It is Monday, 17th March 2025: a date I have had saved in my calendar since the end of the four-day CELA meeting in Turin. It is the start of a three-day partnership between CELA and the Festival of World Literatures – Fabula, the most prominent literary festival in Slovenia. In other words: it is Monday, but it does not really feel like a Monday, because I am back in Ljubljana – a city I have come to love during my translation studies at the local Faculty of Arts – and about to reunite with my friends, the group of fellow translators that I connected with thanks to the CELA project.

It is great to meet again after a month, although I can hardly hide my worry: before treating ourselves to the first CELA x Fabula panel discussion this evening, another important commitment awaits. The pitching meeting with Slovenian editors. I can see the same worry reflected in the eyes of my peers. We are translators and writers, after all, notorious lone wolves, more comfortable in the solitude of our desks than in the spotlight. Better at pouring our thoughts on paper than expressing them aloud. The sense of responsibility I feel towards the three incredible Spanish writers I had the honour of translating does not help – I am their voice here in Slovenia, their bridge with (potential) Slovenian readers, and I want them to get this opportunity.

Finally, it is over. Actually, putting it like this sounds overly dramatic: not only is it over, I even had fun. Despite what my introvert, anxiety-induced brain was trying to convince me of, Slovenian editors don’t bite.

We are now heading towards the Cankarjev dom, or, as the English version of its website teaches me, the Cankar Cultural & Congress Centre. The building of the Cankarjev dom, named after the most important Slovenian writer, Ivan Cankar, stands in the heart of the city and hosts a wide range of diverse cultural events (from theatre shows to exhibitions, workshops, literary presentation, concerts, congresses…) every year – among which the Fabula Festival, of course.

Cankarjev dom is a labyrinth of halls and corridors; yesterday, I almost got lost in search of the Klub CD hall, where I was headed to listen to the Mexican writer Guadalupe Nettel, one of this year’s Fabula guests. Klub CD is located on the top floor of the building and boasts with a breathtaking view of the city: tonight, this hall will host a panel with three CELA writers – Ekaterina Petrova, Francesco Aloia and Filip Grujić, as well as their respective translators Maja Kovač, Zarja Lampret Prešeren and Natalija Milovanović.

It is very weird (the good kind of weird, at least for a language nerd like me) to think that, out of the three writers being presented, only one has been published in a language I understand. Smartly, the event starts with a reading of the excerpts from their books, translated into Slovenian, and I find myself thinking: Wow. My colleagues did a great job. And then: I wish this whole thing gets published in Slovenian. And then (because, as already mentioned, I am indeed a language nerd): Well, maybe I could start learning Serbian or Bulgarian and read it in the original.

The event, brilliantly moderated by Aljoša Harlamov, goes on, and the three writers tell us more about their art and everything that shaped it – their countries, their experiences, their feelings. Their travels. The people around them and their stories. They make us laugh and reflect.

I sit back, surrounded by fellow literature enthusiasts (by like-minded weirdos) and enjoy myself. In just two days, I will be up on that stage along with the rest of the Slovenian CELA translators, and I will have to put my own feelings and experiences into words. In the spotlight, once again. But I do not want to worry about it just yet. For tonight, I am a mere listener, and this suits me just fine.