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.