By Sarah Kloth

In a literary landscape where time feels perpetually short and attention is constantly divided, the novella and short story have reemerged not as lesser forms, but as powerhouses of storytelling. In the world of translated literature, shorter works are not just gaining traction, they are shaping the future.
Why Shorter Works Travel Well
For decades, the economics of translation have been daunting. Long novels mean higher costs: more pages to translate, more risk for publishers, more shelf space to justify. Independent presses, ever the risk takers, are increasingly finding that brevity is both sustainable and compelling. A 120-page novella is not only cheaper to translate, it is also easier for readers to take a chance on.
Editors point out that shorter projects allow them to introduce new voices from around the globe without betting an entire season’s list on a single title. A smaller investment can mean greater freedom to take chances on innovative storytelling, experimental structures, and debut authors. That spirit of discovery is what keeps translation alive, and shorter forms are helping carry it forward.
The Reader’s Advantage
On the reader side, shorter works resonate with a cultural moment where time is scarce. Novellas and short fiction collections meet the needs of readers who want intensity without the sprawl. A well-cut novella offers a sharp burst, a single evening’s read that lingers far longer than its page count suggests. For many, the short form offers a complete world that does not demand a month of reading time.
And in translation, brevity has another advantage: language itself. Readers encounter new rhythms, unfamiliar cadences, and fresh metaphors. In a shorter work, those differences shine brighter, making the reading experience immediate and memorable.
Standouts from the Short Form
Two recent translations capture this shift beautifully.
Banu Mushtaq’s Heart Lamp is a slim, luminous work that reads like a whispered prayer. Centered on longing and exile, it compresses a lifetime of ache into a novella barely over a hundred pages. Its strength lies in what it does not say, the silences between words.
Uketsu’s Strange Pictures proves that short fiction can hold the surreal and the unsettling with incredible precision. Each story delivers the uncanny in tight, unsettling strokes, perfectly suited to the compressed, almost cinematic pacing of contemporary life.
Both books remind us that translation is not only about language, it is about rhythm, restraint, and the art of leaving just enough unsaid.
Voices from the Editors
Editors working in translation echo the same refrain: shorter works carry outsized impact. “For readers new to international voices, a novella is less intimidating,” one told us. “It lowers the barrier of entry. And when it works, it hooks them for life.”
Another noted that brevity allows publishers to take creative risks, discovering emerging voices, experimenting with form, and amplifying perspectives that might otherwise never make it into English. The shorter form makes translation more agile, and more accessible, for both publishers and readers.
A Tradition Reimagined
It is worth noting that the novella is not new. From Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilyich to Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice, the form has long been a vehicle for concentrated brilliance. What is new is the way contemporary readers are reaching for these works in translation. Indie publishers are reviving the novella not as an afterthought, but as a strategy, positioning shorter works as a gateway into literature that is global, diverse, and deeply human.
The Power of Precision
In the end, shorter works thrive because they meet readers where we are: overextended, overstimulated, but still hungry for literature that moves us. In translation, that hunger is even sharper, each novella or story collection an opening into a world we may never otherwise see.
Shorter, it turns out, is not lesser. It is sharper. Stronger. And in translation, it is exactly what we need.

Continue Reading:
Article originally Published in the Fall 2025 Issue: Indie Fiction From Across the Globe.