A Story for Children

Since the results are out, and we didn't win, I believe it's okay for me to post an entry about another children's book competition Leir and I joined in. (We are not allowed, however, to publish the entire book online, because we have already given the rights to reproduce the story.) The last time we did this, we got the second spot, and now, we own no spot, but we still had fun. Reading Leir's story, which target is most likely 11-year-olds and the competition's target is preschool, it is reasonable why we got that spot (i.e. no spot). Well, I (or we) like the story--reason enough to compete.  Also, thanks to the competition for the deadline, else we might not be able to finish the book.

Title page

     Unlike the previous one, They Could Not Play, Leir did not just write the story, he also did the illustrations for this one. What I only did is to color and lay-out. I partly pissed my writer friend in the process because the original plan is for me to use watercolors, but instead, I took pictures of his illustrations using my phone, and outline and color the images in Photoshop. With effort, I pleased him with a likeable coloring technique, and we were able to submit our final draft to the staff behind the competition 30 minutes before the deadline.
     A Story For Children, a 15-page story, is not actually for children, especially when the themes single parenting, death of loved one, sacrifice, and Oedipus (even Electra) complex are implicitly presented by it. Basically, it is a story about a boy who has a supermom fighting the monsters in his room. You'll be happy if the story ends there, it'll save you from the emotional torture the story provides in the succeeding pages. It's good. I'm not even biased here, I asked Jovi, and she said "Yeah, it is."

Sample pages

     Along with this another storybook writing experience, I got to read one of the winning pieces in a nursery school. It would be twice as awesome if they allowed me to read our story, but I don't want to see crying kids, or do I? Anyway, my spectator brother told me that I seem so used to reading stories to a bunch of little ones . (Justifiable, he added, because I used to play teacher calling myself Miss Amelia when I was 7.)
    I look forward to being a part of similar projects in the future. My mental age won't go up to 12 until I exhausted the possibilities.

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I made an ask.fm account under my college or organizational nickname, Sir Paul. I answered "Dr. Seuss" in response to the question "Shakespeare or Marlowe?" Not a very good move, but I do like Dr. Seuss. It must be obvious by now why.

Don't Wanna Lie

I can associate the title to two things I am currently fangirl-ing on: (1) B'z; and (2) Detective Conan (DC). Both are influences by my partner, who is quite busy busying me with these, so I could refrain doing nonsensical activities, such as saying that the pilot episode of Once Upon a Time is good. Don't Wanna Lie is a song written and performed by a Japanese rock band, B'z, and is used as one of the opening songs of one of the most popular, and highly regarded, Japanese anime, DC (also known as Case Closed), based on the manga with the same title.

Failed attempt to write Japanese characters

     Upon hearing a few songs by the mentioned band a few months ago, I was already convinced to look for their albums and singles. This year is actually the 25th year of the band, and they recently released two album compilations featuring their songs since 1988. If you haven't heard about them, or if you had but didn't express much interest before, I suggest you watch this 43-minute digest, featuring their most popular songs through the years:

     Unlike B'z, I am 80% certain this time, that you have come across DC at least once in your life. If you haven't, then I would be partly delighted to know that I'm not the only caveman around. Last year, my view is consistent that the anime and manga is just about a young detective shrunk into a boy by the bad guys, who stumbles on many intriguing murder cases almost every day. Despite the manga's 19 lively years, It is just this year that I was told and I personally discovered the interesting characters and character developments, and amazingly executed plot twists, present in the DC world.
     There you have it! Comment if you like them or started liking them, so we can hype together.

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A sketchwalk was actualized yesterday, and I'm quite glad for being a part of it even if it was just for a few minutes. I haven't drawn anything for a long while, and the event pushed me to exercise my drawing skill again.
     Also, I finished layouting a blog this morning. I'll tell you about it if the design's approved.

I Was There and Here at the Same Time

Today's the first time after my last birthday that someone asked for my age. Reasonable, since I turned 19 only yesterday. It took me 5 seconds to convince myself that I'm not that old, and 50 minutes to realize that I'm actually happy to be a year older. A birthday has more perks anyway--financial and material gifts, food, definite time period for people to sincerely think about your well-being, and license to be free.
     The biggest contributors to yesterday's memorability are: (1) the lack of excessive food on the table; (2) the absence of a random Facebook friend who dropped by in my page to post only the acronym "HBD"; (3) the gift of freedom from my mom to select a suitable gift for myself; and, most especially, (4) these:

--the assurance that I will have better days than the ones I had, from the one who has been providing me that already.

Tilad-Kaniguan and Flyleaf

When I was 18, I became the chairperson of a literary organization composed of a bunch of teenagers and young adults with habits of a grade-school student and brains of a sane mental patient. My term started a month before my 17th, and ended 3 months before my 19th birthday. You can say that between these dates, I spent more than a considerable amount of time attempting to bring something new to the little audience the organization has and the potential crowd of interested spectators. With the help and initiative of my co-officers and of course, our moderator, the organization grew from the usual brainstorming and intangible speeches to digital formats and published papers.
     For the last project of my team, and as strongly supported by the current Ateneo Literary Association (ALA--the organization), we planned to launch, and launched Tilad-Kaniguan, a compilation of all the Tilad online folio we were able to accomplish from November until February, and Flyleaf, the organization's first annual publication, last April. I was the layout artist for the latter, and assisted in the layouting process for the former. This is partly the reason why I was gone in this online community for a whole month. (Mainly, it was because of Detective Conan. You cannot really blame me.)

Photos by Allan Camata/Pen Prestado

     Click the following images if you want to check both papers:

     Along with the organization, I grew restless yet satisfied. I'm still 18 years old, but not for long. Looking back to that twisted year, I can hardly regret anything. It wasn't perfect. In fact, it's one of the years I've commited many mistakes. It's also one of the years, however, that I was able to choose the up-until-now right decisions.

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A few days ago, I founded a personal project in Facebook, RERUNS. Its goal is to collect 300-word-or-less nonfictions. The founder would be very much delighted if you contribute.

Having the World

I owe you no explanation, but if I were to be hung for secrecy (because, apparently, this generation does not respect their privacy well enough that they even publish a good account of their rest room experience), I would happily bombard the world with detailed stories about my recent activities that might make all religious institutions doubt their respective gods.
     No, not really. If eating M&M's Minis is a sign of rebellion, then that might be possible. In this war, however, I strongly believe that the capitalists would be on my side. Well, let's not get too far. Even if it's probable in an alternate universe for a sudden shift in history just because of me eating M&Ms, it is impossible here, unless I'm a queen of a 1st world community, and terrorists put poison in my bowl of candy-coated chocolates. To assure your safety, I'm not of noble blood. I'm a commoner, just like a queen.
     Kidding aside, I am not not not a queen. My current situation allows me to imagine that I am in a certain extent though. I have nothing to do here at home but to eat, drink, take a bath, watch, send, read, play, think, and not post all of this on Instagram or Facebook. I do go out to plan an event, actualize that event, hang out with my partner, and attend an art-literature exhibit. Sometimes, when I get extra lucky, he would visit me here carrying a box of pizza, like what he did today.

     Along with my favorite pizza, he also gave me his treasured Panic! at the Disco CD, featuring selected songs from the band's first two albums performed live, and a Death Note.

He's quite persistent on reaching me, it's troublesome. I do talk to you though.

     I wasn't a P!atD fan for a long time. It wasn't even a long time ago when I started developing good pair of ears. My first exposure to my so-called good music is Vampire Weekend, then comes Regina Spektor, Elizabeth and the Catapult, Amy Winehouse, Maroon 5, and so on. Bittersweet, a bonus sound track in Vices and Virtues, is the first P!atD song I like enough to memorize, and to look for the band's earlier albums. Leir influenced me to fan-girl over the band, and Fall Out Boy. I often sing Camisado and The (Shipped) Gold Standard in the shower.

I thought that you are one of them.

     Thanks to a former classmate for introuducing to me Death Note during my freshman year in college. Yes, I was this late and I live in a cave. The series might be a factor why I chose to name myself "Apple" in school. I have no intention of using the notebook for my history class. I might use it to take note of names during a hateable author's book signing.
      After watching Liberal Arts, and having a short conversation, he went back to his temporary home. And after 3 hours from his departure, I can still not thank him enough for giving me more than some things I can blog about.

My Brother Turned 22 Today

Yesterday, we (I, my family and partner) went to SeaScape Beach Resort (Pasacao, Camarines Sur) to celebrate my brother's birthday, but mostly to swim and sleep.

     I swam for less than 30 minutes, solely because I get dizzy whenever I do not wear my glasses for a long time. I had a long conversation with Kuya Ken, Am, Jian, and Leir, about practicality, infidelity, and funny TV commercials. I also slept for a few hours in the beach, particularly on a hammock shaped like a horizontal cocoon. I was expecting I would turn into a butterfly, or a prettier human being at least, but I did not. Nature tells me that I'm pretty enough already. It cannot afford any too-much for me, I believe. And that's it.

     I need to rest. I evidently need one.

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I started layouting Flyleaf, the official publication of the Ateneo Literary Association (ALA), two days ago. Leir checked it yesterday. He said it's cool, but he didn't like my layout for his article, which is... okay. I will edit the spreads anyway. The launching of the paper will be on 6 April 2013. After that, Leir will go back to Cavite, and I'll just have to cry in one corner everyday.

Kony's Boring Photographs

As I try to get over from things I missed, I find out that there's no better way to do this than to read (Mark Twain, specifically his A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court) and to review the past photos I took with Kony¹. Being an 18-year-old with serious identity problems, I cannot seem to commit myself with something serious, such as professional photography or anything that has the word "professional" in it. The pictures I took reflects this attitude, for they're grounded on the mundane. Take for instance, the following photos:

     And I'm happy with these. Perhaps someday I would try learning other photography techniques, but it is very clear to me, that that someday, at least now, can hardly qualify as "soon."

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1 Kony, a Nikon D3000 and a racist camera (--apparently his "subject is too dark" comments are not always taken lightly by its other users--),  is one of my prized possessions (whose name I got from a leader of a guerilla group) along with Soul, my laptop, and Jeanne, my phone. I have this odd (i.e. awesome) habit of naming things with the names of nonfiction villains and/or conquerors. Soul is actually just short for Mussolini, you know.

On Lemony Snicket's All the Wrong Questions 1: Who Could That Be at This Hour?

"There's an easy method for finding someone when you hear them scream. First get a clean sheet of paper and a sharp pencil. Then sketch out nine rows of fourteen squares each. Then throw the piece of paper away and find whoever is screaming so you can help them. It is no time to fiddle with paper." CHAPTER 9

Allow me to quote a single thing Stephanie Meyer has said about all the books she reviewed plus Edward Cullen: "Beautiful!" Well, this book is, unless: (1) you are not a fan of Snicket's witty writing style; (2) you haven't read or you didn't like reading A Series of Unfortunate Events (ASoUE); or (3) you are either too young or too old. You see, books like this have a definite target, and that is Snicket fans. That's a good thing for a fan, actually. You can save-up money for the book, not worrying if the local bookstore would run out of it. Interestingly, however, the last time I went to National Bookstore, they only have one copy left.
     Going back, I can say that I'm a fan of Lemony (and how I usually simulate in my mind Jude Law's voice while reading Snicket's books). Leir is a big-fan of him, and I'm the mini-fan--the one on the last row of viewers on Daniel Handler's (that is Lemony Snicket's "handler"--check the internet, dummy) book signing. That is mostly because I didn't grew up with the Baudelaires (ASoUE's protagonists). I was already 18 when I was influenced by my partner to read the series. But being an eternal child inside this maturing body, I received the books and its humor and tragedy quite well. The books confirmed my theory that I'll be forever 11.

     As you may probably know, this book is an account of the young Snicket, before he spent years unveiling the Baudelaire sibling's mystery adventure. It is still innocent to the graver danger the Snicket we have come to know earlier had faced. The same writing style is, of course, applied--defined relatively difficult words, foreshadowings, comedic tragedies, unresolved issues, and hints regarding the next book. I can imagine a non-fan screaming "That's it?" upon discovering that there's no chapter left, and a fan smiling that Lemony has maintained his character. As a mini-fan, I await for the succeeding installments to reunite with characters I have loved and hated since ASoUE, and engage with Lemony's stories (and how he treats them).

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We lost internet connection for a week, I learned how to swear.

They Could Not Play

I finished illustrating Leir's story for the children's storybook competition hosted by our school's guidance center last Wednesday. It wasn't that easy (thanks to the inavailability of a scanner) for I have to do all the illustrations directly on Soul (my laptop) using Adobe Photoshop's pen tool, ruler, and guide lines. I wasn't able to copy exactly my original character designs for the story's protagonists, Jack and Jill, but I think I did a good job coming up with a cute version of the characters still. Kuya Ken told me that they look like me when I was younger. That is proof enough that they're adorable (at least physically).

Sample page

     The competition's theme is gender equality, that Leir and I decided that the character be twins, who are, as innocent as they are, have no concept of their difference in terms of gender. Leir's first draft of the story was amusing enough to inspire me to work on it harder than I ever did with my previous artworks. It's just tragic that he has to trim the story to fit the requirements of the competition, which limits the writers to use only 250 words. I think this is a good practice, however, for the word-count was able to set boundaries, else we might end up writing a lengthy piece without much quality content. (Leir is a different story though--the longer the piece, the meatier it is.)

Title page

   
     Leir suggested the title They Could Not Play for the story after recommending the titles A Feasibility Study on Children's Perspective on Gender Equality and The Children Could Not Play. We even got into a fight finalizing the title, because he said that I seem not too impressed with the title, but I am. I really am. What the hell is wrong with my facial expressions?
     Gab also submitted his story, Forest Friends, to the competition. I took the trouble of looking for someone not that busy to finish 5 or more illustrations in just one day. Luckily Van, Monique, and Tina were bored enough to take the job. Sir Jay told me that only Leir's and Gab's stories were submitted to the competition, which, in many levels, sucks. It sucks. I hope that's not true, not because I wanted to win, if ever we will win, against a larger number of participants, but because... yes, it's mostly because of that.

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Ateneo Literary Association (ALA) won 4 awards during the 2nd Student Organizations' Awards and Recognition (SOAR) Night held in the Arrupe Convention Hall, Ateneo de Naga University, last Monday. As the organization's chairperson this school year, I couldn't be any more proud of them. Keep it up, ALA.

Days in Minutes #1

The previous week, the fifth Tilad online literary folio, entitled Kamoot, of the Ateneo Literary Association (ALA) was launched. Since the organization's usual layout artist, Kuya Pen, was busy working on his pieces for the SOLARA Art Exhibit in school, I took the job, with the help of my brother, Kuya Ken. The folio is posted here, and all photographs in it were taken by me. Tilad launchings were usually held in the school's Thesis Room, but the new officers of ALA decided to use the Leonardo's Lounge, for this venue suits the theme more. It was very windy there though that the projector screen kept on turning away from us, and the candles were not lit.
     I also became a part of the Gawad SSG this year. It's a recognition night wherein the student government of the university would present awards to students who excelled in their respective fields. I was a nominee in the Student Leader category. I didn't win, as expected, but the dessert (a buko pandan cake with a white chocolate piece on top) worth more than the trophy, so maybe, I did.
      What's more interesting than the two events mentioned, is the 3-hour trip Leir and I took yesterday to Legazpi, the 1-hour stay, and the 3-hour trip back here. We went there to witness this:

I bought Katcher nin Buray (don't ask for a translation, the book's hilarious!) by Mon Suanoy and Mga Tulang Tulala by Kristian Cordero.

     Leir asked me to cover it for ALA's publication, Flyleaf, which will be released on March. And I took the opportunity to take more photos:

     I spent more time sleeping during the whole trip. It's a good thing my pillow's with me. He almost always is, by the way.

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I've been busy illustrating Leir's story for the storybook competition in school. This day's a slow day, however, for I've been stuck drawing Daddy. I don't know how to draw men, evidently.

World Domination

Leir and I never had a decent photo together. I am always the one taking pictures, and he is always the one moving away from the frame, or hiding his face. Both of us are experts in covering our smiles or any part of our face before the shutter closes. And someone might have have a good photo of our backs, but he really cannot be sure if it is us in there. It is as if we were never seen together.

     We started dating about a year ago. I was never really sure when, like the date was as blurred as the last photo I took with him as the subject, and he immediately looked away. It was through a short discussion that we agreed that we started on the 15th of February, 2012, based on the following grounds: (1) he confessed on the 14th; and (2) I held his hand the next day. We had a year parallel to a moving picture, played twice as fast, and cannot be stopped. The protagonists were never really seen in each moving frame, but they're there, behind the white wall, behind the camera man, behind Gordon-Levitt. I never got tired watching, and playing as the tree, or sometimes, as the pillow, or more often, as the girl on a small boat, rowing with him, conquering territories.

       "I hereby declare this 15 February 2013 the world successfully conquered," he wrote on a tissue paper. I'm working on Mars--that's just one thing I can guarantee. 

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I went to Bicol University last Wednesday, for a friendly debate. I think we won.

Tilad-Kaabtan: Esperanza

Around a month ago, I took photos for Leir's short story, Esperanza, which he submitted to the fourth Tilad online literary folio, Kaabtan, of the Ateneo Literary Association (ALA [an organization we're both in]). I actually promised him an illustration, but because of me easily forgetting things, I wasn't able to draw, so I tried to make it up to him by taking the following pictures:

"By 'oh, but—' I knew that the poor boy meant to follow, 'what about us?' I had seen too many of these situations that if I had a heart, it would have broken, no shattered, into a million tiny hearts, and those hearts would split into another million tiny hearts, and so on until they become so tiny they would pass up as sand. They would then create a sandstorm and take vengeance for me." - Esperanza, John Leir Castro

     I told Kuya Pen, the folio's layout artist, to just select one or two. Click this to find out what he picked, to read Leir's prose, and to view the entire folio itself.

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Leir's parents are awesome. I got the chance to meet them yesterday, a bad-hair day. They were polite enough not to mention the hair, hence, they're awesome. The dad's an interior designer, the mom's pretty, and they make a good couple. And Leir's awesome enough to qualify as their son. I was only able to stay with them for an hour or less. Nevertheless, I'm still entitled to say that they're cool, because they are. You could weep three hours per day, and you would still be not as cool as them.

Bookstore #1

There is a top secret bookstore somewhere, quite far from this wooden chair I'm currently disrupting the time continuum with. Since it's again a top secret, I cannot, of course, reveal to you where it is, ergo you would have no means of checking if I am lying or not. I have pictures, however. But you cannot be completely sure with just that too.

As to where these books came from, I don't know.

   
     There is a bookstore, run by nuns, not known to most people, and is far from here. I went there with Jovi, Leir, and Kuya Pen on a windy Tuesday, and with Leir on a rainy Thursday. My goal was to buy philosophical texts, and fiction stories written by known philosophers, that will hopefully help me in writing my future papers. Also, because I secretly dream of becoming a children's book illustrator, I checked the bookstore's stash of... illustrated children's book. Now, that's just unpredictable.
     The goal is just to fancy everything up. I was a hired photographer, actually. The place is going to be featured by a friend, Jovi, for her article in a newsletter, called Flyleaf, the organization I am a member of will be making. Leir's the EIC, and I'm a bored noob photographer. The books are just bonuses.

Maybe, there is a god up there, you know.

   
     During the first day, that is the windy Tuesday, I got all the interesting philosophy books, and placed it on Leir's box of mysteries (fictional), tales, and conspiracies. I was lucky enough to get a copy of Macchiavelli's The Prince, Sartre's The Wall (a compilation of short stories), and Plato's Socratic Dialogues. I cannot not recognize buying L'engle's A Wrinkle in Time, a children's novel and a personal favorite of Leir. And on the second day, the rainy Thursday, I bought Camus' The Outsider (The Stranger), and Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh. All of them are worth 10-pesos each, by the way, since the place is a piece of heaven and I am more blessed than you are.

...or good people. They're not that taboo, after all. 

   
     This bookstore's just one of the many unpopular bookstores here in my place. I promised Jovi that I'll take photos of, if possible, all of them. Or she might abandon the project altogether, leaving me with noth-- Hep, I got books, I should be fine.

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When creating  a new blog, writers are supposed to introduce themselves first, then post their very first article about something else apart from their overt narcissism. The reason why I skipped that part is because this is not new. I'm not a new blogger. I'm, rather, a lazy college student who actually started blogging when she was in high school as Fumbled Apple, got bored with constantly reporting her interests online, and resumed when she was already a sophomore in college as Orangenlime of Tumblr. Evidently, she got tired of that too. Someday this blog is going to be deserted like books on the 8th day of a garage sale.