Très funny

Oy, this book! I laughed myself silly. No wonder that everyone in the country wants to have a copy. Actually, the demand for this book is so huge that it sold its initial print run in just a few days.

Miriam Defensor-Santiago's funny book, Stupid Is Forever, is simply a compilation of all the anecdotes, pick-up lines, and jokes that made her a darling of the Filipinos. Who would've thought that senators would have a sense of humor?

Here are a few of my favorite lines from the book:

• “Miss, kutsara ka ba? Kasi papalapit ka pa lang, napanganga na ako.”
•  “Mag-exchange gift tayo? Akin ka at sa iyo naman ako.”
• “Ang sabi nila, ‘An apple a day keeps the doctor away.’ Kung guwapo o maganda ang doctor, ayoko na ng apple.”
• “Good news: Wala ka nang pimples! Bad news: Dahil wala nang space.”
• “Question: What is the plural form of iced tea? Answer: Bottomless iced tea.”
• “Hindi lahat ng sweet ay loyal sa ’yo. Tandaan, sweet nga ang candy, pero nakabalot naman sa plastic.”
• “Mention – Ang laki ng bahay nila, parang mention.”
• “A smart wife is one who makes sure she spends so much that her husband can’t afford another woman.”
• “If you are in a relationship, stop trying to figure out who wears the pants between the two of you. Relationships work best when both of you are not wearing pants.”
• “Marriage is not a word. It is a sentence – a life sentence.”
• “Hindi naman ako mataba eh. In fact, I’m so sexy that it overflows.”

Yes, some of these jokes aren't original, but the senator doesn't hide this fact. I guess what's funny is when she gives these jokes her acerbic spin and witty delivery. I read these funny bits on the bus, and I have to tell you that I it was a pain to keep myself from laughing out loud.

Is stupid really forever?
The author thinks so, especially after looking at other politicians.

What didn't work for me was the inclusion of some of her speeches which she delivered to school during their graduation and other special events. Somehow, these speeches dampened the humorous tone of the book. Thankfully, these ran for just a few pages.

I love Stupid Is Forever. It's the kind of book that you pass on to your friends. It's the book you read after a stressful day at work. It's your proof that maybe you're misunderstood because the people around you are, well, stupid.

Read this book if:

1. You could use a good laugh.
2. You know that some politicians are not the smartest people on the planet.
3. You do believe that stupidity can't be cured.

Not so fun anymore

My third read for the year left me wanting. Trese Volume 6, the Philippine graphic novel by Budgette Tan and Kajo Baldisimo arrived with much anticipation. I kept hearing that bookstores have run out of stock. So when I saw several copies in an out-of-the-way bookstore, I didn't think twice about getting it.

Yes, every time there's a new Trese volume, it's a major publishing event here in the Philippines. There hasn't been a local graphic novel that has sparked the interest and captured the imagination lately. Who wouldn't love a graphic novel that delves heavily in Philippine mythology and has elements of horror, action, and mystery?

Think Jim Butcher's The Dresden Files. Trese, a detective who comes from a very mysterious family, specializes in solving crimes of supernatural origins. All the tropes of a police procedural are here: Trese's close relationship with the local police force, the noir atmosphere, the couple of sidekicks who inject humor, red herrings, smoking guns.

Read this in the dead of night hoping it would be scary.
Huge disappoint, that was.

Yet somehow, when I read this latest installment, I didn't feel the same sense of wonder that I did when I finished the first three volumes. Gone were the horror, the fascination with seeing local monsters on the page, and the thrill of having discovered the perpetrators. The overall effect was just cheesy, to say the least.

And the characters . . . Trese still is the same Trese when you met her in the first volume. The Kambal, Trese's sidekicks, are still goofballs. The villains are cookie cutter creations that show no other emotions except the desire to wreak havoc in the city. Everything feels superfluous. I would've been happier rereading the early installments.

Baldisimo's illustrations are still superb though. I would've wanted Tan to make full use of the panels in developing the narrative. However, the dialogue felt "talky," as if the author felt the need to explain everything and not let the panels tell the story. The conversations also seemed unnatural and formal-ish. Trese is the kind of work that needs street-smart language, which unfortunately was severely lacking in this volume.

One good thing to come out of the sixth volume is that we do discover more details about Trese's family (her father and her siblings) and several other supernatural characters that are allied to Trese and her family. But this aspect still feels derivative. I kept expecting someone to just blurt out, "Avengers, assemble!"

I'm not so sure if I'd read the succeeding installments anymore. I've friends who are huge fans of the Trese series, and I hope that they persevere. Who knows, maybe the 7th, 8th, and nth volumes would be better.

Read this book if:

1. You're curious about Philippine mythology.
2. You like police procedurals, murder mysteries, noir, and crime fiction.
3. You're a completist.

Checking out a local bestseller

This weekend, I decided to go local with my reading. Considering that stories originally published in Wattpad are all the rave, I checked out the grandmama of them—Bianca Bernardino's She's Dating the Gangster. Bernardino's online novel has found its way to print, and I've heard that it's even going to be adapted to the big screen. So I'm curious.

My curiosity eventually becomes a huge disappointment as I turned the final page. I had high hopes for She's Dating the Gangster. But it's confusing, infuriating, frustrating, and tiring. Is this what young people these days are reading? Shallow drivel. If this novel began the trend of new adult novels in the country, then I shiver at the thought of reading the countless stories it has spawned.

Bernardino's novel starts interestingly enough. Kenji, the high school heartthrob, missends a text message to Athena, who he thinks is his ex-girlfriend, who is also named Athena. The ex is later called Abigail, probably to avoid confusion. I think that the ex can be called anything, as she has absolutely no character at all. It would even have helped it she'd have been nameless. (I think the same is true for the supporting characters. They're cookie cutter characters without any distinct voice.)

Anyway, Kenji is hellbent on getting back with Abigail, so he strikes a deal with Athena. All Athena has to do is to pretend that she's now Kenji's girlfriend. Hopefully, Abigail will see them all lovey-dovey and become jealous. (Yes, the novel somehow makes you think that jealousy leads to exes getting back. Warped thinking, if I may say.)

All the clichés are here. Good girl eventually falls for the bad boy. Female character gets sick and dies, but not before male character proposes marriage. Video footage being played that shows the dead character's stupid message to the one left behind. Screaming, lovesick teenage girls squeal a lot and defend the high school gangster. This is so unintentionally funny because they would even gang up on the girl they're jealous of.

I find no redeeming quality to She's Dating a Gangster. There's a pretentious allusion to Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet," but it just leads to even more stupidity. When Athena dies and leaves Kenji still a mess (even if one year has already passed), Kenji decides to take his own life by swallowing pills. By dying, he thinks that Athena and he will never be apart anymore. Whatever.  I'd rather have a root canal than read this pointless story again.

I'm glad that more and more people are reading though. And that a lot of them are coming up with stories that other people read. I only hope that these readers develop a hunger, a craving for something more satisfying. And that our local writers recognize this craving and answer it by telling stories with more substance.

Read this novel if:

1. This is the last book on earth.
2. You have no qualms about two sweethearts calling each other Sexylove and Lovebabe.
3. Oh, don't bother.

The screenplay, the movie, and everything in between

When I was a kid, there was nothing more magical than entering the cinema with snacks in hand, parting those thick red curtains, finding the seat with the best view, and waiting for the entire room to get dark. For a couple of hours, I was far removed from reality. I guess I will always love watching movies in the big screen. And I will always look forward to seeing a story unfold itself.

The story—the screenplay—is the movie's lifeblood. And a good screenplay can be quite a challenge to write. This is what I learned after reading Ricky Lee's Sa Puso ng Himala, a book that tells you everything that happened from the screenplay's inception to the making of the movie "Himala." It's a good story to tell, especially if the movie has been hailed as the best that Philippine cinema has to offer.

No, this book is no longer a manual for today's brand of filmmaking. Sa Puso ng Himala can be seen as a historical record, a piece of important collections of what people in the movie industry did back in the day. The daily toil, the grit that gets in their fingernails, the politicking to get funding, the non-digital manipulation of sound and dubbing, the thousands of extras that need to be hired—everything's in this book. If you watch the movie "Himala" now, you'll be transfixed by the inspiring performances of the cast, the timeless strength of the material, the texture of the production design. The book, Sa Puso ng Himala, tells you how they got there.

The movie's origins and production are a remarkable piece of storytelling in itself. Here are candid anecdotes of people who were involved in the movie. At that time, they never really knew that they were making Philippine cinema history; they just wanted to get it over and done with. The director was a perfectionist, the shoot location was a barren landscape, the extras were difficult to control, the budget was limited. Basically, there were problems at every stage. But you can never go wrong if you have a brilliant screenplay and a very talented cast.

Reading Sa Puso ng Himala is like finding yourself part of the crew. The book's author, Ricky Lee, who is also the screenplay writer of the movie, recounts the several changes his story underwent. The cast and crew reminisce about working with legendary director Ishmael Bernal, he of the impossibly high standards. (A couple of hundred extras needed first thing tomorrow morning? Done.) There are even articles about the movie's post-production stages, the production design, the poster, the local and international reception of the movie, and the day-to-day grind on set. It's a perfect book for classic movie buffs.

I have always believed that reading the screenplay is just part of the process. One gets to fully appreciate the magic of the movies when you see the words come to life in the big screen. It's like reading Shakespeare, yes? Shakespeare's plays become more vivid when you see them enacted on stage. That was, after all, Shakespeare's goal. After turning the last page of Sa Puso ng Himala, I did not just love the movie even more; it made me develop a deep respect for the craft, a fascination for the discipline that this form of media demands from its people. And that's why you stay for the credits at the end of the movie. Respect, people.

The different personalities involved in creating the film
The cast, the crew, the people in publicity,
and even a daughter of President Marcos

A page showing Ricky Lee's notes
Again proving that good writing requires several revisions
Ricky Lee conceived the screenplay with Nora Aunor in mind.

Quite amusing to read the perspectives of the cast and crew
Cat fights on set? Check. 20-hour days? Check. 

Lots of behind-the-scenes material in the book
Juicy, gossipy stuff

The book has lots of photo essays such as this spread. 

The devil is truly in the details.
How Bernal wanted to shoot the pivotal last scene
A study in organized chaos

Every aspiring writer should read Ricky Lee's screenplay. 

The book also includes the English translation of the screenplay.
On the left page is the visionary, Ishmael Bernal.

Read this book if:

1. You find movies magical.
2. You love reading screenplays.
3. You're looking for a gossipy read.

Triumphant

I closed this book with a feeling of wonder, of awe, of being joyfully awashed with all those details that happened in those fateful days leading to a peaceful revolution. Sometimes, we need to be reminded that years ago, within a span of 4 days, Filipinos showed the whole world that a peaceful revolution, a long overdue change in power, can be done. And thankfully, that reminder is Angela Stuart-Santiago's brilliant nonfiction work, Edsa Uno: A Narrative and Analysis with Notes on Dos & Tres.

Prior to reading Edsa Uno, I always thought that there's nothing new to know about the People Power Revolution in 1986 that happened in 4 days—from Saturday, 22 February, to Tuesday, the 25th. I was 12 years old at that time, and we were living just in front of one of the camps, Camp Aguinaldo, where some of the historic events took place. I distinctly remember my parents buying a whole box of bread. When I asked them what it was for, they just replied, "We're giving it to the soldiers." So in a way, by virtue of proximity, I was there during People Power I.

To say that Edsa Uno has been a very enlightening read would be an understatement. I never knew that Enrile and Ramos was involved in a coup attempt to oust Marcos just a few days before Edsa. I never knew that Enrile harbored ambition to be the leader of our country in a junta government. I never knew that there was a brief power struggle during those 4 days between the camps of Corazon Aquino and the military defectors (Enrile and Ramos). I never knew that Marcos was more or less kidnapped by the US government when he left Malacañang Palace with his family. I never knew that I didn't know a lot of things. It's a great feeling, this finally knowing. It would feel even greater if other people would know too.

Stuart-Santiago's book, for all intents and purposes, is a chronology. Edsa Uno presents all the details that happened during those fateful days. The research that went into this chronology is admirable. Stuart-Santiago's narrative is filled with first-hand accounts of people who played a part during this momentous period in Philippine history. Actually, most of the book is just that—people telling what was happening at a particular time. It feels wonderful reading their stories. With their stories, I kept imagining myself right in the thick of things. When these people recounted how they feared for their lives when they formed a human barricade to stop the tanks from getting to the military camps, you really feel the tension.

By the book's end, I wonder why we never fully realized the promise of the revolution. Here we still are, in a country ruled by the elite. Edsa Uno does make an analysis of what went right and wrong for the Philippines in line with the peaceful revolution of 1986. It even compares that event with the two other revolutions that happened in 2001, events which also transpired in Edsa, that highway that all residents of Manila are all familiar with. It's a bit disheartening to read the closing sections of the book. However, the book still makes it clear—People Power I was indeed a success, but the events after it are another matter altogether.

Reading Edsa Uno, I am reminded of the opening line in Charles Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The mid 1980s under the Marcos dictatorship was probably the worst of times for most Filipinos. But those years were a catalyst in bringing out the best among us, Filipinos. And for 4 days, the Filipino spirit was in its best form for all the world to see.

Read this book if:

1. You've always been fascinated by the peaceful Philippine revolution of 1986.
2. You know that history isn't boring at all.
3. You just want to know.

Going local this month

Well, it looks like I would have to stay away from dead guys for the meantime. I have to make room for some local flavor in my reading plans in the next couple of weeks. Okay, I said to myself that I'll be reading only dead guys this year, but the books pictured above are book club picks. And I don't wanna stay mute during the book discussions because I wasn't able to read them.

Po-On is the first of the Rosales saga novels by F. Sionil Jose, one of the country's National Artist for Literature. The book club is reading all 5 Rosales saga novels in a read-along event. I'm not pretty sure if I like Po-On, as I've read just a few chapters so far. So I still haven't committed myself to the rest of the Rosales saga novels.

I was a kid during the 1986 People Power Revolution, an event wherein the Filipino people peacefully toppled the decades-long Marcos dictatorship. So I am naturally curious about EDSA Uno by Angela Stuart-Santiago. It's supposed to be a faithful account of the events leading up to the historic event and its aftermath. EDSA Uno is the book club's February book.

And our March book is a bit of an unconventional one. We're reading a screenplay of an acclaimed local film! Ricky Lee's Sa Puso ng Himala is a book that tells all about the making of the movie "Himala." It contains the full screenplay, interviews with the cast, behind-the-scenes stories, and other pieces by the screenwriter. A lot of people say that "Himala" was groundbreaking when it was first shown in 1982, and its influence can still be felt today.

I'll probably be back in the arms of dead guys by March. But for February, the month of love, I'll show my love for local books first. Happy reading! And Happy Valentine's Day in advance, dear readers! 

This felt very detached

I seldom write about books that I don't like or about those which leave no impression at all after reading them. What's the use of talking about these books, no? Besides, negativity is so wrinkle inducing.

But I feel that I need to say my piece about Cyan Abad-Jugo's book, Salingkit: A 1986 Diary. It's one of two books for discussion this month for the book club; I wouldn't want to railroad the discussion with my thoughts, if I want to get out of it alive.

For one, the main character, a girl in senior high school named Kitty Eugenio, is just ordinary, probably too ordinary for my taste. If I wanted ordinary, I wouldn't look for it in a book. I'll just talk to my nieces. They probably have more interesting things going on in their lives right now.

So this ordinary girl has ordinary friends, who seem to speak in one voice. Kit's friends are your cookie cutter lovesick and hormone-pumped teenagers. And the dialogue is very unnatural that I actually cringed in some parts. It's like a badly written episode from the Disney Channel.

It's too unfortunate that Kitty comes off as being ordinary as she is living in an extraordinary time. It's 1986, the year when the Philippines went through a peaceful revolution, forcing the dictatorial President Marcos into exile. But the book did include a story line about Kit finding herself smack in the middle of a coup d'état, while hoping to speak to a general who can probably help find her father. (You see, Kit's father, a political activist, has been missing for several years and is probably one of the thousands killed during the repressive regime of the Marcoses.) Unfortunately, that story line felt flat and went nowhere.

I think that another reason that I didn't take to the book is the music references. All the mentions of 80s music by bands such as Duran Duran and Depeche Mode are lost on me. I never liked DD and DM. I didn't care too much about their trippy music and how their many songs feel and sound the same. But the 80s gave us U2 and R.E.M., and for that I will be forever grateful to this decade. (Michael Stipe is a god.)

I'll probably just keep mum during the book discussion. I was told that there would be cake. And my copy of Marcel Proust's Swann's Way is begging for my attention.

Read this book if:

1. 80s music is your thing. Big hair! Shoulder pads! Metallic accessories!
2. Fictional memoirs are your thing.
3. Cassette tapes were your thing.

That ain't a typo in the title

My T-shirt during the discussion
Somehow, the word 'award' has now become a slang term for 'awesome'.

Last weekend, the book club got together for an official book discussion. This time, it was a local book: Bebang Siy's It's a Mens World, which won the Best Essay Collection award during last year Readers' Choice Awards. (Obligatory disclaimer: I was one of the 3 judges in this category.)

Orly, the moderator for the month, managed to pull off one of the most enjoyable book discussions I've attended. The author herself was present during the discussion, who I think was amused listening to us talk about our thoughts on her book. I must admit that I was a bit wary of having authors being present during book discussions. Some of the members might be too uncomfortable sharing when the author would be present, especially if the opinions aren't positive. But Bebang Siy was cool with it.

Also, Orly picked 10 book club members to do readings of Bebang Siy's work. I was one of those unfortunates who were chosen. For my reading, I decided to read from Bebang's blog instead of the book. I figured that the novelty of it would force the members to listen. Hihihihihi.

There were pretty cool swag too. The bookmark is quite, ummmm, different, as you would see below. Orly also got help from a couple of the members for the other swag items. Plus, we all were wearing shirts with unique words printed on them. Prior to the discussion, Orly asked us to identify a word that reminds of something from the book.

If you'd get to know Bebang Siy, you'd find out that she's one of the most interesting persons around. She's terribly funny. She's like your long-lost sister or your fag hag. Her essays found in It's a Mens World show the range of her writing abilities. While several of the essays in the collection were humorous, a few of them can really tug at your heart. I admire her for coming up with a very personal essay collection. I know I couldn't do it. All that honesty would kill me.

Anyway, here are some pics that I'd like to share with you, dear reader.

Me, during the reading
I asked R to be my 'human prop'.
(From R's camera)

R, me, and Bebang
That lady is hysterical!
(From R's camera)

The brown bag with the mysterious goodies

Opening the brown bag made me smile
Locally made candy!

The bookmark
Shaped like a sanitary napkin

Me with free magazines from the National Book Development Board
Thank you!
(Photo courtesy of R)

The Flippers!
(Photo from R's camera)

Rereading the great Philippine novel

Rereading the "great Philippine novel" this month

So it's finally come to the last book for the year for the book club. And this month, it's José Rizal's Noli Me Tangere (Touch Me Not).

A lot has been said about this novel written by the national hero of the Philippines. How it sparked the Philippine revolution, how it has become the great Philippine novel, why is has found itself in the high school curriculum in the country and thus has become required reading.

Perhaps it's the concept of the book being required reading that made it a very unenjoyable reading experience more than 20 years ago in high school. I recall memorizing all those details about the characters: their full names, their roles, what they symbolize. Tedious and boring stuff, I tell you.

I never did get into the novel, despite having finished it and all its non-relevant details. I found it too political, too serious for itself, and too symbolic. It's lengthy too, with my current trade paperback copy at more than 420 pages.

Nevertheless, I'm determined to still give it another go. Perhaps this time time, I'd find some gems in Rizal's opus. Maybe reading Noli Me Tangere solely for its literary value would elicit an appreciation for it, or maybe that would just heighten my disdain for it. We will see, dear readers.

So now we're saying good-bye to 2012, and it's been a good year as well for the book club. The books we chose this year were our most eclectic mix yet. We've read not just "literary" novels but also graphic fiction, short stories, fantasy, food and travel essays, young adult, and nonfiction.

One more book to go, and then we're saying hello to 2013.

The books chosen for discussion for 2012
by Flips Flipping Pages
(Click to enlarge.)

Hey, it's my most un-favorite sport!

If there's one sport that I don't feel passionately about, it's basketball. I  just don't get it. Considering that I'm from the Philippines, I'm in the minority. Everyone here is just gaga over this sport.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't hate basketball. Before, people naturally assume that with my height (I'm 5' 9" in a country where the average male height is a little over 5' 6"), I'd be into the sport. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I think I can count with my one hand the number of times I've held a basketball.

Rafe Bartholomew's nonfiction work, Pacific Rims, touches on this particular sport with verve. It's a book I picked up with trepidation. How can I be interested in this white American male's perspective on our unofficial national pastime?

Bartholomew, a basketball enthusiast even during his childhood, decides to check out the Philippines to find out why this third world country of mine is so into hoops, and what he has found out is at turns revealing and entertaining. Frankly, I'm a bit ashamed (and amused) that it took a foreigner to show me all about this sport in its full local color.

It seems that the Fulbright guys made the right decision when they gave a grant to Bartholomew to study the ins and outs of basketball in the Philippines. Pacific Rims is well researched. It chronicles the history of the sport in the country from the time when the sport was introduced to the country, the time when the Philippines started out as a 'basketball superpower' in Asia, and finally to the present status of the sport both in the professional and nonprofessional levels. All very fascinating reading, I tell you. Lots of colorful personalities—from visionaries to politicians who want to ride in on the popularity of the sport.

Of course, there has to be a focus that will tie all the elements that Bartholomew presents. And this is achieved when Bartholomew is invited to tag along with a local professional team during the start of a season until its eventual win in the finals. The team's win is where I'd like to believe that Bartholomew is their lucky charm, for the team has a shameful track record lately.

I believe that Pacific Rims would appeal to both Filipino and international readers. It provides glimpses on Philippine society in general using the sport as a vehicle. Bartholomew is one very observant guy, and he seems to sense the spirit of the sport even in the most mundane environments. Of course, it helps that he appears to be very congenial, being friendly with his neighbors, the people he just met on the street, celebrities, and basketball players.

Bartholomew can get technical with his description of the different elements of the game. And these are the parts where my eyes simply glazed over. But I think these couldn't be helped but be included though, as these pedantic descriptions established how the sport is played differently in the Philippines. It also showed the level of knowledge of the writer on the sport. Oy, Bartholomew's expertise on the sport is certainly impressive.

Pacific Rims, while it comes off as a charming work of nonfiction, is one of those rare works that is extremely academic and wonderfully entertaining at the same time. Even I, who would flee at the mere mention of the sport, had a jolly good time reading it.

Read this book if:

1. You can't get enough of basketball.
2. You're curious as to why Filipinos are so in love with this sport.
3. You know that white guys can jump, and if they don't, they just write one helluva book.

Going loco over this local detective novel

I keep hearing the fact that there are no serial killers in the Philippines. "It's just not in our nature," my fellow Filipinos would say. But here's the thing: perhaps we just don't have enough data, and people haven't made the connections among the murders to conclude that there are indeed serial killers here in the country. Of course, I would like to believe there aren't any, but I'm open to the idea that I could be wrong.

In F. H. Batacan's novel Smaller and Smaller Circles, the premise is that a serial killer is preying on 12- to 13-year-old boys residing in a notorious dumpsite, and that the killings happen every 1st Saturday of the month. As if the thought isn't chilling enough, the bodies are found with their faces, genitals, and hearts missing. None of the boys though appear to have been sexually abused.

There are some elements in Batacan's work that makes it an unconventional detective novel. The detectives are 2 Jesuit priests, who really are very streetsmart despite having come from upper class families. The dynamic between these two men of the cloth is something we've seen before though. The older one was the former teacher of the younger. One is refined and reserved, and the other a bit brash and outspoken. But their partnership works. Batacan didn't litter her chapters with overboard scenes on how these two different personalities complement one another.

Another thing that makes this unconventional is the setting, which is a locale in a third world country with hardly any high-tech forensic equipment. The novel really becomes centered on the abilities of the two lovable Jesuits, who somehow discover the identity of the killer nowhere near the end of the novel. The last few chapters of Smaller and Smaller Circles deal with the eventual capture of the killer, which I think is a bit anticlimatic. I was hoping for a twist though, something along the lines of the movie 'The Silence of the Lambs', but it wasn't meant to be.

Batacan's award-winning novel was published 10 years ago, and I feel a small tinge of guilt for not having heard of it before. Thank goodness that one of the book clubs featured this short novel last weekend during the ReaderCon. I just had to get a copy after hearing good things about it.

Read this book if:

1. You like your detective novels unconventional.
2. You'll read anything that's won a Palanca.
3. You're a sucker for word-of-mouth publicity.

Judging the essay anthologies

Last month, I was invited to be one of the judges for the essay anthologies nominated for the 1st Readers' Choice Awards. Hmmm... Maybe I can finally put my opinionated book-ish thoughts to good use. Still, I had  my apprehensions, as I've never judged anything literary before. Well, except for student essays and papers.

Dear reader, I'm so glad I accepted, as the three anthologies were a joy to read. They couldn't be very similar with one another. Reading each book was definitely a rewarding experience.

Tweet Sering's Astigirl chronicled the events of one woman's life as she decides to be more in control of her life. Ambeth Ocampo's Chulalongkorn's Elephants collects his scholarly yet readable essays on Philippine history in the context of Asia. Finally, Bebang Siy's humorous It's a Mens World features essays that are so hysterically funny.

All the nominated writers made it a point to make the essays very personal, especially those of Sering and Siy. But even Ocampo made his book personal by recounting his travel experiences in various Asian cities.

So if you're looking for a different kind of reading material, why not try these three superb collections? And I hope you love reading them as much as I did.