Thankful for Writing (A New Year's Eve Thought)

I am typing this blog in faraway Dededo, Guam, exactly two hours before 2009 bids goodbye.

Two things are racing in my mind right now: fear…and excitement. Two separate emotions that are in a quagmire; two different poles playing hopscotch in a thin line.

They say that ‘change’ is the one thing constant in life. If we are aspiring for something, that ‘change’ can present itself in the form of fresh air or new views, the promised elixir of hope, or the answer to our most prayed for dreams.

If there is one thing about ‘change’ that keeps me on my toes, it is the dreadful feeling of ‘anticipation’. Dreadful in a sense that we are forced to wait for whatever ‘change’ is bound to happen. We even equate ‘dread’ with ‘excitement’. If we are not so sure about the outcome of that ‘change’, we feel ‘dread’; likewise when victory or triumph is in the offing, we feel ‘excitement’. Talk about confidence, which, I feel, is the one thing that I’m not sure of I carry all the time.

Being the worry wart that I am, I always rely on these two words whenever people ask me about my feelings about ‘changes’ in my life that are bound to happen whether I like them or not: “Kinakabahan ka ba?” It is one question that I love to answer with a thin smile and feigned strength – “No, hindi ako kinakabahan. I’m just excited.”

That’s why I will never be a good classical pianist. I’m a nervous wreck especially hours before a recital. I remember the countless times when I would vomit for real, and had a case of cold hands minutes before I sit on the stool and had my turn on the piano.

It is thus a blessed and wonderful thing that I discovered ‘writing’, or rather, that ‘writing’ discovered me. It is the one thing that I can do in peace, at the solitary confinement of my room or in public places where I can selectively shut my ears off and veer away from the madding crowd. It is the one thing that embraced me – my warts and all, and it is the one thing that always believed in me – when I myself wouldn’t believe in me.

In writing, I don’t feel dreadful. Just excited. Because in it, I find the ally that is always there, ever loyal but not really blind to my imperfections; I can romance and make my way around it, and it is always the jilted lover who never fails to forgive and forget.

When I write, I feel a certain change that is totally liberating. It frees my fearful soul, it trumps whatever shortcomings I have as a little human walking in a world of supreme and towering giants.

It is New Year’s Eve, and the year 2009 has been so good to me in terms of the wonderful things that God has blessed me with. Career-wise, it is my writing endeavors that shone the brightest. I was given the chance to head the creative department of a Manila-based Christian Network, was assigned a couple of episodes to write for a top-rating national kiddie show, was part of an OFW-based magazine that continues to give inspiration and hope to its readers, and as a bonus, was also blessed to have won in not just one, but two prestigious writing contests in the country.

It is one thing to dread the unknown, and one thing to embrace what that unknown brings. Being a writer gives me that bravery to tackle things from off shores. It is the megaphone that I can use so the world may have the chance to hear this minute voice. This thing called ‘Writing’ has given me that warm shirt on my back, that roof over my head, that fireplace in that grimy, cruel cold. It is one thing that I know God has given gifted me with, and I can only hope that as the new year beckons, I will continue to learn and be fruitful, and most of all I pray that I will be a worthy steward of this gift.

Imagine and Believe...Merry Christmas Everyone!

Image above based from my book, "Ang Batang Maraming Bawal", artwork by Rodel Tapaya and published by CANVAS and UST Publishing House.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!

My novel won!

Just this morning, as I was in the middle of previewing in my PC a raw cut of a shoot we did two days ago in Parañaque, my local phone at the office rang. Some female voice from the Filipinas Heritage Library/National Book Development Board was looking for me. After confirming to her that it was me on the line, she casually asked for my TIN number and other information. Puzzled, I asked her why she was asking for those information. Casually, she said she was preparing a cheque. A cheque?

I was still nonplussed. “This is about what?” I asked her.

Like waking up from a stupor, I only heard the following:

“….The National Book Development Board….your entry….won in the Filipino fiction…”

“Did you mean, the Pinoy Story Writing Contest? I didn’t know I won.”

I now totally forgot about the contest already. I know from the rules they were supposed to announce the winners in late November. It’s now December 9.

“Kailan ang awarding?” I asked, excited.

She said something like this:

“It was held last November 23 at the Greenbelt 3. We were calling you but we can’t reach you…”

For a while there, nanghinayang ako. But only for about 5 seconds. She then told me the number where the organizers called and texted me, and yes, two of the digits were mixed up.

“May press release na ba sa website nila?”

“Wala pa po ata…”

Stunned, I immediately looked for the number of the National Book Development Board after putting the phone down.

Later, after talking to Miss Dianne from the NBDB, she finally relayed to me the good news that my 108-pages novel, Bukas, A.D. was one of the winners in the contest.

I was thrilled. Totoo ba ito? When I asked her who the judges were, she didn’t know but told me the team from Anvil Publishing picked the winners. I was doubly happier when she told me that Anvil Publishing has included the manuscript for their 2010 releases.

I felt so happy. Actually, hanggang ngayon, medyo nakalutang pa ako. The novel was a labor of a love. It is very different from what I have done before, and am so glad it was noticed. Thank You, Lord for this blessing!

Will keep you posted on the development of the book. :-)

Punta Sa Saturn Pag Puno Na Sa Earth

Or: How Belle Changed The Ending of the Disney movie Up

One night a couple of days ago I saw Belle reading this illustrated Bible story book. I know for sure that Belle loves reading different storybooks but this time she called and asked me to turn the pages for her. Or rather, she asked me to turn a couple of pages she dreaded. When I asked her why, she looked uneasy and fearful. The pages in question featured drawings from the crucifixion scene, especially one of Jesus Christ hanging on the cross, all bloodied and dead, forsaken and forlorn.

From the look in her face, I know Belle was a bit affected. When I asked her what the matter was, she started her litany by saying, “Is God really good, Papa?” When I asked her why she thought of that, she answered, “Ilang prayers ko na ang hindi niya sinasagot. I prayed that no one will die. Yet, namatay si Francis Magalona, namatay si Cory Aquino…” and a few other names I forgot to recall.

I looked at her and somewhat remembered an incident before while I was growing up in Kamuning, Quezon City. That time, I saw my father smoking his favorite Pall Mall cigarette. From out of the blue, I felt fearful. How can a seven year old kid feel fearful, and how should I suppose to know then that smoking was hazardous to one’s health? My father was standing there beside our gas range, shirtless, enjoying blowing the thin wisp of smoke that seemed to dance in emanating circles in the air. My father then, all of 30 or 31, looked like he was an old man; like the smoke he cradled on his lips would whisk him off to some faraway places only he knew. For some reason, that image stayed in my mind – and only recaptured now. I was transfixed, but the vision got me worried. Right there and then I decided I never want to lose a loved one.

“Bakit mo ba iniisip iyan? You don’t have to think about those things,” I said without thinking. And it made me more depressed, having realized it was not a satisfactory answer.

Belle started to cry. I just hugged and comforted her, encircling her with my right arm. It was late in the evening, and we were propping up for bed. This scene was happening while Ivan was playing with his little animal toys. I was immediately aware of my kids’ differences – Ivan was three, enjoying his fare, careless and free in spite of the little dramatics between his father and sister; and Belle was nine, and the questions are starting to queue in a different direction – a direction brimming with precocity, a direction I feared was forthcoming.

I had to admit this was one parenthood coffer that I still had to unearth. How do we answer questions without appearing distant and unaffected, or how do we say our take on things seemingly trivial for us but a big deal to our kids? To answer Belle’s flurry of questions on mortality, I started to look for the answers deep within myself. For a moment there I was stymied. Oh, how I hated knowing little. How I hated me for not having sufficient knowledge to give her my answers in pronto. I just felt I had to answer something in the affirmative, an answer that would somehow, I hope, appease her.

“That’s why we always have to pray to God to give us long life, di ba?”

“Ibig sabihin lahat tayo mamamatay?”the tears now freely flowing.

“Bakit mo ba iniisip iyan, honey? Matagal pa iyon. God will be with us, He will protect us. He will bless us with old age.”

I still wasn’t satisfied with my answer. I felt it was a cop out. The bottom line there was still, yes, we all will pass one day. But I hated myself more for being coy, for playing it safe, and for not answering “yes”.

In principle, I wished I could have told her, “Yes, anak, death naman is not the end. It is only the door that ushers us into eternity…” I tried my best to rephrase the words in my mind, but how do I put it all together so she could understand better? You never discuss death to little children, like you would never expose to them your feeble side.

What she answered back made me freak out, I almost guffawed but instantly checked my reaction so as not to belittle her serious mood:

“Puwede namang sa Saturn na lang lumipat yung ibang tao pag napuno na sa Earth.”

Even in the movies, Belle could not, or would not accept the issue of death in the face. When both of us were watching the animated Pixar movie, Up, she resented both the facts that the two young parents were childless and that later in the first part of the movie, that Ellie would leave Carl due to old age. Belle cried buckets, like I shed naman a few tears. Couldn’t help it, for I remembered both my Lolo Fred and Lola Juaning. Belle a few days after made a resolve to put a more happy face in that part of the story and came with her own version.

I will type the handwritten words in verbatim:

Up II! (At may sequel na!)

Rusle is feeding Kevin chocolate and can you belive it Ellie and Carl have a baby and their playing with him and dog is running from the squirl!

THE END!

Notice the exclamation points for emphasis!

I remember when I was in high school, we were given a writing exercise in Filipino where we had to re-write the ending of Benjamin Pascual’s harrowing story of Ang Kalupi. I figured the errant and judgmental Aling Marta deserves to be brought to her knees and face a firing squad, but what I came up with on paper was a version that presented Aling Marta as a deeply remorseful and apologetic woman who was serious in atoning for her grave mistake.

The point of this whole blog has something to do with us mortals and our earnest desire to see life only in sugar-coated terms. If possible, and we pray hard at that, we only want to see a Hollywood ending to all things. We abhor, or maybe fear death, much as we resent the times changing for the worst. Belle of course felt the same way I did when I saw my old man engulfed in the smokes of his cigarette. She has a valid point when she told me that if God is really good, why does He allow suffering and death to happen?

Of course, when she grows up, she will seek and find the answers herself. I’m confident of that. For now, the only thing I can offer maybe, especially when she would present to me questions that seemed to come from a planet as far away as Saturn, was an answer with a wink, “I don’t know, honey. But if you’re willing, I’ll take this ride with you and let’s both try to find out.”

Astrid

Astrid's book Bayong ng Kuting. Her autograph reads: Para Kay Don, Love your pets! Enjoy the book! -Astrid. The night before I went to her wake, binasa ko ang kuwentong ito at bedtime sa aking mga anak - in tribute to the book's author.

Her last picture during the NCBD. This picture appeared in the August issue of PTS. L-R: Augie Rivera, Rhandee Garlitos, Zarah Gagatiga, and Astrid.

Astrid with her winsome smile, sabi nga ni Zarah - "The Jack Nicholson Smile". She won honorable mention in this edition of the NCBD held at the Cultural Center of the Philippines for her story, "Tatay's Photographs".

L-R: Astrid, Bong Oris, Raissa Falgui, Yas Ortiga, Mr. Sari Ortiga of Crucible Gallery and me.

***

I know this post is late, but sabi nga, better late than never. Mae Astrid Tobias, colleague and friend (kahit sa kaunting panahon lang) succumbed last August 23 from Lupus. 2006 pa lang ng Disyembre aware na akong may sakit siyang ganito dahil napag-usapan nila ni Tito Dok Gatmaitan habang nagkukuwentuhan kami during our Kuting Christmas party. That was the night when we first got introduced, kakarating lang niya from the Netherlands. Memorable din na ako ang nakakuha ng gift niya sa exchange gift – some delicious bars of Holland’s dark chocolates.

When Augie Rivera informed me na pumanaw na si Astrid that morning, can’t help but feel shocked and…depressed. Astrid’s talent and dedication to her craft was definitely formidable, and her achievements, enviable. Having churned out books after books and stories after stories in such a short span of time, she passed away na may ilan pang book projects na nakabinbin.

Nakakahinayang rin dahil nagsisimula pa lang talaga ang aming pagkakaibigan. I really felt that friendship started when she left a message in one of my blogs when it was my birthday:

Dear Don, I wish you all the best. Sana makamit mo ang iyong mga pangarap. Astrid.

The last time we met, magkatabi pa kaming nanood sa Cinemalaya 2009 ng Last Supper No.3 and Ang Panggagahasa Kay Fe – kung saan napag-usapan namin more or less ang merits and weaknesses of the aforementioned films. Napag-usapan rin namin ang kanyang dream project, ang “Kuting Night” where I honestly told her na mapapag-coat and tie mo kaya kaming mga boys? Sabi lang niya, “Sige, just tell me what’s on your mind. Makikinig ako.”

Masuwerte na lang at during Kuting’s GA last July, dinala ko ang kopya ko ng Bayong ng Kuting para makapag-pa-autograph sa kanya. During the last National Children’s Book Day rin na ginanap sa Marikina, bumili at nagpa-autograph ako sa kopya ko ng kanyang latest children’s book, ang Bakawan. Naalala kong tinanong niya sa akin while we were seated, “Don, buti nakarating ka? Sa South ka pa, di ba?” Ang sabi ko na lang, “Ako pa? Red letter day sa akin ang NCBD.” Kaya nga kahit sa dulo ng earth pa ang Marikina ng Las Piñas, nag-leave ako sa opisina para makadalo.

Nag-kodakan moments kami afterwards nang lumapit na sa amin ang fellow Kuting member at PBBY Salanga Grand Prize Winner na si Rhandee Garlitos. Pinagkaguluhan namin ang medallion niya. Kinuha pa nga ni Augie ang kanyang laptop at pinahid ang medalya ni Rhandee duon. It was such a funny moment. Actually hindi ko agad pinost ang pictures dahil plano kong ipakita sa kanila pag lumabas na ang isyu ng Pinoy Tayo Sanman, ang magazine na hinahawakan ko bilang editor. Sadly, hindi na umabot. Ipinost ko lang sa yahoogroups ng Kuting when Liwa asked us for pictures of her. Habang tinitignan ko ang picture, sinong mag-aakalang in a few days time eh iiwanan niya na pala tayo?

I can only encapsulate best what Pepper’s mom (Pepper was Astrid’s boyfriend), told everyone present during the eulogies during Astrid’s wake. It goes something like this: For us, Astrid was like a shooting star – she was gone too soon.

Salamat sa buhay at sa mga kuwento, Astrid!

***

Mae Astrid Tobias was a multi-awarded writer who won honors, among others, from the Palanca (Bayong ng Kuting) and the Philippine Board on Books for Young People (PBBY) awards (Ang Gulong ni Bong and Tatay’s Photographs). Her retellings of the Ifugao epic Hudhud, through her children’s books "Pumbakhayon" and "Halikpon" (published by the National Commission for Culture and the Arts), was a finalist in the 2006 National Book Awards for children’s literature and best book design. An expert in children and media, she obtained her training from the Radio Netherlands Training Center in the Netherlands. From 2003 to 2007, she served as Bureau Manager for the Kabataan News Network (KNN), a project of the Probe Foundation, Inc and UNICEF, training young children in developing and producing their own children’s news show. She also served as writer to the educational children’s show, Eskuwela ng Bayan, Sirit and Batang Bibbo.She also wrote and produced corporate communications and audio-visual presentations and develops web content. She also served as production assistant on Alak ng Bagong Tipan: Simbahan at Pagpapari, a documentary on Cardinal Sin’s contribution to the Church and priesthood.

From 2004 until 2006, she was President of the Kuwentista ng mga Tsikiting (KUTING), the Philippines’ premiere organization of Filipino professional writers for children.

Write-up based from http://www.creativeadvocacies.com/

Thank God for those little chicken soups.

Physically tired and mentally drained from finishing the first draft of a script at work (for a program I’m in charge of developing), I got home at around 8 p.m. feeling starved and aching to eat something ‘soupy’. Sabi ko nga, I’m the one person na parang hindi makakain nang masaya pag walang ‘sabaw’. Totoo. Even my two kids sa akin yata nagmana. Every time Joy would call us for lunch or dinner, you can almost always hear the question, either from me or Belle, or lately from Ivan, “May soup, Mama?”

But there was no soup, technically, the soup na hinihigop, on the table. Joy cooked pinakbet and an inadobong isda ( I forgot the name) con pruned kamias. I can’t complain. Nakadalawang plato ako sa sarap. But I’m getting a head of the story for this blog.

Naabutan ko si Joy helping Belle with her Geometry project. I was about to go straight to our room to change my clothes when Belle told me about a book she borrowed from the library earlier. “Papa, I will read to you something, naiyak ako.”

Belle just turned 9 last July 26, and since she started reading from the age of four if I’m not mistaken, this is the first time I hear her say na “naiyak ako.” Sure, Belle is “mababaw ang luha” when it comes to senti children’s movies, but “naiyak” because of a story she’d just read? I was curious to find out kung anong kuwento iyon.

While Joy was re-heating my dinner, I sat beside Belle while she read for me lines from the book called Chicken Soup for Little Souls: The Best Night Out With Dad. The story was adapted from “The Circus” by Dan Clark, and written by Lisa McCourt with illustrations by Bert Dodson. The story is about a young boy named Danny who just met a fellow young boy named Vincent at the entrance of the Circus gates. Both of the young boys were accompanied by their fathers, in what promises to be a wonderful night out. Danny is used to watching spectacles after spectacles from the circus show while this is going to be Vincent’s first. When it’s time to purchase the entrance tickets, Vincent’s dad was crestfallen because the coupon he presented to the ticket agent was no longer honored. In an instant, Vincent’s excitement evaporated into thin air. He was taken out of the line and he and his father started to walk away far from the gates. Danny was troubled. What would he do?

Belle read one of the first lines from page one and skipped to the last few pages, reading a bit fast but pausing for the dramatic lines to emphasize the crucial lines. I was half-paying attention as I smelled the food from the stove, their aroma almost intoxicating my starved stomach. But looking at Belle’s eyes as she read the lines with intensity and gusto, manghang-mangha ako. Yes, siguro nga I’m beginning to witness how advanced her reading comprehension is compared with mine when I was the same age. When I was nine, I only remember me still reading Aesop’s fables, a few Enid Blyton’s which I can’t hardly understand at all or the tales of Peter Rabbit. But here is my girl, immersing herself in a story ringing with paternal issues and social relevance.

Once I finished eating my dinner, agad kong binasa ang libro. Dahil sa pananaw ko, maaaring touching ang kuwento – pero nakakaiyak? But wait. Once I started reading the large-type book, it didn’t take ten minutes bago ako napasinghot at naiyak sa kuwento! Yeah, Belle’s vibe on the story was for real.

Kaya ako, hindi ko na inulit magbasa ng Chicken Soup series lalo na kapag nakapila ako sa may shuttle terminal sa labas ng village namin. Dahil one time, nakakatawa, habang nakatapat ako sa may Security Agency pa naman, dumaloy na lang basta ang luha ko. Siyempre hindi pinahalata, kunwari napuwing lang ako habang pasimpleng pinupunasan ang luha ko; at kunwari na rin, nililinis ko lang ang salamin ko. I just closed the book and stopped reading. Diyahe.

Nakakabilib din dahil itong Chicken Soup series ay ginawan na rin ng picture book version ng Scholastic. Ano kaya ang susunod, TV series?

Right now I’m really thankful dahil Belle is proving to be one of my staunchest critics when it comes to my first drafts. Siguro a few more months puwede ko nang ipabasa sa kanya ang mga ‘mushy’ children’s stories na nagawa ko noon – at hindi ko sasabihing ako ang nagsulat – at pag naiyak siya – I’ll be happy. J

One Day In Your Life

Something about this song from the late King of Pop always makes me lethargic and pretty sentimental. Up to now, it is a favorite selection in my music player. I'm not quite sure if this has something to do with my growing up as a kid in Kamuning, QC where it was always played on our old fashioned Hitachi stereo.

When my friends ask me, "Do you like Michael Jackson?" I always answer, "I'm not a fan. But I like his songs from his Jackson 5 years..." - and that includes Ben, I'll Be There, etc.

Here's the mushy and unapologetically sentimental piece that I love:

One day in your life you'll remember a place
Someone's touching your face
You'll come back and you'll look around you

One day in your life You'll remember the love you found here
You'll remember me somehow
Though you don't need me now I will stay in your heart

And when things fall apart
You'll remember one day...

One day in your life
When you find that you're always waiting
For the love we used to share
Just call my name
And I'll be there (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh...)

You'll remember me somehow
Though you don't need me now I will stay in your heart
And when things fall apart
You'll remember one day...
One day in your life
When you find that you're always longing for the love we used to share

Just call my name And I'll be there (Ohh...)

***

Thank you for the music, Michael J!