*kilig*

This. 

Thanks George and Amal for making us believe in fairy tales again ;-)

Sigh.

Otsukaresama

So okay, I'm about 7,000 words away from my goal and I've about 28 hours left to write. It's below 10 degrees and it's drizzling outside. I've got a slight cough and the sniffles and next week the temperatures might drop below 5 degrees.

I think I'll quit while I'm ahead and say that I'm quite happy with my output this year. And I am. I'm actually amazed that I've written this much in the span of a month. 

Without yayas. Hahaha!

So otsukaresama to all my Nano buddies. We fought a good fight, but now it is time for me to retire and recoup. 

Until we meet again next year!

NaNoWriMo 2014

It's NaNoWriMo time again!

What the heck am I doing blogging when I should be writing? Hahahaha!





Ok, ok, break time over ;-)

On improving our craft

Someone asked me lately how one gets better at writing.

For a moment, I was at a loss for words. And for a writer, that's kind of ironic. Hahaha!

I guess there's really no step-by-step process to writing. It's really a process of trial and error.

All my creative writing classes were the usual ones taught in high school. I remember I tried countless times  to get published in our school paper, and only managed to get an article in on my final year. In college writing took a backseat to the drafting board, though you'd sometimes be surprised at how architects employ creative writing when outlining a project proposal. Hahaha! And before getting published on Youngblood, I had numerous rejected articles.

I tried writing my first book after a summer of immersing myself in Nancy Drew. I think I was eleven or twelve at the time. And fortunately for everybody, that story won't ever see the light of day. Hahaha! But I'm reminded of my early efforts whenever I see stories posted by tweens on Wattpad. I sincerely admire the courage of the young authors who post their work on the site (when I was a kid, no one could peer into my notebooks on threat of death) and open themselves up to critiques. It's harsh sometimes, but if they're open to learning, it's bound to be a great learning process.

But I hope they keep writing. For writers and authors, writing is our exercise, it's how we get better.

Another way is to experience life.

In our first year of college, one of our professors told us to go out, go to discos and motels, attend parties, and island-hop. We were all surprised, weren't we at school to learn? He just laughed at our incredulous faces and said, "You want to be architects? How will you design a disco, a hotel, or an airport if you've never been to one? How can you be an effective designer if you've never experienced using those buildings?"

And he was right. I can still remember my guy friends laughing over a drive-in motel I designed in my second year (I just couldn't get why it couldn't have communal parking. Hahaha!).

I think it's the same with writing. How can you write of heartbreak when your heart has never been broken before? How can you write of pain and of loss and of being deprived when you've been pampered your whole life? How can you write about the romance of the cobbled streets of Rome when you've never tread them? How can you write of sunsets on the beach when you've never been outside the concrete jungle of the city?

Don't get me wrong, some people CAN. Some people have wells of imagination so deep you could drown in them.

But for us who weren't blessed with such imagination or a trust fund to enable us to see the world? Well there's always Google ;-) And don't underestimate the things you can learn from talking to people (with an emphasis on listening).

And read.

I think all writers are readers at heart. And this is another good way to learn, not only about places and people, but also about technique. If you like a particular author, try to analyze what that person is doing right and emulate it.

I say emulate, not copy, because every writer has his own unique voice. All artists start out the same, visual and performance artists start by learning the techniques of masters who have gone before them. Only after they've learned and perfected those techniques are they able to develop techniques of their own. I think there's a parallel in learning how to write.

You want to write romance? Read romances. You want to write sci-fi, mystery, or horror? Then read up on those genres. Soak up the techniques of great authors and let your own voice out.

in the end though, the bottom-line is still this: WRITE

Writers write.

They write when they're happy or sad. They try to capture in words the things they see when they travel. They can make you feel hungry or make your heart race by the words they put on paper.

They write because they need to, because they cannot imagine not ever writing.

So flex those muscles and get writing ;-)

How do you write?

Hi everybody!

I wonder if you're like me and story lines and scenes seem to pop out at the most inconvenient of times. Like when you're washing the dishes or changing a dirty diaper or when you've almost fallen asleep after hours of rough housing with the kids?

How do you make sure your ideas don't slip into oblivion?

The hubby handed me one of his portable voice recorders the other week. He's an amateur songwriter, so he uses them to record snippets of the songs he writes. But I don't know ... it just didn't work for me.

I guess I'm more visual than I thought. I like seeing the words appear on screen as I type them out. I just adore the physicality of words, whether typed or written. When I'm in front of a keyboard and screen or have a pen and paper in front of me, words just seem to flow ... characters become more real ... scenes come alive ... well, for me at least ;-)
 
How do you write?

The Japayuki Chronicles on WattPad!

Hi everyone!

I decided to migrate the stories to Wattpad, since it's a better application for novel-writing than blogspot ;-) So if you have time, I'd really appreciate if you could check it out. This is my page and you can check out Ana and Ken's story here.

Thanks again for the support! I'll be keeping this blog for other things so hope to hear from you soon ;-)

xoxo

On writing...

On any given day, I have about a dozen storylines running through my head. Sometimes overhearing fragments of a conversation on the MRT, or a passing glance of a couple lounging on a terrace as I speed by on the road, is all it would take for my imagination to start creating possible scenarios and for words to start flowing into my head. I wish I had the time and energy to put them all down on paper (or rather, on my laptop). But time is a precious commodity these days. With a demanding 3 year old and an equally demanding 7 month old, an almost-full-time stint at a cultural conservation agency, plus a couple of private consultative projects, more often than not, I find myself strapped for time.

But that doesn't stop me from dreaming.

Sometimes I find myself working snippets of the stories in my head into the stories I write. And sometimes they interest me enough to warrant a story of their own. But each fragment is treasured and each is an example of a fragment of humanity that made me laugh or cry or made me go 'Awwww!' with kilig. And I think is is one really important aspect--- to believe that these characters can be someone like us, that fairy tales can come true, and that true love exists...maybe not just in the exact forms and ways we expect them to. 

Whenever I feel myself starting to go cynical and depressed that I never really finish anything (it happens when you work for the government), I try to take a moment and remember why I write. Partly I think its because I'm essentially a dreamer, but basically I cannot ever imagine not writing.

I like to reread one of the first articles I ever wrote, which was published in the Philippine Daily Inquirer's Youngblood in 1998 and republished in a compilation (Youngblood 2.0) in 2000. It was an idealistic piece of a fresh graduate working at her first job and hung up on the TV series, Ally McBeal. It constantly reminds me that rainbows come after the rain and that dreaming never really costs a thing. It also reminds me, that despite my often contrarily illogical ramblings, I can relate to people, and they often get what I want to say.

So here's to everyone who ceaselessly pounds their keyboards to give us the flights of fancy we crave. Never stop dreaming! ;-)

Leave it up to Fate: Tapos naaaaa!

Wow, talk about birthing pains! This is one baby that took 5 years to complete ;-) Thank you to everyone who read and commented. And if you felt even an iota of the kilig I felt when I was writing this, then super duper thanks!

If you liked this, I hope you share the love and tell your friends who might be interested about this blog. I will also be publishing this via smashwords soon, so you'll be able to download the whole book ;-)

Honto ni arigatou gozaimasu minna!

Coming up next...Kaye and Tessa's story...Abangan!





xoxox

Leave it up to Fate: Chapter 30 (ENDING!)

Chapter 30

I let myself into Ken’s apartment with the special card key he had given me. I put the sacks of food I had bought on the kitchen counter. He wouldn’t be home for at least a couple of hours and I wanted to surprise him with dinner. I systematically began preparing the ingredients for chicken adobo, rice, and salad.

I was just setting the table when heard the doorbell and frowned. It was still much too early. Who could that be?

I peered through the security screen and froze. Holy kangkong! Even though the video was dark and blurry, I could still recognize the undeniably beautiful Erina Sakamoto standing just outside the door.

Gaaah! What is she doing here? I am so not ready for this!

I was tempted to simply ignore her, but seeing that she wasn’t about to disappear in a puff of smoke, I decided to invite her in. I’d rather not have this meeting serve as tabloid fodder.

Up close, Erina Sakamoto was even lovelier than she was on TV. She looked surprised to see me, but she let me usher her in. “Gomenasai, but Ken isn’t here yet.” I told her when we seated ourselves on the sofa.

She actually looked relieved. “Ah, sou? Perhaps it is better this way.” She rooted around in her bag and produced a blue Tiffany box. “Would you…would you mind returning this to Ken? I wouldn’t feel comfortable keeping it.” I took the box and looked questioningly at her. She smiled. “It was supposed to be an engagement ring.”

I groaned. “Ms. Sakamoto…”

“Erina, please.”

“I’m… I’m really sorry for having caused you and Ken to break up. It was a mistake…”

“Eeee? You what?” She looked confused.

“I… uh… didn’t I?”

“You didn’t cause our breakup; we’d broken up before he met you—at least I think so. Actually, I broke up with him long before we left LA.”

She … what? I stared mutely at her. I didn’t cause their breakup? She broke up with him? Was it true then? Could Ken still be carrying a torch for her?

“I don’t know exactly what Ken has told you about us,” She began. “We’d been friends for years, and we sort of conveniently drifted into a relationship. I was in love with him for so long.” She gave a brittle laugh. “But he was never in love with me. My husband…”

“Your husband?!”

“Oh yes, didn’t Ken tell you? That’s why I broke up with him. I finally fell in love with someone.” She smiled as she told me how she had met her husband in LA while she and Ken were filming the sequel to Ima Anata Ni. “I’m sure that Ken was secretly relieved I’d broken it off. It had come to the point where we ought to either break it up or get married.”

“But Ken wanted to marry you…” I protested.

She sighed. “Only because it was next logical step. As you know, he likes things serious and rational. He’s not the spontaneous type. Why, when we talked about getting engaged, he even showed me Tiffany’s ring catalog!”

I stared at her. Logical? Not spontaneous? I looked down at the beautiful ring that Yoshi told me Ken had deliberated over for hours. It was like she was talking about a totally different person!

Erina’s smile widened as she looked at me. “I see you don’t share my opinion of him. I’m happy he’s finally found someone to love. He deserves it after all this time.” At my confused look, she proceeded to tell me about Ken’s parents. Apparently, his dad had drunk himself to death after his wife passed away, forgetting all about Ken and his sister Yuki. Ken had had to work in order to support himself and Yuki. Afterwards, Ken swore that he’d never fall in love like his dad. “Although I tried, I’ve never been able to break through the barriers he erected.” She reached out and clasped my hand. “I’m really happy to see that you have.”

She departed shortly after that, leaving me with a lot to consider.

If I wasn’t the reason they had broke up, then why had Ken roped me into all of this in the first place? Was it simply because of his career? Then why was he so adamant we see this through even though it was apparent that there was no shortage of lovely and available women eager to fling themselves at him?

Things just didn’t make sense. Ken had ignored me for 2 weeks then suddenly he was overeager to tie the knot. Was it really because he had seen me and Dan that night? Had he really been jealous? Did I really matter that much to him?

I lost track of how long I sat on the sofa, pondering everything, when I suddenly heard the beep of the lock disengaging. The door opened and Ken stepped in.

His whole face lit up when he saw me. He put down his suitcase and sniffed appreciatively. “Ana? Did you cook dinner for me?” When he saw how still I was, he approached warily. “Ana, what’s wrong?”

“Erina was just here. She left this for you.” I handed him the box. He tossed it aside and asked again what the problem was.

“Ken, you guys didn’t break up because of what happened at the airport.”

He winced slightly. “So you’ve found me out.” He sat down beside me. “When we had lunch, you assumed that you were the reason we broke up. I let you think so and I’m sorry. It’s just that, if you hadn’t felt so guilty, you would never have agreed to the plan. And that would have ruined everything.”

I bowed my head. “Ken, why do you want to get married?”

Ken stood up abruptly. “I thought we’d finished discussing all the reasons why.”

“But are those enough for marriage?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “I’ve known some marriages to have been built on much less. But that depends on you. Is that that something you’d be content with?”

Suddenly it all became crystal-clear. I was in love with Ken. And I wanted the whole shebang that went with being in love. I wanted quiet walks and cuddles, jokes that made sense to only the two of us. I wanted hugs when things were going bad and someone to share the glory with when things went well. I wanted someone to fight with and make up with. I wanted all that with Ken.

Slowly, I raised vulnerable eyes to his. “Would you be content?”

“No I wouldn’t.” At my surprised look, he went on. “Ana, I want a wife who loves me as much as I do her.”

My heart was doing crazy palpitations in my chest. “And… and when you … do you think I could be all that?”

“Baka! Only you could ask such a question.” He said exasperatedly. He groaned. “Ana, I’ve been in love with you for months!”

“How was I supposed to know?! You didn’t say anything!”

He rolled his eyes. “Cho baka! Only an idiot wouldn’t have known!”

“Are you calling me an idiot?”

“Yes!”

“If you think I’m going to allow you to call me an idiot when we’re married, you’d better think again!”

Ken smiled. “Then you’re going to marry me?”

“Of course I am!” I exclaimed, smiling. “I love you Ken. And besides, I’m not an idiot.”

I threw myself into his waiting arms and suddenly we were kissing and laughing and tearing our clothes off. But when Ken finally laid me down on his bed, I drew back. “Ne, I just thought … shouldn’t we wait until after we’re married?”

Ken rolled his eyes and pulled me back against him. “Baka. Now who’s being an idiot?”

+++

“When did you know?” It was much, much later when Ken and I cuddled on the bed, happy and satisfied, that I remembered to ask.

“That I loved you? Not right away, but I was definitely intrigued from the first.”

“But why me?”

He smiled. “Fishing for compliments? Ana, you’re the only woman who’s ever stood up to me.”

I hit him with a pillow. “You deserved it. You can be so arrogant sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” He asked and I hit him again. “Ana, I love not only your intelligence and independent spirit, but also your vulnerability and sweetness. I love your crankiness, your weird sense of humor, your wit, and your kindness. You make me want to tear my hair out and curse, but you definitely make me happy. How could I not love you? When you told your parents that we were engaged, I would have moved heaven and earth to make it true.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Baka. You weren’t ready to listen. I told your dad though.”

“You whaaat?!”

Ken told me that he had come clean with my father. He admitted to Daddy that we weren’t really engaged, but that he believed I loved him and that he could make me happy. To my surprise, my dad had gone along with it.

And so as I fell asleep that night, guilt-free and happily ensconced in the arms of the man I loved, I sent a silent prayer to the heavens not only for granting my wish, but also for giving me the courage to claim it for myself. After all, although we may not always get what we wish for, it’s up to us how to use the cards we’ve been dealt.

 And as I stared into Ken’s sleeping profile, a wicked smile came over my lips as my hands innocently found their way down his torso, I definitely know how I’m going to use mine.

Leave it up to Fate: Chapter 29

Chapter 29

“I was thinking of importing cherry blossom branches for the church…”

“It’s not really the season for sakura, Mama.” I reasoned over the phone. As usual, she had called to discuss wedding arrangements. For the past 2 weeks, I had approved color swatches, looked over menu and song lists, and been measured at least once.

“Hm, you’re right.” My mom mused. “I was thinking of using them to decorate the pews so we’d have something like a canopy as you walk down the aisle. You know, like what Juday had for her wedding.”

I rolled my eyes, I had no idea what Juday did for her wedding.

“Can you see if you can get some at Tokyu Hands?” She asked. “They’ve lovely artificial ones there.”

“Fine, Mama. I’ll email you as soon as I’ve gone.” With my mom, it was easier to just keep on agreeing.

“So how is Ken doing?”

“He’s busy finishing up several filming commitments to clear his schedule.” I told her. Ken was in Nara shooting a period film. I hadn’t seen much of him since our engagement party, but he called every day. He was due back today and I hoped to have a little talk with him later this weekend.

She sighed. “I’m really am happy that you’re getting married Ana. Your Dad and I have always worried about you. We’re really glad that you now have Ken to take care of you.”

I bit back the retort that I was able to take care of myself and fidgeted guiltily. It was a good thing Mama couldn’t see me. “I thought that Dad was still against everything.” I commented. Daddy hadn’t said five words to me since I had dropped the bombshell on them.

“Oh he was, up until your engagement party in fact. But Ken paid him a visit after and they had nice talk and sorted it all out.”

“Ken did what?” I choked.

“Oh, I forgot, he did say not to tell you. You worry overmuch about the littlest things dear. Now forget I said anything and instead, why don’t you think about the centerpiece choices I sent you. I still like the ikebana one with mirrors…”

I let my mind wander as Mom continued to prattle on. I couldn’t imagine Ken with my dad without the latter erupting into violence or at least a show of hysterics. And now Daddy was actually resigned to our marriage? What the hell had Ken told my father?!

After Mom had rung off a few minutes later, I strayed over to the kitchen to see what Kaye was doing. In a fit of domesticity, she was actually baking cookies.

“Hoy Ana, you’ve been staring into space for at least 10 minutes now. What’s up?” Kaye asked after a while. 

“Nothing’s up.”

Kaye raised an eyebrow. “Spit it out. You know you’ll tell me eventually anyway.”

I don’t know why I suddenly felt like venting; but suddenly, the words gushed forth like a hemorrhage. I told Kaye everything—from what the Ai and Takashi had told me 2 weeks ago, to what my mom had said about Ken and my dad.

“So let me know if I got this right,” Kaye said when I finished my recital. “You’re feeling guilty because you’re deceiving your parents and marrying a guy who you don’t think loves you because he’s still hooked on a girl you inadvertently made him break up with. You’re also scared that you’re ruining your life and you’re terrified to death of admitting your feelings. Have I got everything?”

“In a nutshell.” I confirmed. “Oh Kaye, what should I do?”

“How should I know?” Kaye went back to decorating her cookies. “But I do know if I were you I’d go and see Ken and hash this all out before we got married.” She looked directly at me. “The sooner, the better. Then you’ll know what to do.” When she saw my hesitation, she said more gently, “This isn’t a shotgun wedding Ana. No one’s forcing you to do anything. But you’re an adult and you’ve evaded the issues long enough. You owe it to yourself to find out the truth.” Kaye sighed. “Ana, you asked for someone to love. Fate has handed you that someone. You ask for water and God gives you rain—do you ask for a glass too? ”

I smiled. “Kaye, when did you become so wise?”

She shrugged and turned back to her cookies. “I don’t know; I was probably born this way.”

I was laughing as I closed the front door.




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