Friday, June 29, 2007

halfway to the finish line

With all the manuscript work and proofing done (you will not believe all the small edits and corrections - in fact, I'm tired of looking at my own stories, haha), and all the cover artwork completed (you'll see the answer to "to cartouche or not to cartouche"), along with a photo by Benjie Ordonez, the most time-consuming part of the process is done.

Getting blurbs is the next step for "The Kite of Stars and Other Stories". Anvil sent copies of the collection to other authors (some I know, some I don't know) and I dealt with my pinoy sense of "nakakahiya naman" and asked two international spec fic writers I admired- and they said yes. What these blurbs will actually say is something I wait for with bated breath.

This reminds me of a joke the LitCritters have about the odd blurbs that you read on certain books, you know, the one with ellipses in the quotation. So something that reads:

"...an amazing book...cannot...put it down!"
-Gaudencio Rivera

Which sounds positive, could actually be derived from:

"What possessed the author to think that this is an amazing book is beyond me. I cannot say how much I reviled it. If you somehow have been cursed to have it in your hands, find a way to put it down!"
-Gaudencio Rivera

Sana naman hindi ganoon, haha.

After the blurbs come in, the final layout for the cover will be completed, along with the ISBN, barcode and other little things. By then, the lay out of the actual pages should be done.

We're looking at a late August release, in time for the Book Fair.

Fingers crossed, of course.

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Thursday, June 28, 2007

critiquing mcferrin

Sage, Nikki and I were in bed, just lounging around and listening to the tunes pumped out by my iPod via the new speakers my girls got me for Father's Day.

After a soulstirring singalong with Chantal Kreviazuk (my daughter and I love "These Days"), Bobby McFerrin started singing 1989's Song of Year "Don't Worry, Be Happy".

It was the first time Sage heard the song and she sat up, listening intently, with a strange expression on her face.

Don't Worry, Be Happy
Don't Worry, Be Happy
Don't Worry, Be Happy

After the second verse and the second chorus, she stood up on the bed and shouted:

SAGE: Enough! I'm not worried! I have other feelings too!

And that, my friends, is what my 5 year-old thinks about mindless optimism.

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Wednesday, June 27, 2007

writing bravely

Nikki's interview is up on PinoyCentric.

(And yes, I'm the luckiest man in the world!)

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Tuesday, June 26, 2007

avenue q

And speaking of plays, how I can possibly resist the Philippine production of the Tony Award-winning musical Avenue Q (thanks for the heads up, Benj)?

The Atlanis Production staging opens in September, directed by Bobby Garcia.

Gibbs Cadiz has the details here.

"The internet is for porn."

Oh, yes LOL

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writing more + virgin labfest3

The older generation of writers remember a time when they didn't describe themselves so specifically. They simply wrote what they wanted (or what was needed) and treated themselves and their comrades-in-letters simply as writers - very much unlike today, where a kind of specialization, in terms of writerly taxonomy, seems to be prevalent. Nowadays, we have people who are almost strictly poets and who communicate chiefly with other poets in matters of craft and poetry appreciation. We have communities of authors who primarily develop stories for children, who push the growth and advancement of their field of interest. We have specialists in the short story, in folk/fairy tales (modern or otherwise), essayists (or writers of creative non-fiction), and so on.

It almost seems as if the lesson somehow ingrained over the years is "find what you're good at and stick to it". But apart from the entire artificial nature of the divide (artificial in that one seems to be discouraged to try something outside one's comfort zone or whatever it is one's writerly clique is writing), the argument for focus sounds reasonable. After all, in "real life" one goes to university to specialize in a trade, and mostly, we follow a career when we graduate. Or so we are led to believe, ideally (imagine the horror of our parents, when, after sending us to medical school and supporting us through the years of study, we decide, after everything, to become a web designer).

I think it is healthy to write in other modes, to develop new texts out of one's comfort zone, to try your hand at something else. Some would tell me, "I'd rather concentrate on prose - when I get right, then I'll write a novel or a poem or a play". But when do we get things "right"? The wait may take longer than one realizes. In my case, for the longest time, I considered myself "only" a playwright.

I started out writing plays. I love the flow of dialogue, the stricture of structure and how I get to bend things, the sense of immediacy and the two-tiered aspect to a play's birthing: first, the act of writing it; second, the act of staging it and making it more than just closet drama. In my college days, I gravitated toward people of similar interests and became an actor. After college, I worked with Lito Casaje in Dramatis Personae and with Bibot Amador in Repertory Philippines. Theater is magical, just like the act of writing.

As I grew older, I tried my hand at different things, to varying degrees of personal and aesthetic satisfaction: short stories, comic books, film, the novel, speculative fiction (sadly, I still cannot write a poem to save my life - but I did try). But I have always had a soft spot for drama, and I appreciate the work that modern Filipino dramatists are doing (the LitCritters, in fact, try to catch plays at Rep or the CCP from time to time). Philippine literature grows by the creative efforts of all its disciplines - in the same way that a single writer grows by writing different things in different modes.

So, go and try your hand at play, if you haven't.

And this is a perfect time to invite you to attend the Virgin Labfest3 at the CCP, put together by Allan Lopez and our friends in the Writers Bloc.

Now on its 3rd year, the Virgin Labfest opens this June 28 and will run until July 8, 2007 at the Cultural Center of the Philippines. The Virgin Labfest (VLF), a festival of new plays (untried, untested, unpublished and unstaged) by both emerging and well-known playwrights, directors and actors, is now enthusiastically looked forward to by artists and audiences alike.

This year's festival boasts a repertoire of 15 short plays in five trilogies as the main exhibition list. One of the trilogies features contributions of playwrights from Thailand, Singapore and Japan. Another independently produced trilogy of plays has been added to the festival-totalling the entire festival to a treat of 18 short plays. Full-length plays will also be featured in a series of dramatic readings at the Tanghalang Aurelio Tolentino.

Tickets to the Virgin Labfest are at P200 (for plays to be shown at the Tanghalang Huseng Batute & Bulwagang Amado Hernandez) and "Pay What You Can" (for play readings at the Tanghalang Aurelio Tolentino). For more details, please contact Tanghalang Pilipino at 832-3661, or the CCP Box Office at 832-3704.

Visit the website for schedules and details.

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Monday, June 25, 2007

litcritters open

We held the first open LitCritters session at A Different Bookstore at Serendra last Saturday. Thanks to everyone who joined us - Nina, AR, Maryanne, Zarah, Elyss, Miggy, and Kyu.

We had a great time talking about the stories and writing and, as with the best conversations, we spun talk across different topics and issues. It's important to me that we do more than just write - that we talk and interact as readers and writers. While writing is done in isolation, the writing life need not be so solitary. We grow with the insight of other readers and writers, after all. The LitCritters will be there again in the first and third weeks of July (that's July 7 and 21) - so join us and bring a friend or two.

This week:

The Spellweaver's Tale by Michael Jones
The Black Phone by Joe Hill
When the Dragon Falls by Patrick Samphire
The Woman in Schrodinger's Wave Equations by Eugene Mirabelli


Next week (LitCritters open at A Different Bookstore) - July 7, 2007

Don Ysidro by Bruce Holland Roers
At Merienda by Maryanne Moll
The Remember by Aimee Bender
A Siege of Cranes by Benjamin Rosenbaum


Last week:

The Plague of Doves by Louise Erdrich
Impossible Dreams by Tim Pratt
L'Alchimista by N.K. Jemisin
The Butler Didn't Do It by Maria Lima


**The LitCritters is a reading and writing group based in Manila, as well as in Dumaguete. Every week, we read and discuss several pieces of short fiction from various genres from different writers with the goal of expanding our reading horizons, improving our ability to critique, and learning how to write from the good texts. In addition to speculative fiction, we read Philippine literature in English, as well as world literature.

For those who'd like to join us: first, sign up for the LitCritter mailing list so you can access the archives of readings. Next, read all the stories for the week. Then, join one of our open sessions at A Different Bookstore at Serendra, Bonifacio High Street every 1st and 3rd Saturday of the month.We'd love to have you there.

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Thursday, June 21, 2007

umbrella

(ella) (ella) (e) (e) (e) (e)

I should have brought one.

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Tuesday, June 19, 2007

subs and pokemon

After a very frustrating quest for International Reply Coupons, I can at last send off fiction that I've been sitting on for some time. Most of the US magazines require hard copy submissions accompanied by a SASE and the IRC. And since the IRCs expire in 6 months and are seemingly only available at the Lawton post office in Manila, I never have them around.

So "Strange Weather" is off, and once I am done with the final edits, another story (still untitled) will follow suit.

Locally, I've just subbed 3 stories to two editors for a pair of anthos. One of them, I think, is the shortest story I've written, "Something Like That".

We'll see if any of these stories are accepted. If not, I'll polish some more and send elsewhere. Or write new ones.

But I still have several stories I need to start/write/complete on my plate, for anthos and magazines here and abroad. It's been a bitch to sit down and write, with the heat and all - but I must confess that I am truly distracted by the need to complete my Pokedex (it's impossible, impossible). And with Pokemon Diamond and Pearl available, my resolve not to buy a Nintendo DS weakens day by day.

Why, why, why am I possessed by the need to collect them all?

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Monday, June 18, 2007

litcritters

This Week:
(discuss these stories with us at A Different Bookstore's Serendra Branch at Bonifacio High Street this Saturday at 4PM)

The Plague of Doves by Louise Erdich
Impossible Dreams by Tim Pratt
L'Alchimista by N.K. Jemisin
The Butler Didn't Do It by Maria Lima

Next Week:

The Spellweaver's Tale by Michael Jones
The Black Phone by Joe Hill
When the Dragon Falls by Patrick Samphire
The Woman in Schrodinger's Wave Equations by Eugene Mirabelli

Last Week:

Hanwell Senior by Zadie Smith
Higher Orders by John Bengan
Love is the Plan and the Plan is Death by James Tiptree, Jr.
City of Chimera by Richard Bowes

The Tiptree was tops - mindblowing, consistent and provocative. The Smith was tightly written, an excellent example of character-building using both broad strokes and details (go and read her award-winning novel "On Beauty"). The Bowes left me cold and the Bengan did not deliver.

**The LitCritters is a reading and writing group based in Manila, as well as in Dumaguete. Every week, we read and discuss several pieces of short fiction from various genres from different writers with the goal of expanding our reading horizons, improving our ability to critique, and learning how to write from the good texts. In addition to speculative fiction, we read Philippine literature in English, as well as world literature.

For those who'd like to join us, first, sign up for the LitCritter mailing list (which is basically me sending the readings once a week). Next, read all the stories for the week. Then, join one of our open sessions at A Different Bookstore at Serendra, Bonifacio High Street (the first one is on Saturday, June 23, 4PM).

We'd love to have you there.

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Sunday, June 17, 2007

father's day

Waking up to Sage, standing with a smile, offering her painting with the words "I love you, Dad".

Sitting up in bed, opening (what I presumed to be) small token Father's Day gifts from wife and daughter, and instead being completely surprised by new earphones and speakers for my iPod.

Swimming in the pool upstairs with Sage, pretending to be floating on the sea of dreams as we make up wishes for our magical friends (and saddened by the fact that of the other six or so kids in the pool, none were with their dads).

Bookhunting at night, then reducing my P4000 pile of books to zero as I struck Mr. Impulse-Buying down.

Eating tuyo, eggs and fresh lumpia at Via Mare in the company of my small family, watching my daughter take pictures of everything and everyone but us, haha.

Watching a bit of TV before falling asleep, my wife next to me, my daughter already dreaming about her first day of school tomorrow.

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Friday, June 15, 2007

radio, print, web

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Yesterday, Vin and I did a radio interview long with Kenneth Yu, publisher of the Digest of Philippine Genre Stories. The DJs of Mellow 94.7 were a hoot. Read the transcript here, courtesy of Charles. We had great fun talking about writing and speculative fiction (and yes, we need to get the word out to more readers and writers). The photo? It's Vin as Iron Man regretting all his Civil War hijinks.

Nikki's latest story "In the Absence of Eternity" appears in the anthology "Sawi", edited by Ada J. Loreno, BJ A. Patino, and Rica Bolipata-Santos. The book, available now in various bookstores, also features fiction, creative non-fiction and poetry from a whole lot of people including Jimmy Abad, Cesar Aquino, Ian Casocot, Kristine Fonacier, Cyan Abad-Jugo, Apol Lejano, Merlie Alunan, Guillermo Persigan, Carla Pacis, Naya Valdellon and more.

My story "The Dragon in the Bell" appears in next week's issue of Philippines Free Press.

Speaking of Philippines Free Press, I'd like to encourage everyone to go and submit your speculative fiction pieces to the magazine. Literary Editor Sarge Lacuesta happily dismisses notions of genre (so no need to conform to the perceived need for realism) . Sarge, along with Kenneth of PGS and Jade Bernas of Story Philippines (check out O. Bryan Alvarez's "The Chain Letter Siege" in the latest issue), is open to the literature of wonder, so write a story and send it off.

And if you haven't yet, check out the Read or Die and Philippine Speculative Fiction blogs.

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Thursday, June 14, 2007

from the abecedary

d = deanie

My mother claims that I wrote my first play in second grade. Since she is my mother, I must hold her words with suspicion, always asking if what she says is true or if, like all mothers, what she says is motivated by a surplus of love and pride. People tend to exaggerate when offspring is involved, and truth becomes malleable. Parents look to their children as extensions of their own lives, like annexes and wings added to an old house. There is no other home, that’s the lesson repeatedly but gently inculcated into your soul, as ubiquitous as the smells of childhood.

When I try to think back to second grade, to see if my memory holds any recollection of actually writing a play, these are what I remember: a little boy in his grade school uniform, polo short and khaki shorts; a wheeled stroller for his schoolbag; an electric pair of scissors in the form of Snoopy, that beagle with the most fertile imagination; the library with its low, low shelves; and the chapel of St. Benilde at De La Salle University along Taft Avenue in Manila, simultaneously dark and colorful, its stained glass straining the bright sunlight into subdued hues. I don’t remember any names or faces, any teachers or classmates or bus drivers. And certainly no act of writing a play.

“Are you calling me a liar?” my mother asks, firing the first salvo in a question-and-answer that held the usual potential of swiftly escalating into full-blown combat. She’s tall and ageless, still in command of her beauty queen looks, despite all the illnesses that plague her. “I can remember better than you. You were just a kid.”

“I don’t remember anything,” I say, trying to keep my composure, though, as usual, I feel my control slipping. As I grew to adulthood, I realized that I was superb handling other people, falling into easy dialogue exchanges. But with my mother, I was always at the edge of losing it. Already I felt my temper rising. “Besides, it’s my life.”

“Your life?” my mother asks, slowly standing up with pained dignity. “Your life?”

“Well,” I begin. “That’s not how I meant it.”

“And just who paid for your education? Who sacrificed to send you to the best, the most expensive school? Who paid for your books, your uniform, your meal tickets, your school supplies? Who worked night and day to raise funds for your newspaper drives, your yearbook, all those terrible little papers you’d bring home requesting for money, donations, funding—as if we had it all to spare? Who worried about you? Who looked after you? Who fed you, clothed you, bought you books and toys—”

“Okay, okay,” I interrupt her litany, raising my hands in the air, signaling my surrender. It is a war that I cannot possibly win, unless I use the same tactics with my own daughter when I’m feeling old, unappreciated and feisty.

“I did,” she sniffs, tearful and imperious. “It was my life that made your life. Do not forget that.”
“Ma! All I’m saying is that I don’t remember writing a play when I was in Grade Two.”

“Well, I do,” she says, turning away from me. “And I can prove it. Imagine! Calling his own mother a liar.”

She returns moments later, holding an old photograph the size of a large index card. Before she shows it to me, I sense her checking to see if I’m contrite. Amused by the never-ending parent-child game we play, I feign abasement and humbly ask for her evidence.

“It’s your class picture when you were second grade, at De La Salle,” she says, and flips the picture over before I register more than a blur of small smiling faces. “Look at the back. That’s your handwriting.”

It was. Written in my curly childish penmanship was a scene, brief but chockfull of dialogue, featuring Captain Deanie, a spaceship captain returning from his sojourn in deep space. It was simple and garish and trite and wonderful beyond words.

And of course my mother cannot resist a final jab towards her flawless victory. “See, I was right. You should listen to your mother more often. I know what I’m talking about.”

I look up towards her, torn between my rediscovered sense of wonder and exasperation, searching frantically for a comeback, a witty retort to the woman who always manages to subdue me in conversation. But she’s not quite finished.

“I always knew you were a writer.”


s = significance

One of the most frustrating aspects of being a Filipino writer (and blogger) is the unspoken edict to be nationalistic. This is reflected in many ways—as a bias against writing in English (why use the language of the oppressor?), selection of setting (why set your story outside of the Philippines?), choice of subject matter (why write of anyone but Filipinos; why write of any place other than your country?), need for socio-political relevance (what is the value of writing that does not show injustice, inequality, suffering, poverty and the plight of the masses?), and significance (why waste time and energy on something that does not promote societal betterment?).

I'm just tired of it.

I write in English because I can express myself better. I do not buy into the argument that writing in a "foreign" language is somehow selling out. English is not foreign to me, is not foreign to millions of Filipinos. And Rizal wrote in Spanish. You do not measure nationalism by the language you speak, write or think in. It is a matter of the heart, of belief, of intellect.

I set some stories outside of the Philippines because the world and all its wonders interest me. There is nothing fundamentally wrong in setting a story in a castle in Denmark, a lagoon in India or a farm in Kansas. Choice of setting does not make an author love his country any less. Besides, there are worlds beyond the real world, created lands of make-believe that cartwheel in splendor and magic. I am a citizen of the Philippines, but my allegiance is to the World—words and worlds share porous boundaries.

I write about different people, not just Filipinos. What matters is character, the moods and modes of thought and action, the inner workings of their secret hearts. Nationality, like religion, gender or race, is not as important as the person underneath all the labels. To write only about Filipinos is as distasteful to me as a white writer writing only about whites. Let us write about people instead.

I write about love and loss, about hope and despair, about magic and reality. It is not my responsibility to write about social injustice, to cry for the political prisoners languishing in jails, to expose the horrors of the corrupt government, to generate sympathy for comfort women, to depict the marginalization of women—though in my early leftist college days, I did all that—publishing stories about all those things in a voice that wasn't my own, that left me with beautiful stories bristling with technique but bereft of authorial truth. There are many things to write about. Let me choose the stories I'd like to tell. Let me speak the truth I know, the truth that matters to me.

And as for significance, well, while words do have the potential to change the world, they do not do so with each and every outing. Some stories, the quiet, little ones, offer a moment of epiphany. Some proffer a smile of recognition. Others hold up a mirror and point out something so transparent as an observation of the human condition. Some entertain—through adventurous romps, battles and clever twists—while some make you cry. It is the reader and not the author who creates significance.

The nature of stories is this: change comes in infinite sizes. The success of a story is not measured in how it changes the world but in how, for the duration of the reading experience and perhaps beyond, it affects the reader.

That is what makes it significant.


Excerpted from Writing: A Blog Abecedary By Dean Francis Alfar
First published in Our Own Voice

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Wednesday, June 13, 2007

litcritters

This Week:

Hanwell Senior by Zadie Smith
Higher Orders by John Bengan
Love is the Plan and the Plan is Death by James Tiptree, Jr.
City of Chimera by Richard Bowes


Next Week:

The Plague of Doves by Louise Erdich
Impossible Dreams by Tim Pratt
L'Alchimista by N.K. Jemisin
The Butler Didn't Do It by Maria Lima


Last Week:

How to Talk to Girls at Parties by Neil Gaiman
Bodywork by Hari Kunzru
Lucky Chow Fun by Lauren Groff
Why I Am Not Gorilla Girl by Daniel Starr

I was very impressed by the Groff, with its nuanced characters and high level of texture - there is a small scene involving the leavetaking of the narrator's father that is one of the most moving bits of the story. The Starr was a hilarious gem, held together by the powerful consistent voice of the narrator (a 13-year old girl who wishes to be a Prisoner of Love, not a Prisoner of Conscience). The Kunzru got all of us speculating on just what happened to the wife of the protagonist, while the Gaiman, beautifully written and observed as usual, fell flat around the ending, when the delicious ambiguity was replaced by a more pedestrian sense of "no, this is what happened". All in, a great week for short fiction. Lots to learn.

The LitCritters is a reading and writing group based in Manila, as well as in Dumaguete. Every week, we read and discuss several pieces of short fiction from various genres from different writers with the goal of expanding our reading horizons, improving our ability to critique, and learning how to write from the good texts. In addition to speculative fiction, we read Philippine literature in English, as well as world literature.

For those who'd like to join us, first, sign up for the LitCritter mailing list (which is basically me sending the readings once a week). Next, read all the stories for the week. Then, join one of our open sessions at A Different Bookstore at Serendra, Bonifacio High Street (the first one is on Saturday, June 23, 4PM).

We'd love to have you there.

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open litcrit sessions at a different bookstore

In an effort to accommodate readers and writers who want to participate in the LitCritter sessions, we have formalized arrangements with A Different Bookstore to hold open LitCritter sessions at their Serendra branch every 1st and 3rd Saturday of the month, at 4PM.

We invite you to join us there.

During these sessions, you are welcome to meet and greet, sit, exchange notes and discuss the stories with us, along with anyone you wish to bring with you (by all means bring a friend or two). But please please make sure you've read all the stories we are discussing.

Our first open session is scheduled for Saturday, June 23, 2007 at 4PM.

These stories, all available on the LitCritters Google Group archive for download for reading purposes only, are:

The Plague of Doves by Louise Erdich
Impossible Dreams by Tim Pratt
L'Alchimista by N.K. Jemisin
The Butler Didn't Do it by Maria Lima

The formal address of the venue is:

A Different Bookstore
10-11 G/F Serendra, Bonifacio High Street
Bonifacio Global City, Taguig City

Phone: (632) 9095078/(632) 8560330

Kindly spread the word - and see you there next Saturday!

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Wednesday, June 06, 2007

litcritters

This Week:

How to Talk to Girls at Parties by Neil Gaiman
Bodywork by Hari Kunzru
Lucky Chow Fun by Lauren Groff
Why I Am Not Gorilla Girl by Daniel Starr

Next Week:

Hanwell Senior by Zadie Smith
Higher Orders by John Bengan
Love is the Plan and the Plan is Death by James Tiptree, Jr.
City of Chimera by Richard Bowes


Last Week:

Clockmaker's Requiem by Barth Anderson
Different Flesh by Claude Lalumiere
Zilkowski's Theorem by Karl Iagnemma
Meteorite Mountain by Cao Xue

I enjoyed the Anderson the most, delighting in the taut and inventive writing. The Iagnemma was a wonderful read as well - the characters are so well defined and the emotions believable (he has another interesting story, "The Phrenologist's Dream").

I'm deeply indebted to Veronica Montes for sharing Cao Xue's story with the LitCritters. This dense and peculiar text provoked much discussion and speculation among us, including the need for a cultural context when reading certain works to better appreciate them.

The LitCritters is a small reading and writing group based in Manila, as well as in Dumaguete. Every week, we read and discuss several pieces of short fiction from various genres from different writers with the goal of expanding our reading horizons, improving our ability to critique, and learning how to write from the good texts. In addition to speculative fiction, we read Philippine literature in English, as well as world literature.

Once in a blue moon, we are requested to conduct writing workshops (such as our recent 3-weekend stint at A Different Bookstore), and are planning to hold a more formal one, maybe next summer, as schedules and realities of life permit. For those who'd like to join us, we recommend participating in one of the workshops, or signing up for the LitCritter mailing list (which is basically me sending the readings once a week). We also accept the occasional sit-in (when we conduct sessions in restos or cafes). If you'd like to be on the mailing list or want to sit in on one of our sessions, email me at deanalfar(at)gmail(dot)com.

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Tuesday, June 05, 2007

some updates

film

One of my plays, "Short Time", is getting the film treatment, under the director of Rico Guiterrez. My original material, written a long time ago, was translated from English to Filipino by Augie Rivera (who did such an incredible job, updating the references to reflect a more current sensibility).

I'm delighted this is happening and will probably drop by the set to see how Direk Rico does his magic.


radio

It seems I'll be on the air sometime in the next couple of weeks to talk about speculative fiction and writing as one of the contributors to the Digest of Philippine Genre Stories.

The last time I was on air was - I think - when we spoke about Siglo: Freedom and Siglo: Passion and comic books, with Nautilus Comics head honcho Jaime Bautista.


story

One of my stories, "Into the Morning", is scheduled to appear in issue # 252 of Bewildering Stories next month.

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Friday, June 01, 2007

lionheart

Toothaches are part of growing up, but after Sage's visit to the dentist I was in shock. The dentist told us that my 5 year old needed two root canals.

ME: What?

ME (thought balloon): E di ba milk teeth lang yan? Di ba hindi pa permanent tooth yan? Bakit hindi nalang bunutin? Why save a milk tooth? Bakit nung panahon ko hindi ganyan? Kawawa naman ang anak ko. Di ba masakit yan? At magkano naman yan?


Nikki told me that the reason was to prevent future misalignment of permanent teeth, so that Sage would not need braces. Also that we had two options: first, the "traditional way" which costs P8,100. And second, the "painless way" which involves general anesthesia and an additional P17,000.

ME: What?

ME (thought balloon): Ha? Grabe naman! Para namang joke na hindi nakakatawa. Baka raket yan? P24k para sa root canal ng bata?


Nikki got a second opinion and the opinion was the same.

ME: What?

ME (thought balloon): Siguro sindikato itong mga dentista na ito.


Nikki says with the second dentist, the cost is lower - P5000.

ME: What?

ME (thought balloon): .... Sige.


Being the dentally-traumatized part of the Alfar couple (my youth involved kicking a dentist, punching a dentist, shouting at a dentist - all of which bring me deep deep shame), I stayed back while Nikki held Sage's hand. Later, she told me it was good that I didn't see the blood collecting in Sage's mouth (Nikki was so tense with her maternal instincts on fire, wanting to punch the dentist for "hurting" our daughter).

But it was lionhearted Sage who was the hero of the day, braving the injections into her gums and comporting herself with more dignity than I ever had in a dentist's chair. She's a courageous little girl, I tell you.

Later, she told me how painful it was but how she knew she needed it, before telling me with a smile how her mouth was still numb.

SAGE: Dad, look! My mouth doesn't remember how to close right!

ME: What?

ME (thought balloon): Aba! Ididimanda ko ang dentista na yan! Sasampa tayo ng sakdal! Mga kapitbahay! Naparalyze ang anak ko!

NIKKI: It's just the topical anesthetic, husband.

SAGE: Numb, snumb, shnumb!

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