Every third Thursday of the month I have a lightning bolt of energy hit my brain. These monthly meetings are organized through the Center for Fiction and Çedilla and Co. for translators, authors, and the translation-curious. Tonight, the topic was translating as creative writing and the speakers were Jeremy Tiang and Madhu Kaza, who both shared their creativity and multiplicity with the dozens of curious attendees. I being one of them of course. Their brief mentions of ventures into the creative world in other disciplines outside of translation really struck me. Jeremy’s history with theatre made me think of translation as a form of method acting, while Madhu’s performance background made me see a pen and paper as pointe shoe and dance floor. These metaphors are quite simple, but the boundaries between selves are so thin when it comes to creativity. Creativity: a pure power that knows no boundaries, no language, no self. That creativity transcends these terrestrial, interior borders and even transcends self as one translates an author making the creativity a union of many. As I translate harnessing that creative force, I do so wanting to spread the power of one community—one author’s voice—to many through my creative flow. Whether it be ceramics, photography, tap dancing, gardening, poetry, creative writing, my creativity contains multitudes that can be channeled into translation, using what I learn in those disciplines to hone a better craft as I translate every novel, every line, every word.

xx

Ev

Remember how curious you were as a child? How free? The inhibitions and confines that awaited me were unknown quantities. I am reminded how my eyes would take in everything as quickly as possible. As I was discovering myself, the big bad 90s villain mr. homophobia and his sidekick (master?) mr. transphobia came in to put a patriarchal wrench into the works. I often think where I’d be without the external (which became internal as well) force, but as I rid myself of those big baddies through the constant struggle of gender dysphoria, I can say that I’ve finally caught back up with that curious child’s journey. What does this have to do with translation? So glad you ask. Those ever-vigilant eyes could have glimpsed so much beauty that was hidden away behind walls of confusion. Often, that confusion can be due to a language barrier. Working on French queer fiction and translating it into English dissolves the language barrier for those curious minds, unlocking levels and layers of the global conversation, allowing them to understand the world better, and in turn, understand themselves better. My work translating, as I have stated in previous journal entries, is my life’s mission. I like to think that my translations will reach a questioning soul and help them find their way to their life path that will lead them to their higher self, as I lead myself to my own higher self through the art of translation. Letting the authors I read teach me their wisdom allows me to pass along their beautiful words, wisdom, and yes failures. I might be over-sharing here, but I strongly believe the power of empathy and vulnerability allow a translator to put themselves into the author’s shoes to experience the same raw emotions they felt when they first put pen to paper. I gladly embrace those feelings in the flow state I go into while my fingers glide over my keyboard. As I type, I discover pieces of myself that I’ve lost along the way. Pieces that were hiding from my creative soul behind a wall society and its all-consuming fears blocked me from being connected to. They are hidden no more.

xx

ev

I had a zoom meeting with the wonderful Adel Tincelin earlier today. What an enlightening, affirming experience. I am grateful for the opportunity to share my ideas with the author of the very book that touched me so deeply. As we collaborate on the translation together in our respective confinements, I am overcome with thanks that we are both driven to see our visions through. This reminds me that so many books in the queer canon are by authors who left this world far too soon, to the most vicious of negative energies. I keep that thought on my mind, sure to not let it slip into my blind spot as I continue translating and exposing works to an English-speaking audience. Thankfully globalization allows me to be transported to the queer collective where Adel is and share ideas and speak French as if we were six feet apart in his flat’s living room. This experience has underlined the worth that collaboration has in translation: similar to critique in artist studios, this modern day zoom salon allows two or more minds to create something greater than themselves. Something that will have an incalculable effect on those who allow such stories into their lives. I am also reminded of the fact that I don’t—won’t—ever have all the answers and that the points of view of outsiders (or insiders in the case of Adel) are as if not more important as my initial translations. And hey, puzzles can be more fun to do together.

TL;DR? I’m one thankful person

Now that I have four books completed in translation, I have no qualms about my skills as a translator. Take that, imposter syndrome! This has been a revelatory experience for me and I am focused on the next steps in my journey. After completing my translation of On n’a que deux vies… I shifted my focus to getting this work published. My other books were passion projects that I am also eager to get published, but Adel Tincelin’s work really touched me at my core. Some part of the universe sent me the article I found it from and propelled me to getting one step closer to living out my dream of becoming a published translator. I have been looking at various publishing houses and while I await some feedback from my cherished friends who I’m using as reading guinea pigs, I am taking the time to perfect what it means to query a publisher. If that is the proper terminology. As I have completed these works, I guess I would call them a proposal? And a query would be if I had not yet completed the translation? Comment below if I am misled. In any case, the expedience with which this is all happening is a bit overwhelming; as though I were opening the door to a new tomorrow. A tomorrow whose light is warm on my face and embraces my questioning self with welcoming reassuring arms. Resilience is imperative in publishing, so I press on.

After devouring multiple French books by queer authors, I am struck with how few are available to the English-speaking audience. Of course there are widely available stories of modern queer-ness, but often they are reduced to cis and heteronormative stories that are widely available and easily digested. As I begin swimming deeper into the translation pool, I hope to carefully curate a deep sense of diversity and inclusion in the works that I take the most interest in. Of course I enjoy the more palatable works, who wouldn’t, that is like saying no to a hot fudge sundae. But as more voices are raised up the same way tentpole blockbusters are raised up in the film industry, independent and unique voices need their time on the red carpet too. I hope to share the stories that resonate with me so deeply and purely; stories that change my perspective, stories that gnaw at my being, stories that make me laugh, all in all, a good book. That is what I look for when I’m getting ready to translate. Something within me that says “this book belongs on every shelf” not only for the views to be shared with a carefree reader, but more importantly with someone that might stumble upon the translation I’ve done and resonate with the French-speaking author’s voice and soul. Something that translates through time and space, speaking a uniform language of love and belonging. That is my mission. Something I need to remember when writing: these words will have gravity for a reader, that the reader will transform these words into a thought that will become part of their soul. The same way the source words become a part of me. The latest book that has propelled me to such thought is On n’a que deux vies, Journal d’un transboy by Adel Tincelin. I have been cast into the fairy forest that Adel thrives in and have been transmogrified into the steadfast translator I have been yearning to be for so long now. This work needs to be shared. It has made me think about myself in a different light, nay, in the same light I have always been in—that I lost. So I will soon sit down to translate and reflect on how to best give Adel’s voice to an English-speaking reader. And I vibrate with excitement at the opportunity to do so. As the pink light of the sunset withers into darkness, the stars begin flickering in the sky as my computer’s blue light reflects off my glistening, wistful eyes. Typing the first words of a new translation.

When taking on any new task, some guidance is always beneficial. Whilst translating my hobby into a profession, I was in definite need of having a mentor to guide me through the proper steps to take. I turned to Skillshare and found a course on Freelance Translation by Robert Gebhardt that significantly helped me lay some boundaries and groundwork for the proper way to start a business of my own. Having a basic understanding of an always-in-motion business realm was the best way for me to figure out how I fit in this nebulous world of translation. While translations have to be meticulous and logical, the industry demands its freelancers to be flexible and ready for anything. Striking the balance between the two is of utmost importance and requires a certain amount of self-control and discipline. Or that is my understanding of the profession at this point, I am certain my coming experience will change this point of view, underscoring the flexibility this profession requires. Flexibility, focus, freedom, French to English… I am beyond motivated with my past experience and future goals to continue this journey and achieve my dream of being a successful French to English translator.