And you thought I was making empty promises. True, my blogging schedule is still erratic at best; but, once I get these weddings (no I am not a wedding planner) and problems (my own, my family’s, my friends’, you name it) out of the way, I’ll be able to blog more often again, if not daily. I still write for a number of publications and it is good that I am (still) able to churn out stuff (and knowing my brain hasn’t burnt out yet).
I took note of the word publication and I focus on the “public” part of publication. Your name (and sometimes, face) is splashed on every page of every issue of magazine, newsletter, newspaper, etc. that is in circulation. I am not even talking about being famous here, I am talking about being conscious of what you write and say in these communication mediums. This is because, as distinguished from speaking, people will always have a reference material to either quote you or use against you.
When I write something, I know that aside from writing with correct grammar, I should also check my facts. When you write something that’s chock full of errors, you not only lose credibility and respect, you also open up yourself for libel and other charges. I once had a funny and unfortunate incident that involved the publisher putting my picture and erroneously labeling it with an incorrect author for an article I wrote. It was my article and someone else got the credit! Someone with my face (or at least picture)!
I recounted this to a veteran writer once and he just laughed and said that he had never heard of that happening in his entire career. Was I lucky?
I never took up creative writing, nor did I graduate with a course in mass communications or anything remotely related to journalism. I remember that when I was in grade school, I was not even interested in joining the school journalism club. Most of those who joined were the class geeks (hehe sorry guys and gals) because they wanted to get extra grades and they were exempted from the regular English classes.
However, in high school, I met a friend who was fond of writing his own stories and that sort of got me hooked on writing. We’d use plain old yellow paper to write our own stories and plots, but we never really finished any one of them. We often wrote suspense (unfinished) novels, thrillers, mysteries, supernatural stories. I remember that I once wrote a supernatural piece, and another classmate got a hold of it. She (yes it was a she, and I don’t mean this in a discriminatory way) was aghast.
In our little, conservative, strictly Christian school, when you write something supernatural you are branded as some sort of anti-Christ. Our school even banned the playing of this game. Anyone who was caught with the game or writing stuff like that were held for questioning (actually counseling).
I think my writing career hit a turning point in my last year in high school as well as during my last year in college. In the high school part, I wrote a short (juvenile) poem entitled “Deep Blue Sea”, and a close friend of mine then praised it to high heavens. I have since lost a copy of that. Shame on me!
I was happy that time, but I guess my writing took a backseat and it remained dormant until I met my Humanities Professor, Prof Hilario Francia during my last months in college. During the tail end of the course, he handpicked 5 students (moi included) to contribute an article to the Manila Times. I found out that of the 5, only a classmate and I actually submitted an article. Mine got picked. It was a movie review on the first Spiderman movie.
This first publicly published article hangs on a wall in my room. It is framed and the newsprint is getting yellow with age, but I don’t mind. I recall that Mr. Francia would constantly badger me and ask me if my work was already published. He’d tell me that he was also calling the other 4 students and following them up. When he came to know that mine was published he was elated and he asked me to join some sort of a club. He gave a number. I lost it.
@#$#@$. I guess this is the part where I throw a fit, a chair, a tantrum and spew out expletives out into the air.
If anyone knows about that club, if it is still in existence, I would be very much interested to know more about it. If any of my high school classmates still hold a copy of “Deep Blue Sea”, please give me one also.
A million light years after my high school and college life, I sit in front of my computer, writing (aimlessly), yet even in this piece of nonsense, I enjoy the tapping sounds of my keyboard, excited to write down the words that flash through my mind faster than I can type it out. (Still feeling the @#$ pain and regret from losing those valuable items!)
