Introduction

As literary translators who have spent a couple of years in the field, we have racked up some painful rejections and hours of work lost on projects that could not progress. While we’ve had successes too, rejection can feel so threatening to the viability of this career, especially when certain factors make it difficult to allocate literary translation as much time as we’d like. For example, the need to focus on paid opportunities, often in the form of commercial work, can take us away from literature. Jeffrey Zuckerman succinctly addressed the issue of underpaid and unpaid literary work in an interview for the TA First Translation Prize:

‘Translators are often asked to create samples for free and to translate books for a fraction of what English-language authors are paid for their books. Such practices create a monoculture of well-off practitioners and deter less-privileged newcomers from bringing their essential viewpoints and backgrounds to the industry. (The fact that I write these words as a white male is not lost on me; it is why I champion authors outside the status quo whenever I can.) The easiest way to solve this would be for publishers to pay their contractors fairly, and to actively diversify their stable of freelancers.’

We decided to address the rejection-success seesaw during our 2023 residencies with the National Centre for Writing through creating a resource that deals with the most urgent questions we have had, in the hope of providing support and reassurance to other translators who might share these feelings—emerging and experienced alike. We speak of rejection here in broad terms, encompassing a whole range of hurdles that could lead to the death of a dream translation project. While we want to avoid softening the harsh realities of working as a literary translator (we don’t think doing so helps anyone), we equally want to avoid discouraging people from what can be a rewarding field with immense cultural value.

Looking back, we realise we have often looked for ways to turn an apparent rejection into some form of success, to salvage something from the unpaid time devoted to a project, or to get the most out of hard-won successes, for the benefit of our mental health as well as our finances. By focusing on mental and financial resilience, we can all hope to craft a more sustainable literary translation career. This non-exhaustive round-up of what we’ve learned so far includes contributions from some translator friends, as a nod to how generous the translators in our networks have been in helping us with our careers and an encouragement to all of us to lean into the communities we belong to.

When pitching to publishers, rejection rates are high, often due to limited budgets within publishing and high competition. The emerging translator’s life often risks resembling that of a struggling artist (a phrase we’ll come back to): literary translation becomes a side hustle, subsidised by commercial translation or an entirely different job. Plus, much of the precious time that could be spent creatively is instead spent completing endless funding applications or repeatedly pitching the same projects. But these tasks can’t be avoided, because that’s what many of us have to do to win book-length contracts.

In such a context, rejection, despite being normal, can be beyond dispiriting. For literary translators on low incomes or who depend entirely on freelance contracts, they can be anxiety-inducing threats to our future, making us question whether literary translation is a sunk-cost fallacy. It’s not only the impact on our businesses, but also our attachment to the texts; we work on literature because we love it, and we tend to choose projects we are passionate about. The hours spent on a rejected project aren’t just a drain on our time and finances, but our emotional energy, too, especially when we’ve already been on a rollercoaster of experiences with the text. However, it’s important to remember that rejection isn’t necessarily the end of the story.

‘… The rights holder also suggested another text that I could work on. I also prepared a translation sample for that one, but by the time it was accepted by a literary magazine, the rights situation had changed, meaning the magazine publication couldn’t go ahead. I kept checking in, and a year later, the situation was resolved, the excerpt published, and a publisher has now shown interest in the full-length translation.’

Tip 1: Recycle the Material

If you had little luck pitching a full-length translation, could you still place an extract with a literary magazine—or your own website? As placing a translation on your website is still a form of publishing, it is essential to obtain the rights holder’s approval for this.  And it might so happen that a publisher eventually snaps up the project that way.

‘I started including sample translations on my website when I first set it up. My main translation experience had been as a commercial translator of fashion and textiles related website content and EU policy, while studying for a PhD in Translation Studies, and I wanted to branch out into literary and non-fiction translations. I was aware that, without knowing any of my work, editors and publishers would be unlikely to offer me full-length book translation contracts, so I decided to feature a portfolio on my website, initially with samples of books I was pitching, and then later with features from published book translations. For me, it’s another way of showcasing who I am and what I do, and I’ve had positive feedback from editors who said they found it helpful in getting to know my translation style, experience and expertise. I’ve recently been contacted by a publisher about one of the samples on my website, 5 years after I first started working on the translation — so you never know where a publicly accessible portfolio might lead.’ – Rebecca DeWald

Tip 2: Be persistent and systematic

In our experience, many publishers need a nudge before responding. If you’re not sure whether the silence you’re hearing is a rejection, try emailing them again. It’s worth doing this a couple of months after your initial contact and doing it more than once if needed. When enquiring about translation rights for the original text, try and find an email address specifically for the publisher’s foreign rights department. When emailing prospective publishers about your translation, try and find a named contact. You could see if someone in your network has worked with the publisher before and can introduce you to a particular editor.

Where you have had a clear negative response, you could propose something else on a smaller scale:

‘When I was starting out, one author told me I wasn’t experienced enough to do justice to their novel. I sent a sample translation anyway and asked if they’d be happy for me to submit the extract to a literary magazine. Not only did they agree, but they changed their stance on the full-length novel and encouraged me to look at their other works too.’ – Nadiyah Abdullatif

Having a systematic approach to pitching can help you to remember when a publisher might need a nudge, or what contacts you already have in the publishing world.

Tip 3: Wait it out, take a break or cut your losses

Sometimes what seems like a rejection just needs time. It can often take several months to hear back from publishers about pitches. Since it can be frustrating to wait on responses for numerous literary projects at once, working on something else in the meantime might be the best approach. For example, it might be helpful to focus on commercial work for a while and aim to develop no more than three literary projects at a time.

That said, even after chasing, you might decide it’s time to shift your attention elsewhere. It can feel hard to justify investing time in a new project after pouring time and effort into a rejected one, but remember that rejection in this field often happens for reasons out of your control.

You might even decide to take a rejuvenating break from literary work—and if you’ve experienced one rejection too many, it’s okay to close this chapter completely. While other translators can be understanding when they hear a colleague considering this, the assumption often hangs in the air that the person will eventually come back to literary translation. And while that assumption often proves true—literary translation is addictive for many of us—it’s important to recognise that we all have different circumstances. Despite the progress being made to improve accessibility from various angles, we need to normalise the decision to step away from a field so fraught with difficulty. Taking a break or breaking up with literary translation may be best for your health and finances and shouldn’t be equated with failure by you or your peers. As discussed by Anna Codrea-Rado on the Authors’ Matters podcast, creative freelancers don’t have to live like “struggling artists”—we can pivot.

Tip 1: Negotiate before signing

The excitement and relief of finally being offered a contract can make it tempting to “just sign” so you can get on with the project. But it’s worth easing off the gas during what is, we should remember, known as the contract negotiation stage—make sure you do negotiate. For starters, check that you’ll receive royalties and retain copyright of your translation. And if you’re a member of the Society of Authors or Authors Guild, always send your contract to their vetting teams before signing. It’s worth having an expert pair of eyes scan those clauses even if it appears you’re getting a good deal—and if the vetting team agree that it is a good deal, it’s still important for them to have seen your contract, to give them the fullest picture of current relationships between translators and publishers.

‘One thing that’s happened a couple of times – though I guess this is basic negotiating tactics really – is that I pushed for higher or broader royalties, was told no, but managed to use that to at least negotiate a higher basic fee for the translation. Something else that keeps coming up is ensuring there’s a commitment somewhere in the contract to actually publish the book, which publishers seem happy to include and provides a bit of extra peace of mind when part of your fee is only due upon publication. I’ve also secured commitments to feature my name at least somewhere on the jacket (I pushed for the cover, to no avail!)…’ – Jesse Kirkwood

‘…I plucked up courage and said I was expecting ideally both a one-off payment for the right to use my translation and a royalty on the UK edition’s sales, but would accept one of the above. There was some hoo-ha, and late-stage negotiations between the UK publisher and the agent had to be paused because no one had budgeted for my portion. But in the end I received a second contract, a small one-off payment and a small royalty on all the UK editions. I’d have had nothing if I hadn’t kicked up that fuss.’

‘Publicity can feel like an endless time sink, especially after all you’ve already given this book so much. A few thoughts: Don’t focus on print reviews. Do think about related short pieces your author could write, which you could place (& ideally get paid for translating!). Do keep a list of people who write and talk about books in your language(s) and genre(s); reach out to them individually about your book. Keep a short list of relevant publications, festivals, organizations, and university departments that might be able to invite you and your author. Online talks have created new opportunities to reach readers around the world; think widely & creatively about the English-language audience for your book. There are excellent literary critics in Nigeria, for instance, keenly interested in new works in English translation.’ – Marcia Lynx Qualey

Tip 5: Get paid for library copies and more

As well as the royalties received from your publisher, you can increase your income for published works by receiving payments for secondary rights from the Authors’ Licensing and Collecting Society (ALCS; eligibility criteria here; if you live outside the UK, contact them to find your local collecting society) and the UK and Irish Public Lending Right Scheme (PLR; eligibility criteria here). From the ALCS website:

‘”Secondary rights” (or “secondary use”) involve situations where a third party uses a work that’s already been distributed to the public – such as when schools photocopy books they own, or libraries lend books, or overseas TV companies retransmit UK TV signals… Royalties from “secondary rights” are paid to writers through ALCS – unless the royalties come from UK library lending, when the Public Lending Right (PLR) pays them.’

Sometimes an outside opinion can help reframe what you see as your failures and remind you of your successes. There are a growing number of online groups often serving specific communities and helping to enforce that in the seemingly solitary activity of translation, too, there is power in the collective:

• Emerging Translators Network (Google group)
• ALTA BIPOC Caucus (Discord server; open to non-ALTA members)
• D/deaf, Disabled and Neurodivergent Translators Discord Community
• FELT: French>English Literary Translators (Slack channel)
• #teamtranslator (Slack channel; primarily for commercial translation)

Various tools have also been developed to build freelancers’ financial and mental resilience. Creative Scotland’s Illustrated Freelancer’s Guide contains tips for dealing with late payments, negotiating contracts, setting rates and managing savings. Another tool is Balance, an online resource of self-paced modules designed specifically for creative freelancers and split into two sections: Balance Your Mind and Balance Your Books.