The Storytelling Project piqued my interest the first time I happened on it. I like stories. When I was young, Papa would tell us tales about farm, soldiers and God every night until sleep rolled over us. We also used to keep two drawers of children's books in the living room. Rapunzel, Rumpelstiltskin, and books... Continue Reading →
Warning: Long article ahead. I've told most parts of this 'accident story' countless times, but I desire to preserve the memory of the actual incident here, quite in detail, no matter how traumatic. Perhaps, I'm doing a desensitization, or I just don't want its lessons to disintegrate with time. Here it goes. I woke differently that... Continue Reading →
Writers fill the earth. You can see them thronging on social media - a screenshot-worthy status, that perfect IG caption, a serial novel on FB Notes. Now here you are, an aspiring writer, thinking, My gosh, they are awesome. How can they express themselves that well? Also, what with those words you didn't know exist? Subjugate. (What... Continue Reading →
I had this habit, when I was little, of sitting on a stool beside our stereo casette player every midday. I would listen to worship songs and sing along with Don Moen or Steve Kuban or whose voice that was. A lyric card lie unfolded on my hand. No one in my clan scolded me for... Continue Reading →
"Now comes the big question: What are you going to write about? And the equally big answer: Anything you damn well want. Anything at all...as long as you tell the truth." - Stephen King, On Writing I've not been writing as much lately. I want to. No, I desire it. But each time I try,... Continue Reading →
Ever since I opened Scribblory (my writing business), I keep getting this nagging thought of you-don't-have-the-right-to-do-this or you-are-not-good-enough. You see, there is this glaring fact that I have no formal training in writing nor any huge accomplishment in the craft save, of course, my dear memoir, Finding You, which has not found a seat in the "Best-Selling Books"... Continue Reading →
Blankness. These fingers freeze atop the letter keys. Man, I have nothing to say. Is that possible? What words can be found in silence, in emptiness, in void? But am I really silent? Am I empty? Is this heart void? Or it's just that... there are things I choose to leave unsaid excitement I want... Continue Reading →
I never imagined myself getting a hand on any type of business. The term "business" used to sound foreign to me. It may run in my blood since my mother's family used to own businesses, and my parents themselves built one before. But I never explored that world, never attended any seminar about it. I... Continue Reading →
I've seen Baybay before the typhoon "Yolanda" marred its beauty. My parents had to work there, and they brought me with them. For weeks, we stayed in some sort of a village near the sea. We had a hostel to inhabit - the one that was walking distance from the shore. Every morning, I would... Continue Reading →
