Literary debuts

The 58th edition of the Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature takes place tonight at the Peninsula, as usual, and while the full list of winners has yet to be announced, let me be the first to congratulate my new deputy director at the UP Institute of Creative Writing, Jose Claudio “Butch” Guerrero (yes, another Butch), for winning first prize in the essay in English category. It’s also Butch’s first Palanca, so coming in first has to be a double thrill for him. I mention Butch not only because we work together in the same office (he’s also a faculty member of the UP English department, as well as my student in my graduate fiction workshop), but also because any writer’s first Palanca reminds me of my own, 33 years ago, when I tied for second place in the short story in English, setting me down a road I’m still traveling on. A Palanca (or any other prize, for that matter) is a wonderful thing to have as a young man or woman seeking early validation of his or her writing abilities, and even as an old man still wondering if he has what it takes to excite a difficult and discerning reader. But like I often remind my students, it’s just one way—and maybe not even the best one—of establishing one’s credentials as a writer; the ultimate proof lies in one’s readership. At some point in a writing life, prizes matter much less than publication (and then perhaps, toward the very end of things, they matter again). But there’s something about the first time, the first prize (or better yet, the first first prize) that sends a lifelong rush through the system. I know now, looking back on that first Palanca, that I may have gotten lucky; the judges were in a generous mood and had split first, second, and third prizes down the line. I don’t even have a copy of that story, a fanciful piece set in the pre-colonial past titled “Agcalan Point”; it was never published, and I never thought of including it in any of my books, because it was an engaging tale but not particularly well written. (I was 21, in my thunder-and-lightning phase, and besotted with exotic effects.) But it was enough to give me the lift I needed to pursue writing with a passion. In those days, they held the Palanca Awards ceremony in the old La Tondeña building on Echague, but they didn’t skimp on the trimmings: I remember the swan carved out of glassine ice, and bringing home a hand-lettered certificate along with a check for P2,500, which I plunked down in partial payment for a 1963 Datsun Bluebird, my first car and a pretty piece of junk. I walked on air for months afterward, and couldn’t wait for the next Palanca deadline to leave my stamp on Philippine literature. You can imagine my dismay and despair when, with crushing regularity, I joined the Palancas for the next four years—and lost. It wasn’t until 1980 that I would win again—for a play in Filipino. In the early ‘80s I hit my stride and began writing stories one after the other, and the sheer enjoyment of writing leavened the torment of awaiting the Palanca results (delivered then by telegram, so I scanned the horizon far and wide in late August for the solitary figure of the PT&T or RCPI messenger biking his way up the road). And so my congratulations go to this year’s batch of Palanca winners, especially the first-timers, with a gentle reminder: enjoy the evening and get drunk on the company and the champagne, and then, tomorrow morning, start thinking about your first book and your most difficult reader. (And kudos likewise to my former student Celeste Flores-Coscolluela, who wrote a story for my graduate class that won, last week, second prize in the Free Press Literary Awards. Celeste sings as wondrously as her name suggests, and it’s almost unjust for her to write so well, as well. And congratulations, finally, to another former student and poker buddy, Bridport Prize winner Joel Toledo, on the launch of his first collection of poetry, Chiaroscuro: Poems, published by the UST Press. Joel’s poems are a delight to read—not just in the mind, but aloud, as all poetry once was.) * * * * * Speaking of young or younger writers, I have more exciting news to share. We have yet to finalize most of the details and to secure formal approval for the project, but the National Committee on Literary Arts of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA) is planning what promises to be one of the biggest literary events in this country in recent years. This is the Philippine Writers Festival, tentatively scheduled for mid-February 2009, which will bring around a hundred Filipino writers together in Manila (Quezon City, actually) for three days of conferencing, performances, workshops, and a book fair. As a special focus, the conference portion of the festival will engage and be devoted to writers 40 and below—also around 40 of them, so we’re calling this the “40/40” or “40 under 40” show—featuring the best Filipino writers of this upcoming generation. Poet and NCLA head Ricky de Ungria will serve as festival director, and I’ve been charged with organizing the conference—a task I intend to devolve on a group of under-40s that I’ll be rounding up soon. I’m sure that our young writers can generate enough ideas on their own, and I look forward to working with them on this project, which will be co-hosted by the University of the Philippines and the Ateneo de Manila University, with fellow NCLA member Prof. Lulu Torres-Reyes taking care of the Ateneo end. The NCCA will be flying in selected participants from the regions, ensuring adequate national representation, but it’s the generational aspect of this activity that should be its most valuable legacy—it will serve, in effect, as the formal debut of a new literary elite. (Writers of my age and older need not feel left out; there will be ample opportunity in those three days for us to interact with one another and with our juniors.) I’ll keep you abreast of developments as they emerge, but let this serve as an open invitation for suggestions on how best to make this first Philippine Writers Festival a success. Email me at penmanila@yahoo.com, and visit my blog at www.penmanila.net.