Publishing Your Novel in French? Here’s What AI Translation Gets Wrong

AI trans­la­tion of French nov­el man­u­scripts is becom­ing increas­ing­ly com­mon. And after review­ing dozens of them, I can tell you exact­ly what gets lost.

A few months ago, I opened a man­u­script. Adven­ture nov­el, Amer­i­can bik­er club, tough and weath­ered char­ac­ters, end­less open roads, ten­sion sim­mer­ing under every line of dia­logue. It had all the mak­ings of a great read.

Except in the French ver­sion, the heroes were rid­ing bicy­cles.

The AI had trans­lat­ed bike as vélo, the every­day French word for bicy­cle. One algo­rith­mic deci­sion, and the entire atmos­phere of the book had col­lapsed. It was­n’t a bik­er nov­el any­more. It was the Tour de France.

This would be fun­ny if it were a one-off. But after review­ing dozens of AI-trans­lat­ed man­u­scripts, I can tell you: it isn’t. It’s a symp­tom.


The problem isn’t grammar. It’s judgment.

AI trans­la­tion tools are improv­ing fast. They now pro­duce texts that look cor­rect at first glance, and that’s pre­cise­ly what makes them dan­ger­ous for lit­er­ary fic­tion. French read­ers won’t stop to iden­ti­fy a gram­mar rule. They’ll just feel that some­thing is off, put the book down, and move on. And you, the author, will nev­er know why.

Lit­er­ary trans­la­tion isn’t about cor­rect­ness. It’s about choic­es, hun­dreds of them per page. And that’s exact­ly where AI con­sis­tent­ly falls short.

Here are the four areas where the errors are most dam­ag­ing, the ones I find in almost every AI-trans­lat­ed man­u­script I work on.


1. Tu vs. vous: a distinction that shapes every relationship in your novel

French has two words for “you”: tu (infor­mal, inti­mate) and vous (for­mal, respect­ful). Every sin­gle line of dia­logue requires a choice between them, and that choice car­ries enor­mous weight.

Tu sig­nals close­ness, equal­i­ty, famil­iar­i­ty. Vous sig­nals dis­tance, hier­ar­chy, or respect. But the real­i­ty in lit­er­ary fic­tion is far more nuanced. A char­ac­ter who address­es a stranger with tu might be show­ing con­tempt, or delib­er­ate­ly break­ing social norms. Two lovers who still use vous with each oth­er weeks into a rela­tion­ship are telling the read­er some­thing about their dynam­ic that no amount of descrip­tion could con­vey as effi­cient­ly.

AI does­n’t han­dle this. It picks a form, applies it, then drifts to the oth­er with no nar­ra­tive rea­son. I’ve cor­rect­ed man­u­scripts where a char­ac­ter opens a scene address­ing some­one as tu and clos­es the same scene using vous, not for dra­mat­ic effect, but because the algo­rithm lost track. For French read­ers, this is a qui­et but per­sis­tent rup­ture in the text, one they can’t quite name, but one that erodes their trust in the book.


2. French dialogue formatting: not a style choice, a convention

French dia­logue does­n’t use quo­ta­tion marks the way Eng­lish does. Instead, it uses an em dash (—) at the start of each line of speech, com­bined with a spe­cif­ic sys­tem of nar­ra­tive tags woven into the exchange. This isn’t option­al or styl­is­tic: it’s the stan­dard your French read­ers will expect.

Cor­rect­ly for­mat­ted French dia­logue looks like this:

Ellie refer­ma la porte der­rière elle.
— Tu étais où ? lui deman­da Suzi depuis le couloir.
— Sur le pont. Je n’ar­rivais pas à dormir.
— Il t’a par­lé ?
Elle s’ar­rê­ta.
— À peine.

What I typ­i­cal­ly receive from AI-trans­lat­ed man­u­scripts looks like this:

Ellie refer­ma la porte der­rière elle. — Tu étais où ? lui deman­da Suzi depuis le couloir. — Sur le pont. Je n’ar­rivais pas à dormir. — Il t’a par­lé ? Elle s’ar­rê­ta. — À peine.

Nar­ra­tion and dia­logue col­lapsed into a sin­gle block, with no visu­al breath­ing room. This isn’t a cos­met­ic issue. It’s the dif­fer­ence between a text that reads nat­u­ral­ly and one that makes your read­er work to fig­ure out who’s speak­ing. When a man­u­script runs to a hun­dred thou­sand words for­mat­ted this way, fix­ing it means going through every sin­gle page.


3. Past tenses: the single most common AI error in French fiction

This one appears in near­ly every man­u­script I review, and it does the most dam­age with read­ers.

French lit­er­ary prose uses the passé sim­ple, a tense that exists almost exclu­sive­ly in writ­ten nar­ra­tive: Il entra dans la pièce. Elle se retour­na. Leurs regards se croisèrent. It gives the text flow, momen­tum, and a dis­tinct­ly lit­er­ary qual­i­ty that French read­ers expect and respond to.

AI trans­la­tion almost always pro­duces the passé com­posé instead: Il est entré dans la pièce. Elle s’est retournée. This is the tense of every­day speech, text mes­sages, and oral sto­ry­telling. In prose, it feels laboured, stop-start, and strange­ly flat.

One read­er told me the book felt like read­ing a recipe. She returned the entire series. This isn’t about gram­mat­i­cal purism. It’s about read­ing expe­ri­ence. A nov­el that does­n’t flow is a nov­el that does­n’t get rec­om­mend­ed, and does­n’t sell a sec­ond vol­ume.


4. Expressions that don’t exist in French

AI trans­la­tion is built on pat­tern recog­ni­tion. Give it an idiom or a cul­tur­al­ly spe­cif­ic phrase it can’t prop­er­ly con­tex­tu­alise, and it will pro­duce some­thing that looks like French but lands wrong.

A few exam­ples from man­u­scripts I’ve worked on recent­ly:

  • “Souhait de pail­lettes” for glit­ter wish, a lit­er­al word-for-word trans­fer that means noth­ing in French. Read­ers stum­ble on it and lose the thread.
  • “Moments d’i­den­tité” for iden­ti­ty moments, equal­ly mean­ing­less. A French author would write moments rien qu’à nous or moments priv­ilégiés.
  • “Cuite morte” for dead drunk, a lit­er­al trans­la­tion that does­n’t exist. The nat­ur­al French is ivre morte or com­plète­ment schlass.
  • “Fit cla­quer sa langue depuis sa place” for tsked from her seat, a con­struc­tion no French speak­er would use. You’d say pous­sa un soupir agacé or fit cla­quer sa langue d’un air répro­ba­teur.

French read­ers notice these. They men­tion them in reviews. And they attribute them to the author, because your name is on the cov­er, not the algo­rith­m’s.


What this means for your manuscript

If you’ve used AI to trans­late your nov­el into French, what you have is like­ly a work­able first draft, but not a pub­lish­able one. The gap between the two is exact­ly where a human trans­la­tor or edi­tor comes in: some­one who knows how French lit­er­ary fic­tion sounds, how dia­logue is for­mat­ted, which tens­es car­ry which weight, and how to make your sto­ry feel writ­ten in French rather than con­vert­ed into it.

These aren’t cos­met­ic fix­es. They deter­mine whether your book gets read to the end, or qui­et­ly set aside after chap­ter one.

If you’d like an hon­est assess­ment of where your man­u­script stands, I offer a free review of your first chap­ter. I’ll tell you what’s work­ing, what’s catch­ing, and what needs atten­tion before you pub­lish.

This arti­cle is also avail­able in French for your fran­coph­o­ne read­ers and col­leagues : [Ce que je cor­rige chaque semaine dans les romans traduits par IA].

Sophie, Élan & Co | EN→FR Lit­er­ary Trans­la­tor and Edi­tor
sophie@elanandco.fr | elanandco.eu