Drafts learn your style from your past translations. Every correction teaches the next draft, so you never fix the same thing twice. You decide every sentence.
Your book. Ten pages. No card.
You sit down with a word count to hit and a deadline that hasn't moved. You read the draft and start putting back the rhythm, the phrasing, the voice you're paid to bring. Then you fix a choice you already corrected three paragraphs ago. You want to finish the book, but you're spending your day repeating yourself.
The highlighted words are your choice, carried forward without being told again. Illustration; your own pages will show your own choices.
A correction you made, a rule you gave, a choice already in your past translation. All of it counts.
Tell us twice: half your book fee back.
Tell us three times: the book is free.
You open your manuscript and click Draft the next 150 words.
You reach a sentence that needs something else and bring up three alternatives.
You choose one, edit it in place, and your approved work saves itself.
You draft the next passage. That correction is already in it.
You check your pace, and decide to do another 150.
Your first ten pages are free. Find out how it handles your voice before you pay a cent.
Then $25 for a 100,000-word novel: $0.25 per 1,000 words, $15 minimum. Per book, never per month.
Why so little? You're joining during early access, at half the future price.
Built alongside a working literary translator, on a 100,000-word novel she is translating with it now.
No. Anything you've written gives it a starting point for your voice. A past translation, with its original, gives it the most.
No. Nothing is saved that you didn't approve. Every sentence stays your call.
Yes. Those count, along with corrections you make and rules you give. Twice: half your fee back. Three times: the book is free.
English, German, Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese and most European languages, either direction. Ask about yours.
Want it by name against other tools? The Compare page.
Give it your writing, your rules, your choices. Judge the draft against the voice you've spent years building. Your next ten pages are the test.
Your book. Ten pages. No card.