They show up on my computer screen every day or two with a question or a series of questions, and I answer them. But I’ve never met my translators.
I picture them as three young Chinese men, but I could be wrong. In Ethan’s profile picture, small as it is, I see a man with thick eyebrows and a plaid shirt looking back at me. But in Yang’s photo all I see is a figure walking through a bare, golden landscape, too small and far away to distinguish whether the figure is that of a man or a woman. Echo’s profile photo is even more mysterious. He (or she) uses a reproduction of Van Gogh’s Starry Night to indicate that he’s the one behind the words.
I could ask them about themselves, I suppose. But I don’t. I’m curious, but I prefer (at least at this point) to become acquainted as things come up with the translators of my novel.
The first thing I learned is that their English is excellent. Really excellent! I shouldn’t be surprised. Thirty-eight translators applied for the job. These three were the ones who were chosen.
I wasn’t expecting that they’d be well acquainted with the corner of China where my novel takes place. But one day Echo commented that he’d graduated from Xiamen (Amoy) University. And I thought, cool! Amoy is where my story happens.
My husband with a professor at Amoy University, 1983
A week or two later, Ethan mentioned that before he left for England to get a Masters in Translation, he spent a week at a bed and breakfast on the island of Gulangyu (Kulangsu), just walking distance from my protagonist’s house. Fantastic!
Gulangyu, China, on a foggy day in 1983
I’m still waiting for Yang to tell me something personal. I do know that, like the other two, he’s unfailingly professional and courteous, and the questions he asks are deep and detailed.
I hope before the translation is complete, I’ll get to know my translators better, because I already like them a lot. I wonder if they have siblings and whether they’re married. I wonder what they look like, aside from their tiny profile photos, and where they live. The company handling the translation, Fiberead, is located in Beijing. But my translators could be anywhere. Hmm. I wonder.
I’d better ask some questions soon, before my mysterious translators finish the work and disappear.
I’ll let you know when the Chinese translation of Tiger Tail Soup is published in China. Maybe you know someone who reads Chinese.
3 of them! Do they work together or individually? Novel publishing is a strange process these days, Nicki, but you’ve done it before. Very best of luck with the new one. 🙂
Good question, Jo. I suspect they don’t even live in the same city. They must coordinate in some way because one persons proofreads a chapter translated by another. Thanks for your good wishes.
This is so exciting and would also like to know more about them. But I doubt I would be brave enough to start a conversation about personal matters by myself.
Anyway, I still think it is really great your novel gets translated to Chinese.
I’m curious, but I don’t want to intrude. It’s hard to take the first step.
I do! Awesome and what a great idea! Have fun. <3
You must be overjoyed to have your book translated into Chinese. I’m happy to hear you’ve found some translators that you like. I’m sure as time goes forward, you will get to know more about them.
I am enjoying the whole process, Michelle. The trouble is, they’re already proofreading their work, so they’ll be done soon.
If you want to borrow a few of my character questionnaires, I have plenty. Oh gosh, I’d be dying to know details about them. Maybe you can find them on Facebook. 🙂
I wish I could find them on Facebook. I suppose they can use Facebook from China. I know some Western women living there who do. But without knowing the translators’ full names, I think that won’t work.
This is so great to have your book translated in Chinese, Nicki! Really a good start for 2016!
I’m happy about it, Evelyne. The opportunity came quite by chance, so it’s a real bonus. Happy New Year.
How exciting, Nicki. I am sure you’ll get to know the translators at some point. I’m sure they are interested in you too. But keeping everything on a professional level can do no harm. I don’t work in translation it seems like a very cool job to have, one that can take you places.
Am looking to get your book sometime this year, Nicki 🙂
As a translator, I have to say you sound like an amazing author to work with 🙂 Well, I have never translated a book, but I know many authors don’t like answering questions. As if the translators asked because they wanted to be annoying.
I am currently reading your book, Nicki, and I have to say I am liking it a lot. You are a great writer.
I find it interesting that you have 3 translators rather than just 1 ~ is that the norm for English to Chinese? Because of the many different dialects?
I don’t know why they gave me three translators. I think it’s just their process. Right now the translators are proofreading. They seem to be proofreading chapters they didn’t originally translate.
The dialects shouldn’t make any difference. Written Chinese is the same for everyone since it’s not phonetic. The characters are logograms, more like pictures. There are two written languages, though. In China they started using simplified characters in the 1950s and ’60s. In Taiwan, Hong Kong, and in other overseas Chinese communities, they have mainly stayed with the traditional characters.
That sounds like a good practice ~ they are less apt to skim over typos in a section they haven’t translated.
And I didn’t realize that the dialects were all based on one written language. Thanks for that.
As I get older, I tend not to ask personal questions. Often, people tell me things, sometimes, too much information. One feel obliged to nod or say the right thing. One also learn to watch out for the can of worms as the British would say although this not always possible.
I’ve had good luck recently. Since I often travel alone, I’ve enjoyed talking to people on planes. But then, most airplane travelers are used to divulging only as much as they feel comfortable sharing, and we all know how to end a conversation by pulling out a book or an iPad. I know what you mean, though. In some circumstances it’s better to maintain your privacy. You don’t want to give certain people “a foot in the door,” because you may not be able to get rid of them.
I would be sooo curious, too, Nicki! I love the photo of Gulangyu ~ it looks intriguing. I have your book and it’s the next one on my stack of To Be Read books. I’m looking forward to it!
How nice! I’m flattered that my novel has made it to the top of your TBR pile.
That photo of Gulangyu was taken in 1983. I’ve seen recent photos, and it looks like the island hasn’t changed much. Things have been updated, but visitors seem to like the old historic buildings and the slow pace of life.
It does look beautiful!
I would be so curious!
I guess I’m not the only one who’s curious. I also like to know something about the bloggers whose posts I read. You’re pretty much an open book, Kate.
And not all that exciting either. I follow some folks who are very secretive and I’m not sure if I’m missing the boat. Of course, if you’re an anonymous blogger you can blog about anything without fear of hurting feelings.
Both techniques have their advantages. It feels more natural to me, though, to know a little something about the blogger. On the other hand, I don’t usually look up authors of books to see what they look like.
I would be so tempted to be nosy! (The writer’s curse.) You are very polite and restrained. I’m impressed.
Did they ever pose a question you couldn’t answer?
Unlike some people I know (who will not be named), I didn’t peek in people’s drawers and cupboards when I was a kid. It probably would have made me a better writer, though, to be more nosy.
The translators did pose some questions that stumped me. One was about the source of a piece one of the characters was reading. It was by the writer Lin Yutang, and I remember finding it online. But after a couple of hours of searching, I gave up.
One embarrassing question was about mahjong. I’ve never played it, so I read a how-to book before writing the mahjong scenes. Then I asked a friend who played if it made sense. The translator wanted me to explain what I meant by a round, and a game, and I had to admit my lack of knowledge and ask him to make it sound right.
I’m glad you found such well-qualified individuals who have things in common with your story. I hope you’ll get a chance to meet them someday, Nicki. Perhaps they’ll show up in a book one day. 😉
I don’t know if I’ll ever meet my translators in person, but it would be nice to get better acquainted online. And will they show up in a book one day? Hmm. Everyone is a possibility.
How fascinating that one of the translators graduated from Xiamen University! It must be fun for you to work with them and they have some wonderful connections to the places in the story. I definitely know people who would love to read — looking forward to sharing the news when your translation is complete and available for readers over here!
That’s great, Jocelyn. I’d really appreciate that.
That is so exciting! Having your story translated is a wonderful gift of faith in your story and is well-deserved.
Thanks, Paddy. I was pleased that so many translators were interested in taking it on.