How does it feel to be longlisted for the International Booker Prize 2024, and what would winning the prize mean to you? Would it also have an impact on literature originating from Italy?

I’m so happy and in disbelief. At first I thought it was some kind of joke, which of course would have been an incredibly smart, sophisticated and perverse joke (so, a good one!), and now in my depressive moments during the day I think of it and say to myself: ‘Hey, come on, you’re on that list!’ I’m too superstitious to think about the idea of winning it, and I can’t say whether it would have an impact on Italian literature, since no Italian has ever won it before, so it would be nice to find out!

What were the inspirations behind the book? What made you want to tell this particular story?

In the beginning, the story was supposed to be a monologue I intended to write for a friend who’s an actress, and I started writing it before the pandemic. When the pandemic hit, theatres were among the first places to be closed. It was almost like the government was happy to finally close them and maybe keep them closed forever… Anyway, I kept on writing and it became a novel. So, the inspiration was to write a story that was very much connected to my personal story but at the same time imagined for another person and for a performance. I think this initial estrangement made me write a kind of hybrid autobiography in which the main character is constantly wondering about her fictional status. 

How long did it take to write the book, and what does your writing process look like? Do you type or write in longhand? Are there multiple drafts? Is the plot and structure intricately mapped out in advance? 

It took more or less a couple of years, but with a lot of interruptions in the process. I always write longhand and I never do multiple drafts. Until I’m satisfied with a sentence, I simply can’t go on. I get stuck there forever. I keep thinking about that sentence during my constant insomnia. The book doesn’t have a proper structure or plot, and that was one of my main concerns while writing it, but then I realized it was the only way I could write the story, that any kind of structure would have forced it in a direction that sounded very artificial and phoney to me. 

What was the experience of working with the book’s translator, Leah Janeczko, like? How closely did you work together on the English edition? Were there any surprising moments during your collaboration, or joyful moments, or challenges?

It was beautiful. I was very happy when I read her sample of the first chapters. It was clear she had found a voice in which I recognized myself, and that was one of the first joyful moments. I’m a translator too, and I know how difficult it can be to find that voice. And sometimes you simply don’t find it. She told me that she loved my book, and of course I was eager to believe her, and if she was lying, she was a perfect liar, so in any case I’m grateful for her work, and for the great solutions she found for some of the wordplay in the novel. 

Tell us about your reading habits. Which book or books are you reading at the moment, and why?

I just finished reading the new novel by Claudia Durastanti, who’s a friend and one of the best Italian writers at the moment, and I read The Cost of Living by Deborah Levy because I’m writing the preface to the Italian edition. I’m now reading La educación física by Rosario Villajos, whom I met briefly a few weeks ago in Rome. I liked her and I’m liking her novel. 

What was your path to becoming a reader – what did you read as a child and what role did storytelling play in your younger years? Was there one book in particular that captured your imagination?

As I wrote in Lost on Me, I think that I became a writer out of all the boredom I suffered when I was a child. I had two very anxious parents, so the only thing I could do basically was read and make up stories in my mind. It was a little bit like living in the movie Dogtooth by Yorgos Lanthimos. I have an older brother, and he’s a writer too. When we were children, my mom didn’t put any limitations on the things we could read, though there was one book that was off-limits: The Cement Garden by Ian McEwan (I can see why), so of course I read it eagerly and loved it, and since it was a forbidden pleasure, it stayed very vivid in my imagination for years. 

Tell us about a book that made you want to become a writer. How did this book inspire you to embark on your own creative journey, and how did it influence your writing style or aspirations as an author?

I can’t think of a single book, but when I read The Outsider by Camus, it definitely resonated with me for days, and then years. Thanks to that book, I think my approach to literature and to life in general is something like that: how do we deal with absurdity? That’s how I wake up every morning, that’s my last question before going to sleep. (Maybe it’s why I’m sleepless.) Meanwhile, I keep on dealing with absurdity. 

Tell us about a book originally written in Italian that you would recommend to English readers. How has it left a lasting impression on you? 

It’s a Hard Life by Luciano Bianciardi. First of all, it’s a book that’s beautifully written. (I hope the English translation renders all its beauty and complexity.) And it’s a book full of love and rage, a book that deeply affected my political upbringing and the vision I still have of society and the capitalist world. 

Do you have a favourite International Booker Prize-winning or shortlisted novel and, if so, why? 

Fever Dream by Samanta Schweblin, because I love her voice and her weird imagination. I must say that at the moment I’m very interested in literature from Argentina. 

What role do you think translated fiction plays in promoting a more inclusive and diverse literary canon, and how can we encourage more people to read it? 

In Italy we read a lot of fiction in translation, but especially fiction from the US or UK, so we have a canon which is at the same time Italian and Anglophone. Sometimes we even discover authors only because their books become famous in Anglophone markets, and that fame carries over into Italy (such as Tove Ditlevsen, just as an example). I think the best way to promote an inclusive and diverse literary canon is to deconstruct the very concept of a canon, otherwise we’ll keep on looking for what that canon has established. 

How does it feel to be longlisted for the International Booker Prize 2024 – an award which recognises authors and translators equally – and what would winning the prize mean to you?

Once I finally overcame my surprise, I was absolutely thrilled. (I was also excited that not just one but two Italian novels had made it onto the longlist.) I feel so lucky and honoured to be on the list alongside Veronica. Translating Lost on Me in itself was a joy, and now this! I can barely imagine winning, but if we did, I would be delighted for her, for me, and more generally for Italian literature in translation. 

How long did it take to translate the book, and what does your working process look like? Do you read the book multiple times first? Do you translate it in the order it’s written? 

Lost on Me is a relatively short book, and the translation took me only about a month and a half. It could have taken longer, but translating is my passion, and when I’m working on a novel it’s all I want to do; everything else in my life disappears. As for my process, I read the book first, quickly throw down a rough draft, check it against the original, and reread it on its own again and again and again. (Enough times to question my own sanity.) As the final step, I always read the whole translation out loud, tweaking any clunkiness, repeated words, unintentional rhyme or alliteration, and making sure it all flows as smoothly as the original. This step was particularly important when working on Lost on Me, which in Italian is wonderfully flowing and conversational.

Aside from the book, what other writing did you draw inspiration from for your translation?

All my inspiration came from the original novel. One of the most important things to me when translating a book is rendering the Italian author’s authentic voice in English. Lost on Me is character-driven, so I was really focused on making Veronica’s strong, distinctive voice come through. 

What was your path to becoming a reader – what did you read as a child and what role did storytelling play in your younger years? Was there one book in particular that captured your imagination? 

When I was little I loved reading, and was happy to read just about anything, but I’ve always been particularly drawn to books with an element of fun. As a very young reader, among my favourite books were Shel Silverstein’s illustrated poems. (I still find rhymes so captivating. They bring out the kid in me!) In high school, I discovered Kurt Vonnegut’s novels and was fascinated by how he tinkered and toyed with his timelines, narration and readers. (I’ll never forget his marking characters’ names with asterisks in Galapagos.) I love translating books that surprise me, that combine storytelling and fun, especially when they include humor and wordplay. So, naturally, translating Lost on Me was a real treat. 

Tell us about your path to becoming a translator. Were there any books that inspired you to embark on this career? 

While studying Comparative Literature in college, I came to Milan for what was supposed to be one semester, but instead I never went back. Like most American expats here, I taught English for a living, which I enjoyed, but soon I began moonlighting for one of my clients, Disney Italy, translating their comics and magazines into English. The work was so creative and I loved it so much that I became a full-time translator. I moved on to books, at first for younger readers and later for adults, and now I translate fiction for all ages. So what inspired me to become a translator wasn’t a particular book, but my love of language and creativity, of working (and playing) with words. 

What are your reading habits under normal circumstances? Which book or books are you reading at the moment, and why? 

As is often the case, almost all of my reading these days is for work. For the Bologna Children’s Book Fair, which is next week (at the time of writing), I’m reading stories and poems by Roberto Piumini, who has been nominated three times for the Hans Christan Andersen Award and is one of Italy’s most important children’s authors but is practically unknown in English-speaking countries. For the Turin International Book Fair in May, I’m reading essays and short stories by the late Rinaldo De Benedetti, a man of letters and science whose work has yet to be published in the US and UK. There are so many undiscovered jewels of Italian literature, and I’m eager to help their voices be heard in English. 

Tell us about a book originally written in Italian that you would recommend to English readers. How has it left a lasting impression on you? 

I would absolutely recommend the great 19^th-century Italian classic The Betrothed by Alessandro Manzoni in Michael F. Moore’s brilliant rendition, which won last year’s Italian Prose in Translation Award. The novel has all the elements of a great read – a compelling plot, suspense, history, humour, love – with none of the stuffiness often associated with classics, thanks to Michael’s translation, which is fresh, readable, meticulously researched and utterly inspiring. I loved every page. 

What role do you think translated fiction plays in promoting a more inclusive and diverse literary canon, and how can we encourage more people to read it? 

I imagine more people would read translated fiction if they had a clearer idea of exactly what books are out there; when the net being cast is wide enough to cover the globe, everyone is bound to find something they love. But for word about foreign books to spread, it would help if people from different fields – translators, librarians, publishers, bloggers, editors, teachers – reached out to one another. The Global Literature in Libraries Initiative is a group that aims to do just that, with the goal of increasing the visibility of world literature for readers of all ages. In October 2024 (the same month that Italy will be the country of honour at the Frankfurt Book Fair) I’ll be working with the GLLI as guest curator of its first Italian Literature Month. This will consist primarily of daily posts by Italian-to-English translators who describe one of their books that has been published and is available for immediate purchase. My hope is that we translators can work together, and with others, to raise readers’ interest in Italian books and put more of them on bookshelves.