The first time I taught Memoir Writing, I had my initial researches in hand which included the wealth of information from a Creative Writing textbook, Memoir Writing guides, actual memoirs, and Google. Still, that heap didn't suffice, for I had an inkling that I was solely looking at the tip of its iceberg. I dug... Continue Reading →
What does victory really mean? I don't know if you find that question typical. I mean, looking at your written and unwritten list of dreams, isn't this easy to answer? But one afternoon while I was watching the sky from our car, I felt like God asked me what victory means specifically to me. Since... Continue Reading →
Memoir is a written narrative of one's personal experience. It's not surprising that most people today do not know what a memoir is when, in fact, there's been a memoir craze going on since 1940's. I think it all began when a discriminated race braved the page with their truth. Through words, they brought people inside... Continue Reading →
My sister was chomping on mushroom balls for breakfast on the day of my surgery. My mouth that was dry minutes ago began to be filled with saliva. "Is it good?" I asked. "Yes," she chuckled, "Stop torturing yourself. You know you're not allowed to eat yet." "Right, 8 hours of fasting. Can't wait to... Continue Reading →
One night, you find yourself listless, sprawled on bed. You are exhausted. Everything you do seem to be failing. You work your fingers to the bone, but you don’t feel an inch closer to your dreams. You sleep the night away; all troubles fading, worries vanishing. You see yourself drifting in space like a bug... Continue Reading →
One day, I found a pile of Newspaper Activity Sheets in the classroom shelf. These were cartolina-sized papers with a layout akin to a newspaper, only that it got boxes and lines to fill in, such as The _______ Times. It also asked interesting questions like What is Your Happiest Experience? My 7-year-old student, Ben, loved reading... Continue Reading →
This story is about a little girl who drops by a music store every day, after school. She, at first, would feel shy to be there, since she knew she wasn't there to buy anything. She was there to look, merely look, for her money wasn't ample. The shop owner, however, accepted her amicably, perhaps,... Continue Reading →
The rain kept on pounding the roof, but the voice recorder went on. We continued the interview. This time, I asked Bro. Razi how their apostolate works. "Every time I talk to these kids, I think of how young they still are, yet they are already concerned of survival, of earning to live. Childhood was stolen... Continue Reading →
The rain was heavy that afternoon. Streets were flooded. Roads were congested. Ever and anon, I flinched at the rumbling thunder. My Grab car waded willy-nilly through the traffic, until finally, at half past 2, I found myself at Our Lady of Annunciation Parish. A moment later, I shook hands with Bro. Razi. He led... Continue Reading →
