In the shadow of full-scale war, the Ukrainian literary industry has undergone a radical metamorphosis. Independent publishers and local cultural initiatives have become one of the key spaces where the future of Ukrainian literature is being shaped — not despite the war, but in defiance of it.
This reflective essay by writer, literary scholar, and editor Liubov Baz is part of a collection called ‘A resilient literary ecosystem in times of war: strategies and individual experiences’, which was produced by the Ukrainian Hub for the International Literature Exchange 2025/26.
The full-scale war has radically transformed the conditions in which the Ukrainian literary industry exists. What was previously perceived as instability or marginality—small print runs, independent publishers, horizontal initiatives—has, in wartime, revealed itself as a form of resilience. Local cultural projects have become not only tools of survival, but also spaces of ethical choice, cultural diversity, and a profound rethinking of the role of literature in society.
Independent publishers in Ukraine often function not as classical market-driven institutions, but as community-based hubs. They combine editorial, curatorial, educational, archival, and at times even psychological functions. During the war, this means working with traumatic experience, memory, testimony, and with voices that rarely enter the focus of large publishing houses: women, military personnel and civilians, internally displaced people, authors from regions, and members of marginalized communities.
Poetry has gained particular personal and cultural significance—not only combatant poetry, but also poetry that reflects on war and its social and political consequences. It often functions as a form of “art therapy,” yet can grow into something far greater: a space of revelation, discovery, and creative observation, capable of expanding perception and empathy, especially toward others. It is primarily small publishers who take on the task of publishing poetry, as well as short prose and works by lesser-known authors—who, in Ukraine, constitute the majority.
With the onset of the full-scale invasion, people began to feel the passage of time more acutely than ever before, aware that each day might be the last. Many relatively unknown authors felt an urgent need to leave something behind—to fulfill their creative calling, to share their perspective. Art, perhaps, is the only medium that allows this to be done fully. It is precisely the unique perspective of each author that gives their works genuine singularity.
This dynamic is not limited to poetry or short prose. Since the beginning of the invasion, an increasing number of authors working with longer prose have turned, for example, to Ukrainian Literary Agency OVO, seeking the possibility to share their perspective and see their work published. After receiving professional feedback, authors can revise their manuscripts in the hope that these texts will eventually be taken up by larger publishing houses.
The situation with poetry and short prose—especially collective or multi-author works—is considerably more difficult. While there are grants supporting Ukrainian authors, such as the Presidential Grant for Young Writers or opportunities offered by the Ukrainian Book Institute, the current circumstances limit the state’s ability to provide sustained support. Large publishers, understandably, are often reluctant to take risks, preferring well-known authors or translated titles whose commercial success has already been proven abroad—albeit within a different cultural and mental context. Poetry and short prose, especially collective volumes, rarely fall within their scope. As a result, authors turn to small independent publishers.
A telling example is the poet Mykola Sliusarevskyi, a laureate of major Ukrainian literary prizes, including the Vasyl Symonenko Prize (2021) and the Todos Osmachka Prize (2019), and a member of both the National Union of Writers of Ukraine and the National Union of Journalists of Ukraine. Despite his recognition, his four poetry collections were published by three different publishing houses. The most recent one—chosen after the awards and after the beginning of the full-scale invasion—was published by a small independent publishing house. Why?
The war has forced local cultural initiatives to constantly negotiate the balance between survival and development. On one side lie financial instability, rampant inflation, soaring food prices, declining purchasing power, disrupted logistics, constant blackouts, team burnout, and widespread psychological exhaustion. On the other side is a growing need to make sense of reality—to engage in an honest and complex conversation that only literature can sustain. Out of this tension emerge new formats: small series, interdisciplinary books, collective projects, and events at the intersection of literature, education, and activism. Many “non-mainstream” authors choose ideological closeness and individuality—both their own and that of the publisher. In this way, new communities are formed, and the notion of what is considered “mainstream” expands, perhaps moving closer to what is universally human.
The war has forced local cultural initiatives to constantly negotiate the balance between survival and development.
It is significant that many independent initiatives do not pursue mass appeal as an end in itself. Instead, they work with depth, trust, and duration. In this context, a book ceases to be merely a commodity and becomes an act of presence—a way to record the experience of the “here and now,” even when that experience is painful or uncomfortable. Such literature forms an alternative Ukrainian canon: not heroic or simplified, but polyphonic and open to doubt.
A decisive shift in the Ukrainian book market occurred with the rejection of Russian books, later formalized at the legislative level. As soon as imports from Russia ceased, Ukrainian books experienced a surge in popularity, revealing themselves to be no less compelling than Russian literature. This shift was supported by numerous initiatives from state and civil society organizations. The Ukrainian Book Institute, for instance, launched impactful projects such as online festivals and public readings, databases of Ukrainian authors, and catalogues of books translated from Ukrainian into other languages. The NGO Ukrainian Humanitarian Platform, through its “Yedyni” (“United”) project, has spread across Ukraine and abroad, offering free Ukrainian language courses to Ukrainians and foreigners alike.
A remarkable example is the German citizen Stefan Fahr, whose bilingual poetry collection Leben in Zeiten des Krieges / Life During the War was written as a result of learning Ukrainian and participating in the “Yedyni” project after 2022. What prompted him to do so? A meeting at the Frankfurt Book Fair in 2022 with a representative of the independent Ukrainian publishing house Motornyy Ravlyk, who recommended the language courses and later published his book.
Since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, and with the support of the Ukrainian Book Institute, access to international markets—such as the Frankfurt Book Fair—has become more attainable even for small publishers. Foreign publishers have shown increased interest in Ukrainian titles and in offering their own books for translation. Numerous grants now support translation and publication costs (Creative Europe, FILI, among others). Yet, even the portion that remains uncovered by grants is often financially overwhelming for small Ukrainian publishers. Moreover, for Ukrainian books to be translated into other languages, an English translation is often essential, as decision-makers in foreign publishing houses do not necessarily read Ukrainian. Translators may advise, but they rarely determine which titles are selected. Thus, despite positive changes and new perspectives, significant challenges remain.
Global challenges—war, mass migration, digital transformation—only amplify the importance of the local. Ukrainian publishers and cultural actors must continuously adapt: working with authors scattered across countries, inventing new ways to reach readers, responding to technological change while maintaining ethical standards. In this sense, the literary ecosystem functions as a living organism, sustained by mutual support, solidarity, and flexibility.
The personal experience of working in an independent publishing house during wartime is one of constant coexistence between hope and exhaustion—a decision to continue even in the absence of guarantees. Multiplied by hundreds of similar decisions across the country, this persistence creates a shared process. Today, Ukraine’s literary ecosystem is not a monolithic structure, but a network of small, vulnerable, yet profoundly alive initiatives.
The resilience of this ecosystem lies not in ignoring the war, but in the ability to speak about it honestly, complexly, and in many voices. This is why independent publishers and local cultural initiatives have become one of the key spaces where the future of Ukrainian literature is being shaped—not despite the war, but in defiance of it.
Liubov Baz is a Ukrainian writer, literary scholar, editor and cultural organiser. She writes fantasy and speculative fiction for young adults and adults (e.g. De Profundis), with a strong focus on worldbuilding, social issues and the complexities of growing up. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of Motornyy Ravlyk, a publishing house dedicated to Ukrainian-language books for teenagers and young readers. Her texts have appeared in anthologies and literary magazines, and she is a finalist and laureate of national writing competitions, including the Smoloskyp Award. Liubov regularly takes part in literary festivals and book fairs both in Ukraine and across Europe. She is particularly interested in intercultural dialogue and translation, and sees storytelling as a powerful tool for building empathy and mutual understanding across borders.
Part of the International Literature Exchange 2025-26. The International Literature Exchange is a partnership project by National Centre for Writing and British Council, supported by Arts Council England.

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