Magic #19 – Writing for kiddos

I remember, when I was in Grade 2, I used to write stories. One of my friends did the same, and I wanted to compete. Sort of. But my literary pursuit was shortlived.

In high school I ventured into writing kids’ stories again — or at least, I remember writing one story and painted illustrations for it. I submitted a sample to a publisher. After some weeks, the well-known local children’s book publisher replied saying they couldn’t publish my work if I was not of their religion (non-Catholic). After telling her about my rejection, my doting tita in the States was furious and said that that publisher didn’t deserve my — in her unprejudiced opinion — good work.


Now I feel like I want to explore doing children’s literature again. I guess it’s a way of sharing my own experience when I was still a child, for which I’m very grateful: being surrounded with colorful books filled with life. I had a picture book of animals (which introduced me to zebras and giraffes and penguins), a slew of fairy tales free in every can of Nido milk, and several second-hand hardbound collections from, again, my tita in the States. If it weren’t for those books, I wouldn’t have gained a hunger to know more and be amazed by life’s simple details.

I’m sorry it’s taking me three paragraphs to say that, really, I’m excited. Here’s to a future Palanca Award! 😛

The stories will be posted here.


Magic #18 – Hope and cheer after a tragedy

Adept in drawing interiors and bold enough to try making portraits using sign pens, Gidelle is suffering from a debilitating disease. Weak and emaciated, now she can’t walk, is in pain, and getting worse. The 12-year-old may not even reach 20.

Thus it was with awe at her cheerfulness and strong spirit that I let Gidelle use my sign pen to do a sketch of my colleague.  Smiling shyly, she was focused on what she was doing, as if the illustration meant her meaning in the world, as if  it was the only way she could make people other than her family happy. When the portrait was done, she couldn’t suppress a giggle of satisfaction — and I a sigh of shame for myself and my petty concerns.


Here was a girl, whose house was lost to typhoon Pablo (Bopha) last December, whose simple wish of going to school is shattered by her illness, and whose world is limited only to how far her father could bring her — and yet she still managed to be happy. Perhaps she was pressured by circumstance to look happy when we were there to interview her (my organization gave her the wheelchair). But if that were so, then she’s a very good actress as well. I seriously doubt it was just a front.

While by her cheerfulness she gave me hope, I also tried to leave her some advice that (I hope) may make her happier. Because she likes drawing, and has all the time in the world to make artworks, she can try to draw as many illustrations as she can. I suggested that she illustrate stories she enjoys. She could become a published illustrator, I told her. (And in that way, I thought, she’d be remembered long after she passes on: she’d be in people’s heart as the girl who drew and fought discouragement with a smile on her face and crayons in her hands.)

So, if you have art stuff to spare, or coloring books (she likes those), just ask me how to reach her. I plan to send her some as well. Because, really, making some people happy is very easy.