but I’m finding that what I did or why I did what I did in the translation isn’t so easily accessible in what is evidently a much deeper layer in my brain than I’d thought. It seems the book I just finished in December is sitting on top of those memories, much more fresh in my mind. And the book I started working on a week ago is already taking up the majority of my thought and processing power.

Uh oh. I’d better go look for my notebook for Turing’s Delirium; looks like I’m going to need it…

I’ve been thinking about the concept of balance for quite a while now – and I do mean “concept” because it’s something I understand but is still somewhat ethereal, something I’ve never quite mastered. When I look back on my working life I’ve always juggled several things at once. The reasons for doing this have usually been different; I’m either working hard to save up for something (usually travel), or am forced to do so just to make ends meet, or because it’s simply the nature of the sort of work I do.

When I was younger, I worked at a law firm and also taught English, literacy and/or Spanish classes at the same time. At one point I even worked in a pet supply store on the weekends too! In Peru I owned a restaurant for a while, where I did the shopping at the market each day, cleaned the restaurant and bathroom, helped with food preparation, waited tables, and kept the books. I also taught at an English language academy, gave private classes, and did as many translations as came my way. A few years later, I owned a bar/café while working as a full-time, in-house translator, and took translations on the side. (Here again, owning that business meant taking part in every aspect of it: creating the atmosphere, buying supplies, doing the banking, bartending, serving customers until the wee hours of the morning, etc. etc., along with my business partner Lynda, a fellow Canadian and friend).

Last year, I had all the duties of running my own freelance business plus the actual work that I do in that business! Because the nature of freelance work is often feast or famine, when there’s a feast you simply dig in and take everything you’re offered, storing up for those times when famine arrives. I also have a hard time saying “no” to my favorite clients. They’re favorites for a reason: I  like the work I’m given, we’ve developed a good relationship, their deadlines are reasonable, pay is decent, and there’s a sense of reciprocal loyalty.

As well, part of being a successful freelancer is not to put all your eggs in one basket: you need to have as many clients as you can reasonably handle so that if one should take their business away for any reason, you won’t be left in the lurch.

Juggling all of this, however, can mean that you’re working seven days a week and up to sixteen hours a day. I love my work and identify with what I do, but it’s no way to LIVE for a prolonged period of time. Friendships and outside activities start to fall away and then when the famine, or even just a lean diet, comes along, I’m left floundering. I don’t know what to do without my work. For the moment I’m trying to enjoy my reduced calorie intake and keep in mind how good it feels not to be overwhelmed by the pressures of multiple deadlines, the stress of knowing I need to do my absolute best on each one to keep my clients happy and my pride in what I do. When the eventual glut begins, I’m going to need to take a breath, remember the concept of balance and find a way to pick and choose.

It’s January, so everyone’s talking about resolutions. My partner, Jon, and a group he belongs to chose to call them intentions and I kind of prefer this… Resolutions sound so, well, resolute and that approach doesn’t always work for me. When I inevitably fail to stick with one or more of the many “resolutions” I set for myself, I only feel bad and tend to wonder why I should bother trying to stick with the rest! So “intentions” it is…

Now that I’ve dissected the semantics of it, I suppose you’d like to hear some of my intentions. Well, that’s another thing I dislike… Once you speak them out loud to the world, you’re committed to following through. I’ve committed to writing this blog out loud on more than one occasion, and look what happened there! Six months went by without a single post. So rather than jinx my intentions, just stay tuned and I hope you’ll be pleased to see regular posts.

This year has started out with a much-deserved and appreciated reprieve from being overloaded with work. I’ve thus taken the time to update my site a little and write this post. On the top of the lefthand sidebar you’ll see a place where you can click to receive an RSS feed of this blog. That way, rather than having to check in every once in a while, you’ll be notified whenever a new post or comment is posted (two separate RSS, you can choose). I hope you’ll sign up!

I got together last night with six other translators for a “Phil Stratford Dinner” in Ottawa. Stratford was one of the driving forces behind organizing the Literary Translators’ Association of Canada, and at times various groups across the country will get together for a bite to eat, to talk about our craft, and read from a piece we’re working on. It was a lovely evening, a great opportunity to share with people who truly understand what it is that I do, who know how difficult yet rewarding it can be, who I can proudly share some of my work with and know it will be appreciated on some level even if they don’t know the particular langauge I work in. It’s a very validating experience, as well as just being a wonderful evening of food and conversation.

I’m also getting ready to go to the LTAC yearly seminar and AGM, this year in Banff. It’s being held at the Banff International Literary Translation Centre and I’m so excited to see what that is all about. It’s a dream of mine to apply for and get a residency, where I would be able to work solely on a piece of literary translation for a couple of weeks in the company of other translators and often the authors they work with. This conference is going to be a taste of that, as we will be interacting with the translators and writers in residence, and I just know it’s going to be an inspiring experience.

It’s a particularly good time for me to be motivated about literary translation because, just a week ago, a contract I’d been vying and hoping for came through! I’ll be translating Matilde Asensi’s historical thriller, Todo bajo el cielo for HarperCollins in the US. It’s currently a bestseller in Europe and I’m over the moon about this opportunity. These days I’m even more passionate about this side of my work and anxious to start each day… There’s nothing in the world like loving what you do!

I just received the loveliest message from a colleague, Micheline, who took the time to read through the whole blog, then write to me with her thoughts and thanks. Here is some of what she said:

“So interesting, inspiring, full of meaningful ideas, feelings and details, a true narrative of day-to-day reality as a freelance writer/translator… gifted, meticulous and prompts one to question oneself – I can only lament the fact that clients rarely realize and appreciate the time, effort and multi-faceted gifts you offer them and devote to their assignments… (can’t help thinking to myself: what a waste – some of the time -…!) [...] Still, I wanted to drop you a line, just let you know that you probably have many solitary readers/colleagues who’re comforted and cheered by your column but somehow don’t have the time or energy to thank you for it.”

When I started the blog it really was to reach out to colleagues and try to form some sort of an online community, but that hasn’t entirely resulted. I was hoping to see more comments, get more feedback, create more two-way dialogue. But still, notes like these, knowing that someone out there somewhere has benefitted in whatever way from what I have written, plus the simple satisfaction I derive from dashing off a few words, taking what is swimming around in my head and making it clear “on paper”, has been enough reward.

I do wonder, though, how an online community is built, nourished and sustained. Sites like Facebook have revolutionized the way we interact, but I wonder if that has more to do with the people who are interested in that type of site than the medium itself. But then that thought is contradicted by this one: the American Translator’s Association Language Technology Division has a website with an RSS Feed and a listserv, but both are rarely used – surprising to me because membership is comprised of techies, after all, who are used to online media.

I have been thinking about an article regarding writing/blogging/online communities for some time now, and Micheline’s message just set me off on a tangent that led me back to wanting to post here and get that article underway. Thank you for that, Micheline!

I seem to be in a bit of a work lull, for the first time this year. It’s quite nice, actually, giving me time to work on some of my volunteer efforts, back the computer up, defrag it, finish a book review, make sure my Q1 receipts are in order… It’s quite amazing to me that even without paid translation work, I can fill an entire day, days even, with other work things that need to be done. And people think that the self-employed have it so easy, lazing about all the time, working “when they want to”! Ah, if only… (Although, that being said, I did take last Monday off just because it was beautiful out and the green fees are cheaper on weekdays!)

I am feeling slightly more than peeved, however, that one task that should have taken me a couple of hours at most took me almost an entire day yesterday and may take that long again today! I hardly ever come across them, mostly because I’m working with client documents that aren’t that complex, but if you try to do a fairly complex layout in Word – watch out! It is filled with bugs and sometimes there just doesn’t seem to be a workaround. I have the distinct advantage that I live with a software programmer and Jon can thankfully usually tell me within a short while whether the weirdness I’ve come across is because of something I’ve done, if there’s a better way to do it, or what I’m going to have to do to get around the problem. But it is so incredibly frustrating to spend a day working and not get ahead. Wish me better luck today!

There has been some discussion lately on the LTAC listserv (do join if you’re a member…) about rates for literary translation, the issues of copyright and royalties. It’s a worrying situation, really, and I’m wondering how and when it might ever change.

I have only published literary translations with US publishers thus far, and so have never been eligible for any of the Canada Council’s grants. In fact, even if I did publish in Canada, I would not be eligible for these because the authors I work with aren’t Canadian and that is a stipulation. I could get into a rather long rant about that matter (ie. the fact that I, the translator, am Canadian and that doesn’t count…) but will leave that for another time. In any event, the Canada Council pays decent rates ($0.14/word for prose) but I don’t think anything I’ve earned from US publishers matches that.

Copyright is almost never offered by a publisher, but it in my experience all I’ve had to do was ask for it and it was given to me in the contract. There were no arguments and I was thankful. Royalties, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter. On the first book I published, I didn’t dare even ask for royalties. I was completely ignorant about what price to charge, as well, and picked a number basically out of a hat. The publisher said that was too much and asked if I could do it for their budget. I did. On the second novel (same author, same publisher), I increased my contract fee and it was accepted without question. I asked for royalties and was flatly turned down. I insisted but got nowhere. The editor made it sound like the author wouldn’t accept my receiving royalties because that would decrease his percentage. I think I brought it up with the author, but didn’t want to rock the boat and simply let the issue drop.

There is the possibility that I will have another couple of contracts coming up this year (fingers crossed and double-crossed). I’m at a point in my literary translation career where I want to insist on royalties, but haven’t quite decided how far I am willing to push. I heard a man at an ATA conference say that he simply refused any contracts that didn’t include royalties. Well, in my case that would have meant I’d never have been published at all thus far! So I don’t want to be quite that extreme. But, more than the money, I want publishers to acknowledge that my work contributes to how well a book will sell, and I therefore deserve part of the profits. I believe it will be a miniscule amount, at least to start, and I’m OK with that. I just want to be recognized. I wonder if I’ll win the battle?