This post is a part of our story-by-story review of Philippine Speculative Fiction volume 6. You can see the introductory post, and our disclaimers here. Bold font is Mia Tijam, everything else is Paolo Chikiamco.

Except for a jolting transition after the 3^rd paragraph on the first page and “dull thud” making my bell wince, I found the story smooth, short, and sweet. There were still cliché phrases but this story showed when such articulation is just appropriate like in the usage of “woke with a start” or “…looked at him uncomprehendingly”. Because to do otherwise would make the story’s language suddenly turning verbose. Though the latter is still kind of making me wince given that it is an isolated line and therefore draws implied significance.

What I enjoyed craft-wise in this story was the ability of the author to hone in on very specific environmental/sensory details in order to give more reality and particularity to a scene. “…[s]troked the space between the inside of the elbow and the surgical tape that held the tube down…” If you’ve been in the hospital much/recently, you know exactly where that spot is. Another: “There was a smell of old coffee beans and spiders lurking in corners.” (I’d like to think that last is intentionally ambiguous.)

— Man you haven’t been to old houses in the provinces much, huh? There’s a smell exactly like that in bodegas (or what we call in Bicol as zaguan). Can also be smelled in old aparadors. Think of the smell of old spiders as a thicker smell of dust, add that smell of coffeebeans, et voila! C’est par la:  It doesn’t make you sneeze.

[Pao: Our “ancestral home”, so to speak, is on a farm. I guess the spider smell was overpowered by the chicken poop, er, coop.]

One thing that bothered me about the opening scene–I’ve mentioned this before–is the non-identification of the POV character with a proper noun until the third paragraph. As I said, maybe it’s a bias from my time in the slush fields, but if basic information is withheld from me, I expect it to have been done for a reason, and there didn’t seem to be any need not to just say “So Simeon woke with a start…” (And I don’t think you sacrifice in media res by a clear identity.)

— Double-checked that. The way I see it, if proper noun were used in the first paragraph, the beginning would lose that sensation of emerging from sleep. The use of proper noun would make the POV too conscious, because as it is the POV’s panning from internal subconscious to waking to groggy alertness.

[Pao: Ah, I see your point. But then why not introduce it in the second paragraph? Protagonist seems fully aware by then.]

Another thing was that the “search” scenes in the house seemed a bit too blow-by-blow to me (particularly the last paragraph on the first page), but that’s likely just because it stands in contrast to most of the rest of the story. It increased tension in a way that didn’t seem to be warranted by the emotional state of the POV character at the time–there was no indication that he believed he’d find anything ominous there.

—  Dude, it’s the device used to move the story along.

[Pao: But there are other styles that would have been less jarring, and achieve the same level of progression. For me it was like a movie entering slow-motion for no real reason.]

Anyway, I think this is a children’s story for all ages and I’m liking reading children’s stories nowadays. Maybe it’s having children in the family that makes me want to read stories which I can read to/with them (because apparently Einstein’s Theory of Relativity or Spinoza’s Ethics or even the confessional poets are not recommended reading for toddlers hahahaha.) I once asked my elder niece to read Gemino H. Abad’s “Discourse on Language” last year before she turned 5. She struggled over the word “susurrus” and asked what it (all) meant. I told her that it’s a question of most people.

I don’t know if you’re the best or most sadistic Aunt ever. Or both.

— Hahahaha.

I haven’t tried reading “Go The Fuck To Sleep” to/with a kid though. Maybe I should hahaha.

Just use the Samuel L. Jackson version. Shaft!

— Haha now Shaft is swinging that purple light saber in my head.

Anyway I’m thinking that my 7 and 6-year-old pamangkids would be interested to read Paterno’s story.

I actually don’t know if I’d consider this a children’s story myself. I’ve always found the Star Maiden myth to gloss over some pretty important issues regarding coercion, and while the story sidesteps them a bit by adding an (initial) element of voluntariness, there’s still enough of the original myth left for me to put this firmly in the adult realm.

— Well, my almost-4-year-old niece was watching Easy A with me last Christmas and she told me that I should wear that A so that I get a boyfriend. So I’m gonna wait for the day Meia turns 4 and she would say “Wazzup bitches!” Seriously, the children of 2020 are little adults nowadays, good luck to you daddy-yo haha.

[Pao: Oh, she can be an adult whenever she wants. As long as she does it in her safe little bubble. ]

Anyway, I like how the story’s language had a balance between short expositions and longer descriptions as the story moved along. It showed the experience of the author when it comes to crafting narration according to breaths or when it comes to sustaining the attention of the eye/mind.

Except for what I felt was over-description in the scene I mentioned, I agree with you on this. The story reads like it was written with confidence.

The beginning alone would hook in the reader, beautiful opening line of an in media res. This one’s memorable though it cannot beat yet that (opening) line of “Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always wanted to kill a beautiful boy.” I forget the title/author of that story.

I like the image it gives, but I think it’d have been better split in two, but that’s just a stylistic quirk.

I like how the son’s character was crafted with restraint— especially given that supposedly emotional mother&son scene on page 59— and how this restraint was shown throughout the story.

Yes, the author did a good job of portraying emotion without descending into pure sentiment, but there were times (the last page) that this restraint came at the cost of dialogue that sounded rehearsed/unnatural, somewhat stilted.

— Ano ba, drama nga eh.

[Pao: Sure, I get that, but the dialogue didn’t seem natural to me, coming form someone in that position/emotional state. Too filled with information/reflection rather than emotion--this could have been contextualized to make it seem natural for the protag, but it just didn’t seem that way to me here.]

And I don’t know why Simeon felt the need to suddenly explain his vocation–but, ah, I think you have something to say about that…

Me? Nah, not really hahaha.

Just that the whole time I was reading the story I was going “Aaaaawwwww…” and then came my “…Crap!” when the son revealed that he was a film maker. Another “Protagonist is Artist” story. St. Jude save me from more of those. (My mother will be so happy that I’m calling on a saint haha.) Because it’s just really going against my desire for the “Great Filipino Story in English” that does NOT have the writer/painter/musician/any “artist” as the model/symbol/savior/protagonist of the Filipino Narrative.

Why can’t he just be a guy, just a guy na puedeng tubero, bank teller, security guard na naging call center agent, manong sweet driver lover, can even be a franchise owner of 7-11 who was an ex-seaman, and not have to be “special” that way? Somebody that the reading mass would really be able to identify with, that would represent the Real in the Speculative.

I see where you’re coming from, and it’s a very common thing, but I don’t see that as a bad thing per se, especially given that a more basic question to ask would be if the story was at all being aimed at “the reading mass” or at any sort of specific audience even, because without that consideration, then there’s really no great negative to sticking with that particular trope.

Ay, tsk, yun lang. Norvasc! Valium! On with the Speculative Revolution!

This post is a part of our story-by-story review of Philippine Speculative Fiction volume 6. You can see the introductory post, and our disclaimers here. Bold font is Mia Tijam, everything else is Paolo Chikiamco.

This is a story by a (publishing) virgin… Congratulations young dude, you are not a virgin anymore! And you win the award for the most marked so far (see http://aremantha.blogspot.com/2011/11/rhum-coke-night.html#more for exhibit A, first page. You should see pages 48 and 50.) Let’s start with the POV: the “I” here is a schizo, it swings from and to—

A) I-as-3rd-person omniscient (the “I” speaks like the narrator)

B) I-as-1st-person-limited (the “I” speaks of internal reality/train-of-thought/the character)

C) I-as-Author (it’s the author unaware that he has become the storyteller acting as the storyteller with an “I”)

Examples:

A)    The first line of the story; in fact, the first couple of paragraphs in the story.

B)     Page 46, after the first Click, the lot of those paragraphs.

C)    Once the furor died down. See that’s the language/vocabulary of the author, not the “I” character.

What say you, Counsel?

For me, this was overshadowed by other concerns during the first reading, but on second reading I see that schism, though I’d conflate (A) and (C) into one–not sure that I know enough about the POV character to have a firm grasp about what is or is not in his vocabulary. (Though that’s not to say some word choices didn’t jar me – the use of reclusion perpetua, for instance, since that’s a legal term that doesn’t gel well with an “eternity” of punishment…)

— It’s the difference in the constructs of the “I”. Think of I as A, B, C— these are three different characters/realities/perspectives. The problem then is that the story is using “I” and an “I” intrinsically will only have one identity unfolding that identity’s reality. But the “I” here is playing Holy Trinity, hahahaha.

It’s less of a POV issue for me, as it is an immersion issue.

— Dude, POV is immersion. Latter is dependent on former. How in the world can a reader be immersed in the story without the POV?

[Pao: You need a POV for any story of course, but I think you can be immersed in a story with a mishandled POV. I don't think it'll happen often, but it is possible, if the thoughts/reactions that the reader is shown remain authentic.]

I didn’t see instances where the text was giving me information that the POV character wouldn’t have. I don’t see much of a problem with a 1st person POV being used both to narrate external events and give us a survey of an internal thought-stream, but my problem was that, with the first scene in particular, the distance of the “I” from the immediate events was inappropriate given the nature of the scene.

— Hence I as (A) = inappropriate. I as (A) would be objective reality. I as (B) would be subjective reality. I = A : B = Dudong you’re being burned alive and hindi ka umaaray? Oh right, you’re narrating the burning kasi so dapat hindi ka maglupasay sa sakit because you won’t be coherent. Grabe naman the tolerance for pain this dudong!

But it can happen and does happen, you know. Amid the overwhelming emotions in the midst of pain, one can experience a psychological detachment that leads to objectivity which enables one to narrate such events. Think of the movie “Equilibrium”.

[Pao: Holy crap, I thought Shaps and I were the only people to watch that movie. That's the one with Christian Bale and the two second climactic battle right? And sure, it does happen, but like most things out of the ordinary, it's hard to spring out of the blue without proper groundwork, or an explanation after the fact (something to the effect that it has happened so often that the character is desensitized), none of which I felt I got here.]

A situation wherein the POV character is undergoing torture, virtual though it may be, isn’t really the time for a distant “I” that trades the immediacy of physical sensation for a more neutral tone that allows the “I” to reflect on the Father and Mother constructs. It just struck the wrong tone with me.

— Precisely my point. The “I” being a schizo affects the believability of the narrative. Unless the author is experimenting with “I” as a camera that pans in and out of POV’s so as to move the story along and if that’s the case then apparently it has failed. Because if he had succeeded then we wouldn’t be seeing the schizo schims.

[Pao: I guess my definition of a POV problem is just narrower, limited to the realm of what information is made available to the reader, as opposed to the authenticity of the POV subject.]

The problem with tone goes beyond just a distance issue–while there are dark stories where a humorous sentence or two can work, the blips of humor here just don’t work (they don’t come across as the gallows humor typical in dire straits).

— There was humor? Man I must be losing my sense of humor haha.

[Pao: Maybe an attempt at a certain flippancy would be more accurate.]

And the “cake is a lie” line–most gamers who read that line would immediately be taken out of the story. It’s not the type of tale that lends itself to that sort of sly, authorial, pop-culture reference, especially given the “evil computer intelligence” parallel with “Portal”.

There’s also that very jarring change in dialogue tone when, during a sim of an interrogation, a construct of a military man says things like “Hot damn… that’s cold. That is fucking cold man.”

—- Hahaha, there goes a TOINK.

The next point of contention in the story is the Adverb/Word Choice/Syntax problems. The common rule is that you take out adverbs altogether like in …unintentionally bareling madly… It just all becomes chatty clutter.

As for the word choice— besides the vocabulary of the author leaking into the language of the “I” character, I just blinked on the use of “emphatic” on page 45. Did he mean “empathetic” instead? Because the logic of the sentence would have to use the latter instead of the former. And I’m kinda thinking Yeeeee to the UP Creative Writing Program and hat-tip to EE Cummings with the story’s “She’s got such beautifully delicate hands” haha.

You’re probably right on that count, though the burden for that should go to editing, as much as the writer (and that’s not to say it isn’t understandable it was missed – I didn’t notice that until you pointed it out).

—- Why thank you, Counsel. Hey it’s a tricky piece.

As for the Syntax problem, I find that the story could have used a little bit of more clarity and conciseness. There were clichés and redundancies and if these were taken out then the story could have packed more of a wallop via brevity. Especially since we’re dealing with a mindscape story here.

The story did seem to wander a bit in the first part, then compress itself at the end. The most persistent redundancy for me came in the form of the repeated emphasis on the fact that the computer program could control everything that the prisoners see, taste, hear, etc. Issues of brevity aside, the problem I had with that was that it sort of undermined other aspects of the story: why would any Prisoner with possession of his/her faculties trust what he/she experienced in Greyspace? Given that the Prisoners spoke freely in Greyspace, why would the computer be unable to use the information gleaned there to inform their sims? (In one sim, the computer gets the name of the protagonist’s daughter wrong.) While we’re on the topic of the sims, if the goal is to immerse the target in that reality (which seems to be the point of all the role playing), why continue to refer to the prisoners by their numbers? That would serve as an anchor to the reality of the virtual incarceration of the prisoners.

The story itself could have been a combination of the psycho-horror-thriller vibes of the movies The Cube + The Cave. Except that it was still too hesitant to really explore the dark side of the storytelling force. The story should have been moving to be bleaker, darker, and deeper into a mindfuck. Like in page 50— the language does not match the violence of that scene. C’mon, push and you’d really hear that—-

CLICK

As for that click, if that click moved around on the page (let’s say indent it or whatever), you think it could have better generated a more sensory use for it? Like:

CLICK

I will say that I did like the final CLICK on page 52, which served to make the reality of the succeeding scenes ambiguous. It doesn’t really matter that we don’t hear a CLICK at the end, since we heard the CLICK at the beginning of that scene.

As for how the story ended, it warrants the “Well, of course” reaction because stories like this don’t have a happy ending. And yeah, it wasn’t horrifying enough because the horror did not build up enough for the end to become horrifying.

See, I love it when we see Filipino science fiction stories, I really do–there aren’t enough of them. The problem I have with this type of coerced virtual reality scenario, however, is that there are only a limited number of ways it can play out. Once the focus is placed on the fact that the virtual is being made indistinguishable from the actual, there’s almost a gravitational pull toward a certain type of ending, and this story adheres to that pretty closely. Now, I know that I’m not the world’s biggest fan of non-linear structure, but I think that telling the story in something other than a straight chronological order would have allowed the tension to be built up, allowed more confusion as between the real and the virtual, and made the ending seem less like the final stop of a train. What do you think, Ms. Outside the Narrative Box?

—Seriously? The answer is in brevity: make it all out like the sims are flashes in effect so that even if it followed that gravitational pull towards the expected ending it would still have a whallop. OR put the ending in the middle haha. OR use the CLICK more and not just a matter of signals for transition into the next sim. Man, I want to meet and talk to the author hahahahaha.

Over-reading this would be the “I” actually playing with the reader so that the reader is now part of the sim. Make it out like it all was a sim happening in the reader’s mind. That would have been just evil that it would be so good haha.

What I like about this story though is that there is something in the way the story was told— its language or unfolding— that grew on me, like Patrick Star spouting sporadic wisdom or like the most absurd of cartoon characters like that catdog making sense. It engaged the Critical-Going-OC-Apeshit-Construct in me hahaha.

I liked the attempt at exploring the confusion between the real and the virtual, a rich field, and the idea of a good cop-bad cop AI, but the story just didn’t hold together for me.

— Hahahaha you sound like a rejection letter, Counsel. May I recommend Alfred Bester’s “Fondly Fahrenheit” then for the young dude’s reading. All reet! Be fleet!

[Pao: A rejection letter? I suppose, in the end, all readers end up being the gatekeepers of their own tastes in fiction. ]

Mina Esguerra is one of the Filipino authors most beloved by the blogging community, partly because she writes excellent “chick lit” stories in a Philippine context, and partly because she maintains a regular online presence. Her next romance novella is a YA book with speculative elements, so I jumped at the chance to have her on the blog for a short interview.

Tell us a bit about your new book, “Interim Goddess of Love”:

Interim Goddess of Love is my first YA romance novella, and it’s about Hannah, a sophomore scholarship student at a college just outside of Metro Manila. Her world changes pretty much overnight when her friend (and not-so-secret crush), reveals to her that he’s actually the god of the sun, and that he needs her to temporarily be the goddess of love. Because the original goddess is missing. It’s the first volume of what I’ve planned as a series. (Operative word is “planned” of course.)

In an interview last year, you mentioned how your first novel pitch was for a YA story that was not picked up. What made you decide to return to that genre now? How do you approach writing a YA novel as opposed to one that is not aimed at that market?

Before getting published that first time (My Imaginary Ex, a chick lit novella), I had only ever really written YA — stuff that was more Sweet Dreams- and Sweet Valley-ish. Writing chick lit now, I actually still take my YA concept and just age the characters by five to seven years. My books are not very “adult” or raunchy. (My mother will disagree, but anyway.) I’ve also used a lot of flashbacks to college, so I feel like I never really left that comfort zone.

I pay attention to readers mentioning my books in social media though, and I noticed that they’re young. Teenagers. Younger than I’d expected since the stories are about twenty-somethings.  So I thought maybe I could work on a story and keep the characters teenagers too, instead of aging them. That’s how Interim Goddess of Love started.

This is also the first of your published novels/novellas that uses fantasy/speculative elements. Why did you choose to take this approach? Did this make the writing process any different?

It started as a personal writing challenge, because by the time I had written IGoL I had finished five chick lit novellas and wanted to push myself in another direction. The process was a bit different, mostly because I had to keep pulling myself back, toning down the fantasy parts. I decided it would be a romance first, but it’s easy to get swept up in the mythology.

Writing in the romance genre, where readers expect (if not demand) a happy ending, what do you do in order to surprise or tantalize the reader?

I always work with the happy ending as a given. (Spoiler!) I guess my version of “surprise” is I usually try to play with stereotypes or what people think are wise decisions. But I make sure everyone’s happy in the end, to varying degrees.

Tell us a bit about your writing process. Are you an outliner? Do you make use of alpha/beta reader? A writing group?

I am a fan of the outline. I can go as specific as a chapter-by-chapter treatment sometimes. I only start something when I know how it ends, so outlining makes everything easier. When I finish a draft, I share it with three people usually: my editor/s (different people depending on how the work will be published), cover designer, and my husband (who provides the male perspective on things).

You and your husband (2006 Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards winner Michael A. R. Co) are both writers. Can you describe for us what that dynamic is like? Do you critique each other’s drafts, or do you go out of your way not to “influence” each other, or is it something in between?

We always come up with stories together, for fun, but those never really get written, much less published. It’s like the act of telling each other the idea completes it, in a weird way. Which isn’t so great if we actually want to produce something.

So if I want to seriously write and finish a story, I don’t involve him at all in the early stages. I let him read the draft when it’s finished. He’ll have some comments (or a lot), of which I’ll take a few (haha) into consideration and maybe do a revision. But that’s it. The next time he gets to read my work is when it’s been published.

Let’s dig up some behind-the-scenes info for fans of your work: Looking back at (any or all of) your earlier books, can you tell us about alternative choices that you could have made that would have drastically altered the stories? Any characters who were tweaked or removed, any plot twists left on the cutting room floor?

There’s a version of Fairy Tale Fail that has Lucas and Ellie on a road trip together. But that’s also the version where Ellie’s friend Charisse had a subplot that was meant to call her intentions into question, but I trashed that because I didn’t want to complicate things given the word count I was working with. (Also I felt bad about ruining a character for the sake of more drama.)

In my next chick lit novel (accepted for publication but not yet on the shelves), I imported two characters and their entire backstory from a failed manuscript attempt. Just plugged them in there as supporting characters. I had gotten attached to them and wanted them out in the world in some form, even though I had given up on their story.

You started your blog after your first book was accepted for publication, so it seems that you knew even then that you wanted to have an online presence as an author. What have been the advantages to this decision so far? What have been the disadvantages, if any?

When I started the blog, I didn’t have any grand plans for it. I just thought I should have an “official” place, in case people wanted to get in touch with me.

Now I’m on Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, and a few other places, which has been great because overall, the readers who contact me have been awesome and supportive.

A potential problem with this — not that I have it, so I’ll speak hypothetically – is when an author forgets that she has to remain professional, even though these social media accounts can lead to sharing personal thoughts and info. That includes not using “author” accounts to lash out at the crazy things one sees on the internets.

As someone who has published both on her own and through a traditional publishing house, what’s your opinion of the state of Philippine publishing today? Is there any hope that someday, the Philippines will have full-time authors?

I am even more excited about publishing now – as a Filipino author, living in the Philippines, writing about Filipinos — than when I started. I appreciate the support coming from a publisher like Summit, and I can tell that many readers know of me because of my work with them. At the same time, it’s great that digital publishing has made it easier for me to reach a larger market, and that this market has taken an interest in familiar stories set in unfamiliar places.

Can the Philippines have full-time authors? YES, definitely. Last year, I decided that I would take steps to eventually become one. But I’m not really sure what a “full-time author” makes, or can make, here in the Philippines, so I’ve set my own standard. At one point I described my book earnings as “my salary in 2001” – which is cool, but not something I’ll give up my day job for just yet.

In any case, I became a mom last year, so that will still have to be my priority. The “full-time writing” will happen while my daughter naps. J

What’s next for you, short-term and long-term?

Still working on the print version of Interim Goddess of Love. Hoping to finish the manuscripts and possibly publish Interim Goddess of Love #2 and #3 within the year. Waiting for the new chick lit title to come out. And then, will start outlining a new series (romance and crime!). After planning my daughter’s first birthday! Busy busy year ahead.

For our second Alternative Alamat contributor interview this year, I’ve spoken with Andrei Tupaz, author of “Offerings to Aman Sinaya”. Andrei used to work as a primary school teacher in the Philippines but now lifts heavy boxes of produce and stocks shelves five days a week at a supermarket in Wellington, New Zealand.  In his spare time, when he isn’t recovering from all the lifting he does at work, he works out at the gym, or spends time with his wife doing extremely productive things like lazing about near the Wellington wharf, watching shows and movies, or acceding to his body’s gastronomic demands.

Without spoiling anything essential, could you tell me a bit about your story?

My story focuses on a fishing tribe, and their relationship to the sea goddess Aman Sinaya.  It also asks and “answers” the question: “If Aman Sinaya, goddess of the sea, really existed, what kind of offering would she accept from those who fish within her domain?”

Did you draw upon any specific personal experiences in writing this story? Experiences of the sea, of love, or a clash between old and new?

I guess an experience that I drew upon is the time my friends (including my then girlfriend and now wife) and I swam with whale sharks in Donsol. I wore a life vest because I couldn’t swim (I knew how to paddle but couldn’t stay afloat).  We saw four whale sharks.  The first one I saw (was it really the size of a bus?) went straight toward me, and then veered away at the last second.  If I stretched out my hand I would have touched the whale shark’s snout (touching the whale shark would have been wrong of course); it felt like I was that close.

I still can’t truly put into words the awe and amazement I felt swimming with those whale sharks. Our guide, a man in his forties, was an incredible swimmer and diver. Seeing him, and the other men in the bangka we hired, move so effortlessly around the bangka, and in the water – that also affected me. Another experience that probably “jumpstarted” the story was seeing a high school friend’s photo of the sunken cemetery in Camiguin, with the iconic cross rising out of the ocean.  My friend had composed the photo so that the cross was in the upper third of the photo.  On the lower third of the photo, there was a bangka moving towards the cross.

What part of the story–or the writing process–was the most fun for you?

The part of the writing process I like most is the start – when the screen is white and devoid of any text. Because then I can write anything, and it doesn’t have to make sense or be coherent.  I like writing short 250 to 500 word ‘freewrites’ about a concept I have (if you’re ‘freewriting’ about a concept, is it still a freewrite?), because it feels like I’m just indulging in my imagination, but to turn that concept into a whole story… ahh that’s hard work.

That’s how Offerings to Aman Sinaya actually came about…out of a 500 word ‘freewrite.’  I wrote about a parent telling a bedtime story to his child, of fishermen diving to the bottom of the sea, to pray to a statue of the Virgin Mary. Funny how the original freewrite had such a Catholic motif.

What part of the story–or the writing process–was the most difficult for you?

Creating a coherent story.  I had written so many “what if” versions on the idea of giving an offering to a sea goddess, with so many different characters, that I had a hard time choosing what the plot was going to be about.

How were you first exposed to Philippine mythology?

I learned about some folktales from my parents and carers (including stories of aswangs and the like), and read a bit of Lam-ang in high school, but I only really started learning about Philippine myths and legends when I bought a copy of Damiana Eugenio’s Philippine Folk Literature: The Myths.  Sadly, I lost my copy of the book before I could finish it.

Is there any myth, epic or legend that you wish would be adapted into a novel, or comic, or movie?

Bernardo Carpio maybe?  Also Maria Makiling, because the tales about her are so varied; sometimes she’s extremely kind, sometimes a lover who has been spurned, at other times a forbidding and dangerous guardian of her domain.

Who is your favorite character from Philippine mythology, and why?

Bernardo Carpio, because he was named after a hispanic character, and yet was supposedly seen by the Katipuneros as a symbol against Spanish oppression.  Also Maria Makiling, for the reasons stated above.

As always, remember that you can purchase Alternative Alamat at any of the following vendors:

• Amazon.com
• Flipreads.com
• iTunes
• Barnes & Noble Nook

Without spoiling anything essential, could you tell me a bit about your story?

The inspiration for this story came from reading the poetry in Mangyan Heritage. I had an exchange with the curator of the Mangyan Heritage Institute and I expressed my desire to use the poetry in some of my work.

Harinuo’s love song was an experiment in combining mythic storytelling and the Ambahan. In a certain sense, Harinuo’s Love Song resembles the story of the Star Maiden. It’s not the same though.

What made you think of using elements from Mangyan poetry and Ifugao folklore in the same story?

To be honest, I didn’t set out with a definite plan. I was reading the poetry and I allowed myself to be led by it to the story which turned out to be based on Ifugao folklore. I suppose this was influenced by my absorption in tribal lore at the time of writing. I was very much inspired by the poetry of the Mangyan and wanted to showcase it against a background that was much more familiar to me which was the Ifugao culture.

What part of the story–or the writing process–was the most fun for you?

What I enjoyed the most about writing this story was how it just flowed. I wasn’t really concerned about whether it was publishable or not. I just wanted to put the words on the page. To me capturing that image and the feeling was very important. In writing this story, I didn’t pay attention to the conventions of story writing. I think I was more immersed in the language and the rhythm of the language. I was not so much concerned with writing a traditional story as being true to the spirit of the telling.

What part of the story–or the writing process–was the most difficult for you?

Letting go and sharing it with readers. As I said, it was very much a personal experiment. Stuff like this isn’t easy to let go of. I guess, it’s also because it exposes the artist’s vulnerable soul.

How were you first exposed to Philippine mythology?

I think that we grew up with it in a certain sense. It’s kind of impossible to be unaware of certain mythologies when you grow up in a tribal area. Later, I became more fascinated with Philippine myths and I wanted to read more and more that was Filipino.

Is there any myth, epic or legend that you wish would be adapted into a novel, or comic, or movie?

“Aponibolinayen and the Sun.” It was this tale about a maiden who got married to the sun. I liked that story a lot.

Who is your favorite character from Philippine mythology, and why?

I am rather fascinated by the character of Bugan. Perhaps because this name is the default for a lot of female characters in Ifugao mythology. In any case, I find myself speculating on Bugan and wondering what if she was a recurring being. I’m still pondering on it and I know I’ll probably write something about that sometime in the future. But to me, Bugan is fascinating because the myths connected to that name allow the imaginer to travel diverse pathways and still in a sense remain tied to the original tale.

“Alternative Alamat” is now available from Amazon.com, Flipreads.com, and iTunes. I’ll continue to speak with the contributors to gain some insight into the stories found in the book. Celestine  Trinidad  is  a  newly  licensed  physician  who  still  tries  to  read  and  write  as  much  as she  can  in  her  (now  unfortunately  very  little)  free  time.  Her stories have appeared in other publications such as Philippine Genre Stories, Philippine Speculative Fiction IV,  Philippines Free Press,  and  Usok.  Much  to  her  own  surprise,  she  won  the  Don  Carlos  Palanca  Memorial  Award for Literature in 2008 for her short story for children “The Storyteller and the Giant”.

Without spoiling anything essential, could you tell me a bit about your story?

Maria Sinukuan, guardian deity of Arayat, is called upon to solve the murder of a young woman from one of the towns under her care. One of her suitors, Juan, insists on tagging along, much to her annoyance. But nothing is as it seems in this mystery—not even her suitor.

I know that you’re a fan of Maria Sinukuan. What is it about Maria Sinukuan (as portrayed in the legends) that makes her so appealing to you?

I like that she is such a strong character—she is called “Sinukuan”, after all, as proof of the strength of her power. According to Damiana L. Eugenio’s Philippine Folk Literature Series (“The Legends”), she was able to defeat everyone who put her power to the test, even those who were said to possess an anting-anting. The young men who came to woo her never stood a chance with her. I love the kind of attitude that I think she would have, based on these legends. She seemed like the kind of character who wouldn’t take crap from anyone, and who can be ruthless, but only if she felt you deserved it. (And yes, it was said that she did turn people into pigs!) I would greatly respect such a person even in real life, though I would probably be very careful not to make her angry.

What part of the story–or the writing process–was the most fun for you?

The banter! Mixing someone like Maria with someone as irritatingly persistent and as enigmatic as Juan seems like a recipe for disaster, and that, of course, is fun to write.

What part of the story–or the writing process–was the most difficult for you?

As with every story I write, I always struggle with the middle of the story, since I already knew how to write the beginning and also the ending, but it’s always such a difficult journey writing what goes on in between. I wouldn’t want to give away too much so the mystery is already predictable, but I also wouldn’t want to give away too little that the reader would feel cheated. It’s a struggle, yes, but a challenge I actually enjoy.

How were you first exposed to Philippine mythology?

When I was still very young I liked watching this series on TV, “Ora Engkatada”, which my grandmother appeared in (she played Lola Torya, the grandmother who read from the big book of magical stories, hehe). And then later on, since my parents saw that I liked the fantasy genre so much, they bought me this book entitled, “Mga 55 Piling Alamat ng Pilipinas”, by Pablo M. Cuasay, a collection of various origin legends, which I loved reading even back then.

Is there any myth, epic or legend that you wish would be adapted into a novel, or comic, or movie?

It’d be great if Juan and Maria could be made into a movie, haha! Since I do plan on making this into a series.

Seriously though, there’s this a lesser-known legend about a woman named Tonina, who due to trickery on the part of the other wives of Rajah Solaiman, was raised away from the palace, not knowing she was a princess. But in the end, she managed to save two kingdoms from the invading Spaniards, and reclaim her birthright. (There is also a part there where she cross-dresses and almost defeats her future husband in a duel.) I think having a movie on that would be pretty epic!

Who is your favorite character from Philippine mythology, and why?

Maria Sinukuan is my favorite out of all the goddesses, but you probably expected that, didn’t you?  I like female characters that defy conventions, or even redefine them.

I bought a physical copy of “Writing the Other” last year, but now that there’s an ebook edition out, I decided to write a review that will hopefully encourage more people to buy and read this very important writing. book. We Filipino authors especially should never forget that, as the book says, “difference is not monolithic.” You can find the review at Fantasy Faction, or just read on for the text:

I’m a Filipino, and a geek, but I’m not used to feeling like an Other, like I’m not a part of the mainstream. I live in the Philippines, so I am, in fact, part of the majority, and my geek-ish pursuits tend toward reading books, watching anime, and playing video games, all of which are activities I can indulge in by myself.

But in the world of mass media, particularly genre media, my race ensures that I’m not part of the majority. I know what it feels like to read a story where my country is never mentioned, or watching a movie when the only character that is Filipino is a maid. While I’d wish it were otherwise, I don’t generally view stories created outside of my country to be the venue where I’m going to find plentiful and authentic representations of Filipinos and Philippine culture. As a Filipino writer, I think that’s one of my responsibilities.

But as I mentioned, in the Philippines, I am part of the Dominant Paradigm, the person of Unmarked State (we’ll get to that later). The Philippines is home to many indigenous communities that have often been marginalized by both our local media and popular culture–as a contrast, I live in Metro Manila, “Imperial Manila” as some of our southern brethren call it, who grew up pretending to be part of G.I. Joe or one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, instead of being a Tikbalang or the hero Lam-Ang. And yet, as often as I can, I try to tap into the rich intangible heritage of our indigenous mythologies when I write… and, while I do it out of love and in order to promote those myths, it often scares me out of my mind. When I recently put together “Alternative Alamat“, my greatest fear was that I would be engaging in a form of colonization or appropriation (especially since the anthology is in English). And yet, I know that there are stories that need to be told, even if I’m not a member of the Ifugao, or the Mangyan, or the Tausug.

“Write what you know.” That’s always the exhortation. But especially for someone who wants to write about characters, cultures, and perspectives decidedly beyond my experience, as a writer of fantasy and science fiction… what do I do?

Simple. You write what you don’t know… but you do it right. (Or exert every effort to do so.) That’s where “Writing the Other” comes in. It’s a book that was released in 2005, but wasn’t widely distributed–but now that it’s been released as an ebook I wanted to take the time to extol its virtues as an essential textbook for every writer.

“During the 1992 Clarion West Writers Workshop attended by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward, one of the students expressed the opinion that it is a mistake to write about people of ethnic backgrounds different from your own because you might get it wrong—horribly, offensively wrong—and so it is better not even to try.

This opinion, commonplace among published as well as aspiring writers, struck Nisi as taking the easy way out and spurred her to write an essay addressing the problem of how to write about characters marked by racial and ethnic differences. In the course of writing the essay, however, she realized that similar problems arise when writers try to create characters whose gender, sexual preference, and age differ significantly from their own.”

“Writing the Other” is the book that grew out of a workshop that Shawl and Ward put together to help writers portray characters who are outside the Dominant Paradigm. As such, each section of the book (or, rather, the main body) is composed of two parts: the first is an extended essay where the authors discuss a topic, or a set of related topics, explaining terminology and the pitfalls which can ensnare authors attempting to write “marked” characters, providing possible solutions along the way; the second part consists of writing exercises where the reader and prospective writer can attempt to apply the lessons learned from the essay.

The presence of the exercises–a holdover from the workshops–are a good indication that the book stays true to its subtitle (“A Practical Approach”) as most of the advice that is given is simple and concrete. (Note I didn’t say “easy”–invariably, research is involved as pointed out in Shawl’s essay, “Beautiful Strangers.”) This is particularly true in the aptly titles “Don’t Do This!” section, where the authors go through a series of missteps some authors make in their handling of marked characters, giving specific examples and counter-examples to reveal problematic assumptions and omissions. (Think, “the Dark Hordes attacked…”)

Even the more theoretical discussions can have an immediate and practical effect on readers (such as myself at the time) who are unused to the terminology–because certain words, once defined in the reader’s mind, cannot but cause a shift (big or small) in perspective. Terms such the Unmarked State (the default setting of a character not otherwise described – usually white, male, single, young, heterosexual, and without disability), Glory Syndrome (the story is about the problems of those marked by difference, but only insofar as they affect those who are unmarked), parallax (which involves being conscious of what a character with a particular history/context would consider to be “normal”), and resonance (a complex of ideas that reinforce and highlight one another) make visible issues in a text which may bother a reader, but which are very hard to identify if the author is not specifically on the lookout for them.

That need for writers to be aware of marked states and positions of privilege, and to be rigorous in our questioning of our own assumptions and presuppositions, is something that permeates the entire book. But in the main, what you’ll come away with after reading “Writing the Other” not only with the conviction that it is possible to write characters of a different race, or gender, or sexual orientation in a way that is authentic and believable, but you’ll come away with a desire to do just that. While the authors are blunt about what does and doesn’t work, they are also manage to be encouraging to authors who (I’m sure they are aware) may be growing more and more nervous as they realize what a minefield this aspect of fiction can be. It’s always possible–in fact, it’s likely–that we’ll still get something wrong about the Other even after reading the book, but that’s okay, in the same way that we’ll never write the perfect story. The goal is worth striving for anyway.

“Writing the Other” is a slim volume, with the main text only 75 pages long. (The remainder of the book is taken up by two of Nisi Shawl’s essays “Beautiful Strangers: Transracial Writing for the Sincere” and “Appropriate Cultural Appropriation”, and an excerpt from her novel, “The Blazing World”.) Nevertheless, it provides insight into an often overlooked aspect of the writing process, one of special resonance to those who seek to write science fiction and fantasy, and does so in a clear and concise manner.

“Alternative Alamat” was released yesterday (go buy a copy at Amazon, iTunes, or Flipreads), but our contributor interviews will still continue. Today’s featured “Alternative Alamat” contributor is a man who should need no introduction (but I’ll give him one anyway), Dean Francis Alfar. Dean is a leading advocate of speculative fiction in the Philippines, and the publisher of the annual “Philippine Speculative Fiction” anthology. His novel “Salamanca” won both the Book Development Association of the Philippines’ Gintong Aklat award, as well as the Grand Prize in the Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature. He has nine more Palancas to his name, two Manila Critics’ Circle National Book Awards, the Philippine Free Press Literary Award, and the Philippine Graphic/Fiction Award. His short fiction has been collected in “The Kite of the Stars and Other Stories”, and been published in venues both national and international, including “The Year’s Best Fantasy & Horror”, “Rabid Transit: Menagerie”, “Latitude”, and “The Apex Book of World SF”.

Without spoiling anything essential, could you tell me a bit about your story?

My story, set in the reimagined colonial Hinirang, answers the question “What happens when the Spanish colonizers open the door into the Faith system of the native Filipinos?”

Most of the narrative in this story is told through the use of the footnotes. What do you gain, and what do you sacrifice, in using a different format for a story than most readers are used to? When is it worth the risk?

I like to use different forms and structures to tell different kinds of stories.  For this one, I liked the appeal of being able to delve deeper into the usually dry and superficial tone of most encyclopedias or similar resources.  I also broke the convention of the footnote and utilized direct narrative, with complete sequences of quoted text (warts and all).  It is a challenge to read, but I think it is also rewarding.  The loss of the usual narrative flow is worth the discovery of deeper or enhanced text.  But certainly, this manner is not to every reader’s taste – but it falls to us to try something unusual once in a while, for the sake of the story.

What part of the story–or the writing process–was the most fun for you?

Finishing it, haha!  But really, apart from the white heat of insipiration, writing is more work than fun for me.  But the reward upon completion is worth all the stress and late nights.

What part of the story–or the writing process–was the most difficult for you?

Editing myself has always been my bane.  I tend to gloss over my own errors – lapse of logic, missing words, mistaken attribution – because my mind fills in the blanks even as I read.  It’s different when I edit other authors because I am automatically distant from the text.

How were you first exposed to Philippine mythology?

As a young boy, I cut my teeth on the classical myths but eventually found myself wondering if we had anything ourselves.  I wasn’t happy with the watered-down versions I found as a youth.  It was much later, in university, when I had a class with Damiana Eugenio whose work provoked my interest and in turn led me to Maximo Ramos and other sources.

Is there any myth, epic or legend that you wish would be adapted into a novel, or comic, or movie?

During a panel I chaired recently on Philippine Folklore and Mythology, Jun Balde sold me on the myths and legends of the Bicol region.  I’d love to read all of that. [Editor's Note: Here's an audio recording of that panel, Manila International Literary Festival 2011: Of Folklores, Myths and Legends, courtesy of Charles Tan.]

The day has come!

“Alternative Alamat“, our digital anthology of stories inspired by Philippine mythology, is now available for US$4.99 at the following fine establishments:

• Amazon.com – US$4.99 (note there’s an extra US$2.00 charge for certain non-US territories/accounts, including, unfortunately, the Philippines)
• Flipreads.com (epub file) – PHP235.00
• [iTunes and Barnes & Noble/Nook editions to follow]

I hope that by now you’re all excited to get your hands on the book (or, rather, the hardware holding the file), and if so, thank you and what are you waiting for? If you’re still on the fence even after the preview of our contributor and story introductions, and our author interviews (Raissa, Mo, Eliza), then read on (or download the press release here)!

As a celebration of today’s launch, I’d like to give you a glimpse of some of the non-fiction segments of the book, as well as the wonderful artwork of Mervin Malonzo, creator of “Tabi Po“. You’ve already seen the beautiful cover Mervin made for us, but you may not have realized he’s also doing internal artwork as well. Each book is graced with eleven original illustrations by Mervin, where he gives his spin on eleven of the most interesting gods and goddesses of Philippine mythology. I don’t want to give too much away, so here’s a montage-teaser using elements from all eleven pieces:

After the cut: one full sample of Mervin’s interior artwork, the full text of the book’s introduction, and excerpts from my interviews with Professor Herminia Meñez Coben and Fernando N. Zialcita.

This is Mervin’s rendition of Balitok. Balitok comes from Ifugao mythology, and he is the son of Bugan of the Skyworld and Kinggauan, a mortal man. Due to the separation of his parents, he was eventually split in half: the upper half became a celestial being, and the lower half was converted into the animals that populate the Earth.

Introduction

“For the educated [Filipino] minority, Greek and Roman mythology is more familiar than their own. They can summon Apollo and Aphrodite or mentally wander around Olympus; but they are puzzled by Bugan and the seven levels of the Bukidnon sky-world. A vast area of our collective self, a self that is the product of generations of reflection upon life’s meaning, is thus submerged in darkness. In fact the ridges and valleys of this unexplored self continue to underlie our own view of the world, ‘modern’ though we are. A rediscovery of our myths unlocks this hidden continent.”

- “The Soul Book” by Francisco Demetrio, Gilda Cordero – Fernando, and Fernando Zialcita

In one sense, to speak of Philippine mythology is to use a term of convenience. We are a nation of many indigenous cultures–numbering anywhere from sixty to over a hundred, depending on who you ask–with distinct oral traditions.  This makes learning about our mythology somewhat more difficult than would be the case for other nations, but it also gives us a cumulative heritage that is rich and diverse.

There is a dual beauty to Philippine mythology: the stories that we know, and the stories that we don’t. From the former we gain gods of calamity and baldness, of cosmic time and lost things; we gain the bloodthirsty Banna, the lustful Labaw Donggon, the immortal Mungan; we gain the many-layered Skyworld, and weapons that fight their own battles; we gain a ship that is pulled to paradise by a chain, and a giant crab that controls the tides. These are ideas and images which inspire.

And yet, the stories we don’t know are just as fascinating. Philippine mythology is rife with those unfilled spaces that kindle the imagination, “those marginal regions named and labeled”, as Michael Chabon once put it. In some cases, all we have are fragments of a longer tale (as in the case of the Ibalon). In others, all that remains are the names of the gods and their divine functions, beautiful names and evocative duties, leaving us to wonder about the tales they once populated.

But here’s the thing: when writers are inspired, when writers wonder, they write.  This anthology is a product of that wonder and inspiration.

Within these pages, you won’t find straight retellings of old tales–”alamat” is the Filipino word for “legend”, and I’ve deliberately asked for stories that provide for “alternative” takes. Some stories build on what we know, or reexamine underlying assumptions. Others use names as catalysts, or play within the spaces where the myths are silent. What you will find in all these eleven stories, however, is a love for the myths, epics, and legends that reflect us, contain us, call to us.

In case the stories in this anthology whet your appetite for information about Philippine mythology, I’ve also included supplementary material in the form of interviews with experts in folklore and anthropology, as well as a rundown of notable Philippine gods and goddesses not featured in the anthology (interpreted visually by Mervin Malonzo in between the stories). This barely scratches the surface, of course, so you’ll also find a brief survey of other resources at the end of the book.

“The gods,” says Roberto Calasso in Literature and the Gods, “are fugitive guests of literature. They cross it with the trail of their names and are soon gone. Every time the writer sets down a word, he must fight to win them back.” I hope that the stories in this volume will help to make them more frequent visitors.

Excerpt from my interview with Professor Herminia Meñez Coben

Professor Herminia Meñez Coben has a Ph.D. in Folklore and Folklife from the University of Pennsylvania, was Professor of American Multicultural Studies at California State University, Sonoma, and taught “Philippine Folklore and Society” at the University of California, Los Angeles. She is the author of “Folklore Communication Among Filipinos in California” (1980), “Explorations in Philippine Folklore” (1996) and “Verbal Arts in Philippine Indigenous Communities: Poetics, Society, and History” (2009).

Do you have any favorites from the stories you’ve encountered in your studies of the various indigenous oral traditions?

My favorite stories and characters come from the epics. [The epics featured] women warriors, certainly, but also characters such as Mungan, the shaman from the Bukidnon and Ilianen Manobo. Leper and healer both, she gives her people the betelnut of immortality, which enables them to ascend to the Skyworld, while she remains on earth forever to guide future inhabitants on the path toward a life without death. I think that one of the short stories I’ll write will be about her.

Excerpt from my interview with Professor Fernando N. Zialcita

Fernando N. Zialcita is a Professor at the Department of Sociology and Anthropology of the Ateneo de Manila University, and is the head of its Cultural Heritage Studies Program. He is active in the battle to preserve our cultural identity, particularly our intangible heritage. He is also one of the co-authors of the “Soul Book”, one of the few attempts made in recent history at a popular introduction to Philippine mythology. He helped organize the Ateneo’s “Songs of Memory: International Conference on Epics and Ballads”, and he graciously allowed me to interview him after the events of the conference.

In one of your other books, “Authentic but Not Exotic”, you wrote about certain misconceptions Filipinos and non-Filipinos alike have about Filipino culture. What are some of those misconceptions about Philippine mythology and pre-history?

There’s a tendency to project monotheism into the past. I doubt many of our ancestors were monotheistic. Let me go back again to the material base of culture. You would expect monotheism to appear in a place where there is centralized authority, since religion is often related to social and political structures. But the pre-Hispanic was very decentralized, many different polities and many different leaders. So monotheism of the Judaic kind would be doubtful, although it is to be expected that some gods would be considered more powerful than others.

But that wouldn’t mean that this god could somehow give orders to the other gods.

Right. Of course, there was monotheism with those communities that adhered to Islam, but Islam was only in the Philippines around a century or so earlier than Catholicism, so it’s still a “new” religion.

——–

If I’ve piqued your interest with any of these content previews, I assure you that you won’t regret buying a copy of Alternative Alamat. I don’t think that it’s an exaggeration for me to say that this book is one of a kind (at the moment)–that’s one of the reasons I put it together. If you have any interest in Philippine mythology (or in mythology in general), in Philippine speculative fiction (or just in good stories), I think we’ve managed to put together a book well worth your time and money.

Without spoiling anything essential, could you tell me a bit about your story?

My story concerns a teenage boy who ends up at a pawnshop owned by a woman named Ana – who turns out to be more than a simple pawnshop owner.

Have you ever had something positive result from getting lost or from losing something?

I’ve lost small items every now and then, but they’re of little to no consequence. Their loss didn’t really teach me anything life-altering. I guess the most recent, significant loss I’ve experienced was when my family lost our store to a fire last year. A year has passed and now my parents have stopped renting space and have bought a new store and got the business going again. The positive result? A realization and later a rock-solid belief that my parents are superheroes, that my family can survive anything, that I have no reason to give in so easily to despair.

And I think there was a time when I got lost in Greenhills and I ended up at a stall that sold the most gorgeous cheap shoes. Haha!

What part of the story–or the writing process–was the most fun for you? What was the most difficult?

I don’t write to answer a call for entries. Normally I just write a story whenever I have the idea and the time, and then send it if it fits a certain publication. I didn’t have a story ready when I read Rocket Kapre’s call for entries to Alternative Alamat, but I was tempted to try to write a story that would fit the anthology. Often, before I begin writing, I already know how the story will flow and how it will end. I didn’t know how “Ana’s Little Pawnshop” would end when I started writing it. I wasn’t even quite sure what it was really about! There were just these two characters talking about sold items. So that was fun, trying to figure out where the characters would take me, but it was also difficult because I had no outline.

I had fun writing in the teenage boy’s voice. I haven’t used the “I” persona in a long while, so that was a wonderful change. I also loved describing Ana’s shop and all its items. I just hope it’s as fun to read as well.

How were you first exposed to Philippine mythology?

I think it’s through this cheap book of myths and legends that I found lying around the house when I was a child. I can’t remember the author or publisher. I saw it as a horror collection. Imagine a child reading about the origin of the pineapple, or how the lizard came to be. Freaky little stories. Most of our legends are stories of tragic transformations, and they mystified me. I loved them.

Is there any myth, epic or legend that you wish would be adapted into a novel, or comic, or movie?

I think it’d be interesting to make a movie about Lam-ang or Bernardo Carpio or Mariang Makiling and set it in the present. Or the future, why not? Lam-ang with a robot chicken. That would be awesome.

Who is your favorite character from Philippine mythology, and why?

Mariang Makiling, because she’s bad-ass.