Day Five: Coordinate a Group Event

Did this through another friend, Trisha–who invited our friends to watch films at the Brazilian Film Festival, which is ongoing at the UP Film Institute ’til next week. (I still had part in the planning, okay?) I actually just got home from watching O Homem da Capa Preta (The Man in the Black Cape) with Trisha and Anne. It’s a true-to-life movie about Tenorio Cavalcanti, a Brazilian congressman who showed his patriotism by wearing a cape in public and beating the hush-hush violence of elitist politicians with his own breed of one-man mafia-style violence. The movie’s gone grainy and reminds one of ’90s Robin Padilla and Rudy Fernandez movies on the lives of men who rubbed elbows with the Philippines’ most notorious gangs, warlords, etc.–all in the name of justice. Or sweet revenge. Nardong Putik, anyone?

Day Six: Get Coffee with a Co-Worker (Or in my case, a classmate)

I’m hoping to invoke a retroactive effect for this one–since I spent September 6 with my mother, my readings, the current issue of Time Magazine and then my bed. The last time I was out for coffee with anyone was at my insistence, anyway–my classmate Pip and I spent hours til the closing of the Starbucks at SM North poring through the pages of this month’s Cosmo, which has the Cosmo Top Bachelors List or something as a supplement. Ran out of post-its while grading each of the guys for Face, Body and Brains, so in the end we had to draw on the pages themselves–sometimes, Perez Hilton-style. Sorry, guys! Anyway, the issue wasn’t as impressive as the previous ones. I remember enjoying a past Bachelors List with Akihiro Sato on the cover the most sometime in 2007/08! It’s sad that we couldn’t go to the Bachelor Bash with our girlfriends next week. Why of all days does it have to be on a Thursday, and all the way at the World Trade Center!

Oh well.

Here’s one meme I’d like to take part in though, for once–GOOD magazine’s 30-Day Challenge for September to Connect with People. Like I said about all the memes I’d missed out on recently, I’ve felt really alienated from literally all the people I knew before law school since I entered law school. I’d like to reconnect. It’s a bit scary ‘coz the challenge might prod me to try to talk to people I have no intention of ever talking with again, but oh well, I’ll see when I get there. Maybe it might even be therapeutic. It helps to be tres serene in case I have to bid the world goodbye a little earlier than scheduled. In Manila it’s already the 5th of September, but since it’s only Sunday noon in the U.S., I’ve only got four days to make up for. The other challenges though, I’ve managed to comply with already, quite fortuitously on the days on which they were posted.

So yeah, let’s see how this goes!

* * *

DAY ONE: Send someone a postcard.

How timely has Challenge No. 1 come! I just got a few free postcards of the Cityscapes project which I’ve been blogging for for Goethe Institut-Manila, and since I am one who collects but does not wish to part with any of her postcards, I might as well send these new ones to my friends abroad. I regret that I’m not in touch with them more often but hopefully this tilts the scales back to equilibrium.

* * *

DAY TWO: Have a conversation with a service employee.

Day 2 was a Friday. After a short trip to Makati where I did not participate in any conversation whatsoever, and refused to eat my first meal of the day until it was time to go back to Quezon City, I found myself in Trinoma, where service employees abound. The problem with a challenge like this, if applied to Philippine society, is that the boundaries between customer and employees are so vivid, it’s almost impossible for a friendly conversation to arise from a sales transaction. In the States, it obviously could work–store workers do not address customers as Ma’am or Sir; they certainly don’t greet them with “Good Morning Mam/Ser!” and follow them around the store. They say, “Hi! How may I help you today?” and are not hesitant to offer their take on… for example, how attractive those boots look on you. Save for the perfunctory Starbucks barista-friendliness that’s notorious worldwide, it’s one thing I admire about consumerism & capitalism in the US: employees are also people, their jobs don’t define them and the way they could interact with people who come in through the front door. (But yes, of course, like all things in the world, we are all  just prisoners of our social classes and economic systems…)

Anyway, I did talk a bit with the saleslady at Payless Shoe Store on Day Two. It was a bit disappointing though that after I’d offered really personal information, like how my feet are too small for Size 8s but too big for 7 1/2s, she would just reply in a rehearsed fashion about how it all depends on style without really coming to my assistance and picking out her own suggestions from off the shelf. She would turn, however, to her companion, a gay guy, whom she was assuring that they both have a chance of receiving incentives this month because they scored high on the customer evaluations last August. Maybe it just wasn’t my day, that day.

I also had a long-ish conversation with a Greenpeace volunteer who coaxed me into signing a membership form. It was too soon to give financial information for contributions, though, and having that fact in mind (that they really only need my donation) certainly made the conversation less enjoyable–even though in theory it was actually quite pleasant. These organizations need to think of new fundraising strategies! I wonder how much they actually make with such ambush salestalking.

* * *

DAY THREE: Share an Old Photo with  a Friend

~Will update this later, once I’ve dug through my hard drive for really old photos.~ There’s a reason, though, why I don’t do this more often when I could–like post old photos on Facebook because they’re already in my hard drive, or because it’s really easy to scan: I don’t want to. Most of my old photos are with old friends. Emphasis on OLD.

I know, I know, that’s the point of the challenge. Will try harder.

* * *

DAY FOUR: Ask a Relative What They Did Today

I’ll also do this later. It’ll take a lot of guts. Or I could cheat by asking the aunt who raised me and who lives with us at home. Hah.

If I have friends/readers who are also up for the 30-Day Challenge, please share your adventures with me too.

I do not exaggerate when I say the city needs that much renovation, nor do I simply take off from what in the last year has become a very popular catchphrase in the country (“major, major”, because of this). I say it because the last ten years has seen parts of the city enshrouded in the most unlikely, and dare I say it, the most awful of color schemes—thanks to political and tourism campaigns that fail and change as quickly as people in position do.

Read the rest of this piece here.

So many things have changed, I can say for sure. My mother commented on local TV stations airing their regular fanfare, “Dati talaga Lunes Santo pa lang mga makabagbag-damdaming tugtog na at palabas ang laman ng TV!” I do remember spending Holy Week as a kid watching classic Filipino movies–my first taste of Bernal, Brocka, Nora Aunor and Christopher de Leon were had then, and only then, because my mother never gave in to my vehement pleas to please equip our humble television with cable subscription. (Bababa daw ang grades ko.) My father, on the other hand, has been asking if I had any movies on my computer that were “appropriate for Holy Week.” Fun. Apparently the season really does have an effect on some people.

For me, on the other hand, this week is more significantly known as My First Real Week Out of College. Although I’m still swamped with part-time, freelance work, I can say that my detox program for five years worth of caffeine and all-nighters has started. I am infusing my days with more movement (haha, guess what I’ve been doing?), and I wanna embark on a journey away from sugar, inspired by this!

I better get back to work now and finish every last sentence up, so that I could fully enjoy next week’s trip to Cebu with my best friend. It’s also my first real grown-up trip! I’ve taken many trips before but they were either official academic trips or visits to destinations where my parents knew someone who would watch after me (and report to them!) Haha. This is gonna be legen-darrrry!

But for the longest time, people in this city have turned a blind eye to any evidence of it—despite the rampancy of sexually-charged billboards of showbiz icons on national roads, streamers of motels promising the best value for so little, girls in bikinis dancing on noontime television daily. Even a sign on a Philippine jeepney that reads: “I am not responsible for anything lost in this vehicle. Including virginity,” does not stir much civil alarm and complaint. It’s as much a shocker as it is an everyday thrill for the fun-loving Filipino.

Continue reading here.

And true enough, like Information for Foreigners, when stepping in to the studio theater that was a temporary home for Macbeth (and the screens), one is immediately brought into a similar world of, or in chaos, directed to take this or that seat in a sea of chairs lodged where the cross of a stage isn’t—a foreshadowing for things to come, an experience more akin to taking a stand, for there are specific things you see from where you are in the box setup, and naturally, things you don’t.

Indeed, point of view matters a lot in this adaptation of Macbeth. There are the points of view of the audience, each of the characters’, and the screen’s—on which are projected not only backgrounds that accentuate the bloodshed or aid the play in producing emotional stimuli, but also provide points on which we draw the play’s contemporary connection to Philippine living. Characters that figure in the news come alive on the screen, and we recognize the likeness of human folly then and now, and there in Macbeth’s reality and here, in ours. Our state is run by strong men who figure in battles and banquets and that’s how we see them in the media, but now the screen becomes an embodiment of their human condition—their fears, dreams and their corruption, especially, in light of recent events in national politics. The three witches in Macbeth are always a joy to watch and it is interesting how Juan approached their characters, and how they delivered. What they spoke remains unknown to me, like it is to Macbeth, but I can only imagine that their speaking in tongues is where they relive certain myths that attest to the imperfection of humanity, further localizing it to the Philippine regions—the places our leaders don’t often see, the marginalized, the off-centers where much potential is held but from where few things are heard.

There are many things in the play to cause discomfort—even fear—in the audience. Props fall from everywhere, characters appear at different spots and walk around sending chills down the spines of those seated near the white sheets that temporarily demarcate the world of the theater, and even the swords come within an arm’s length of several of the front row seaters. Like in most Shakespeare tragedies brought onstage, so much depends on the visual rather than the lines, and so the play banks on this visual treat with which they hope to provide an impetus for the audiences to think differently about issues both of personal and national interest, a hope that the play could capitalize on the viewers’ unease, for them to take part in the discussion of these matters as expected of students in the University. But this dependence on the visual over the text also becomes problematic, as at times, especially two hours into the play, I find that I am more interested in the project of the production rather than the play itself—I was merely wondering what other tricks were up the cast’s sleeves. In this sense I feel like ambition has trumped realization, but of course Macbeth is a widely staged play and thespians and playwrights of today have stretched it to all sorts of imaginable lengths, so any new experiment is most, and always, welcome.

It’s been three years since I was last in one of the Shakespeare classes of Judy Ick, this production’s dramaturg and most lovely Lady Macbeth. I remember from that time that even the play was already a long time coming, and I am most glad that I was able to see it onstage before leaving the University. I could say, too, that I couldn’t imagine a Lady Macbeth more fitting, more knowledgeable about how one should be played, she is the heart and soul of the play, and lucky for us, this production’s. I have little to say about the acting, which I found exemplary, except for some of the actors’ enunciation of The Bard’s most prized lines. While the three witches conversed and sang in the vernacular, I wasn’t all that sure with what accent the other actors are trying to keep up with. I suppose it comes out of too much expectation from a set of actors trying to keep up with the tandem of Teroy Guzman and Judy Ick, who have perfected their lines and characters beyond mastery. At least by the end of the play, all was well, no blood was shed, and there was only the rain to bear.

Continue reading here.

Who are they and what do they do?

As an editor, academician or publisher, you may have played the role of a literary agent before—only it was a friend or a colleague that you helped get his or her work published, and you got paid either with dinner, a Christmas basket or a bottle of wine. Literary agents are usually individuals who have past experience in publishing, filmmaking, teaching, writing and other related fields. They are most valued for their connections not only in the publishing industry, but in many of the creative industries—they do the pitching and marketing of manuscripts for writers so that they could be turned into books, or movie deals, or even a whole new line of merchandise.

Literary agents are not like a Queen Latifah to a writer’s block-inflicted Emma Thompson, a la Stranger than Fiction. They are busy people who deal strictly with business, but not that they are grim-looking executives who only wear suits, shades and a frown on their faces all the time. It’s just that they expect that the manuscripts to be submitted to them for review are finished works and not works in progress. Nor are they editors who proofread and provide constructive criticism—they may do that, of course, but their primary role is to evaluate whether one’s manuscript is worth forwarding to a publisher. Publishers hardly read direct submissions from writers, but are more likely to give it a shot if a manuscript comes in with a recommendation from a literary agent.

So in a sense, a writer does not really “hire” a literary agent when he or she employs the services of one. Because literary agents themselves are building portfolios of successfully published clients, they screen the clients first before reading their manuscripts or agreeing to sign a contract with them. (FYI: Reputable literary agents do not ask their clients for a reading fee.) They usually prefer writers who have previously published works in magazines, journals and books, and those who have received literary awards. These would be especially helpful if one needs a literary agent to have his or her work published internationally as a translated edition.

How do I find them?

Most successful literary agents with their own firms are based in countries where the publishing industry really thrives and employs a sizable percentage of the labor force. Literary agents in the United States, for example, do not only service novel writers, but more often children’s books writers and illustrators, screenplay writers with dreams of breaking into Hollywood, and professionals who want to see their faces in the Self-Help shelves of their local bookstores.

There are a number of online resources for writers in need of literary agents. PublishersMarketplace.Com has everything from a database of agents to announcements of workshops and conferences for writers, as well as job listings for writers and individuals with publishing experience. Writers.Net meanwhile, provides a listing of literary agents by country, including those who are Philippine-based. FilipinoWriter.Com also provides resources for the local literary market and owner and publisher Dino Manrique is more than happy to welcome inquiries from the web sites’ readers.

Web sites are a pretty reliable means to correspond with literary agents, especially if they are based abroad. One only needs to send an e-mail containing a query letter addressed to the agent or a literary agency, as well as an excerpt from the work. If one is looking for an agent who works locally, it might be best to set up a personal meeting after a few correspondences. Most literary agents in the Philippines do not claim the label for themselves yet and merely act as middlemen for writers and publishers, or they may be performing other responsibilities—for example, as administrators for other publications. In case a writer has his eyes on someone who hasn’t really been advertising his services as an agent, it might be helpful if one just asks the person right away and sees where things might go. Also, because it’s a connections game, it’s probably a good idea to just start expanding one’s network—really, who knows where that might lead?

What should be in the contract?

Congratulations, so a literary agent has made a commitment to get your book published! The stipulations of a contract with literary agents and firms vary from case to case. Usually, agents ask for 15% of the total earnings from the publisher, but some may just ask for a fee from the writer. Things get more complicated when books are reprinted or published as new editions, and also depending on whether or not the services of the same literary agent are retained.

There are instances when a writer and an agent may arrange for other services. For example, literary agents can be responsible for organizing a local or international book tour for the author. They can also become representatives for the authors not only publication-wise, but also for other literary engagements like workshops, lectures and conferences. Whatever these services may be, one must be sure to examine carefully all the provisions of the legal documents that agents will provide, so that amendments may be negotiated early on and so that things do not end up messy.

How can I become a literary agent?

It takes a lot of experience and again, connections, for one to thrive as a literary agent in any of the creative industries, so unfortunately, there is no proven prescription for those who want a career as one. It may be good to freelance and do the job on the side, especially if one has a lot of time on his hands. One must not expect too much however, for even writers, especially in the Philippines, do not rely much on the profit that their books bring.

Do not lose hope, though. Beginning writers seeking to establish their credentials, but aren’t brave enough to go looking for agents, have a couple of tools at their disposal, which they could maneuver by themselves, too. Webook.Com allows writers to upload excerpts of their short stories or novels, while other users could read and rate them, deciding later on if they want to read more of it enough to want to recommend it to a literary agent. Top submissions with the highest ratings get reviewed by people in the publishing field.

Literary agents have helped countless numbers of writers get their works out to the world over the years. Indeed, what a great sign of a country’s literary appreciation it would be if literary agencies actually made good business in it. Let’s just hope that the future holds the same for the Philippines.

First published in Bookwatch Magazine, July-December 2010.

Here, we learn to take the matter with emotional ambiguity— sometimes hopeful for the dream of a completely modern, connected and ordered city; sometimes resentful of the decades-long static continuing to envelope the country and its people.

Continue reading here.