TRAVELS (and more) WITH CECILIA BRAINARD: Filipino literature

Showing posts with label Filipino literature. Show all posts

Thursday, October 9, 2025

How Manong Victor Brought Home His Baket by Jhoanna Cruz - Love Series #11

From Cecilia Brainard: I am proud to share JHOANNA CRUZ's short story, HOW MANONG VICTOR BROUGHT HOME HIS BAKET. This is part of my Love Stories Series featured in my blog. This was first published in a literary journal and then a short story collection. All articles and photos are copyrighted by the individual authors. All rights reserved. This is featured in my blog with permission from the author.

***

Jhoanna Lynn B. Cruz is Full Professor of literature and creative writing at the University of the Philippines Mindanao, where she currently serves as dean of the College of Humanities and Social Sciences. She holds a creative practice PhD from RMIT University, Australia. Cruz wrote the first sole-author collection of lesbian stories published in the Philippines, Women Loving (2010), which is currently available as an eBook entitled Women on Fire. Her book, Abi Nako. Or So I Thought (2020) published by the UP Press, is the first lesbian memoir in the Philippines. Among the anthologies she has edited is the Tingle Anthology of Pinay Lesbian Writing (Anvil, 2021) and More Mindanawon than We Admit (Vibal, 2024). Her latest book, Lugar Lang. Dispatch from Davao (Ateneo Press, 2024) is a collection of essays from her now-defunct opinion column in Mindanao Times. Cruz holds the distinction of UP Artist.

How Manong Victor Brought Home His Baket

after Manuel Arguilla

Jhoanna Cruz

I HAD BEEN WAITING FOR THEM since four o’clock in the afternoon. I had spent my fifty centavos on a bottle of Pop Cola and pan de coco. I was getting restless. My brother Victor had promised to be here before nightfall. He knew how dangerous it could get in these mountains, especially since the Chico River dispute. The Kalinga were fighting furiously for their lives and the New People’s Army in the Cordillera was involved actively in the struggle. And I did not want Inang to be alone too long, in her condition.

“Rio! Are you alone?” Manong Victor called out as he got off the jeep.

“Wen, manong. We have to hurry.”

“I’m sorry. We had to pass through several military checkpoints. The goddamn soldiers searched our bags in each one. ‘Routine,’ they said, as they frisked me and eyed Olivia.”

She got off the jeepney then, took off her jacket, and dusted it. I smiled as the dust motes flew all over her. She laughed at the futility of her attempts. They had had to drive on dirt roads most of the way and she herself was covered with dust, her long hair almost gray.

“Free powder,” she said, as she wiped her face with Kleenex. “You must be Rio.” She wiped her right hand on her denim shorts and extended it to me.

I shook her hand and marvelled at how soft it was, a hand that had probably never known the earth.

“Oh, what the heck!” She kissed me on the cheek. “I probably smell like hell.”

On the contrary, I wanted to tell her. Despite having travelled twelve hours from Manila to Abra, she smelled faintly of freshly picked dayap. I was suddenly ashamed of having stayed under the sun so long, especially because, today, my regla came for the first time. The Newtex felt wet and sticky. I hated it that I was supposed to be “dalaga na” just because of this blood. What’s the big deal anyway? Since Tatang died in combat two years ago, I have had to take on adult responsibilities. Inang decided to continue where Tatang had left off and I couldn’t stop her. It would have been wrong to stop her just because I needed her. I didn’t understand her then, but I wanted to help her. Taking care of myself and our house seemed the only way I could do that. Her absence “grew me up” faster than my menses could. I had to teach myself not to be afraid for Inang and for myself. I loved her for her courage, but I had to prepare myself for the day that she too would not come home.

“Olivia,” my brother said. “Are you ready to go on?”

“Do I have a choice?” she asked, tying her hair into a ponytail.

“No, of course not!”

They laughed at what seemed to be a private joke. Manang Olivia’s eyes narrowed into mere slits when she laughed. I myself did not find it funny that this charming woman, whose skin was smooth and fair, would still have to hike two hours to get to Barrio Tiempo. I wanted to carry her duffel bag for her, but I did not want to disobey Inang. I was not even sure if she would let me take her bag. It had a funny name: Le Sport Sac. I was glad she wore Adidas shoes, though they were obviously new. And white.

We started walking. The sun was setting over the mountains and gave an orange hue to everything it touched. In the distance, I could see the terraces and the palay stalks heavy with grain turn bronze. Soon, they would be ready for harvest. Watching the sky slowly blush, I thought, Agindaraen, for it seemed tinged with blood.

“It’s beautiful,” Manang Olivia said softly, stopping to take a picture with her Kodak Instamatic.

“Yes,” my brother said. “But you must not take pictures when we get to the village.”

“Not even of my new family?” she asked.

“I told you already. We must be careful. This is the heartland, Olivia.”

She silently packed her camera into her bag. “Rio, have we far to go?”

“Asiddegen, manang,” I replied because I could already hear the great river gushing.

My brother laughed and said, “Never ask someone from the mountains about distance. You never know what they really mean, when they say it’s near!”

When we reached the riverbank, I stopped to light the small torch I had brought. Manong Victor noticed that no banca was waiting for us. “Why didn’t you borrow Manong Teban’s boat?” he demanded. “Now, we would have to cross the hanging bridge! In the darkness, Rio.”

“Inang’s instructions, manong.”

“Ay, apo. I’m sorry, Olivia. Inang has her moments of brilliance. Will you manage?” Manong Victor asked his wife.

Manang Olivia looked up at the rope bridge and started singing, “The water is wide, I cannot cross over …”

Manong Victor laughed and said, “I’ll hold your hand.” He sang along with her as we approached the bridge. “Build me a boat that can carry two and both will row …”

It took Manang Olivia some time to get across the bridge. She gripped the rails so tightly; I was worried she would scrape her palms. I could see her knees trembling as the bridge swayed with our weight. I gave the torch to Manong Victor because I was not used to standing on this bridge too long. It made me dizzy just thinking about how high it was. I wanted to tell Manang Olivia she was, in fact, lucky that it was too dark to see all the way down. I wondered if anyone was watching us and snickering at the strange sight my brother and his wife made on that bridge, belting out Peter, Paul, and Mary.

When they finally got across, Manang Olivia asked if we could rest for a while so she could catch her breath. My brother assured her that ten minutes more and we would be home.

“Then I really need to rest now,” she said, sitting on her bag.

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine,” my brother said, squatting in front of her.

“Your mother hates me.”

“No, she doesn’t. You’ve already left your family, Olivia. For me. For the movement. What else can Inang expect from you?”

“I don’t know, short of joining Balweg’s army.”

“Just remember, when she says, ‘Kumusta,’ say …”

“Marcos-US, diktador, tuta!” she shouted, laughing nervously.

I hushed them and smiled, recalling Manong Victor’s letters about their rallies in Manila and how he fell in love with a colegiala. A colegiala who marched with them and braved the heat, shouting, “Makibaka! Huwag matakot!” Though he did not understand how she could give up her comforts altogether, he was filled with hope when they decided to marry. Yet Inang could not be convinced it was the right thing to do.

When we arrived, I went straight to Inang’s bed. She had been wounded in an encounter in Kalinga. The room was lit with a kerosene lamp made from a small bottle of Lily’s Peanut Butter.

“Did you meet anyone along the way?” she asked.

“No, Inang. I was careful not to make our torch too bright.”

“Did she complain much?”

“No, Inang. But she is afraid of you.” I hoped her heart would soften.

She smirked. “How can she know anything about fear? Come, help me up.”

Just then, my brother and his wife came in.

Inang told me to go down and prepare dinner. As I passed Manang Olivia, I squeezed her hand, which was as soft as the belly of a fish, and whispered, “Everything will be fine.” I breathed deeply of her citrus scent.

I cooked the rice and the dinengdeng. I wondered whether Manang Olivia had ever eaten saluyot and rabong. Though tasty, the dish looked like a swamp. Inang did not want to butcher a goat to make papaitan for my brother’s return after four years. She insisted we serve what we usually ate, that there was nothing to celebrate. There has been nothing to celebrate in our house after Tatang’s death. I supposed no love was lost anyway. I did not think Manang Olivia would eat goat or find bile appetizing.

I strained to hear what they were talking about upstairs. I wished Inang had let Manong Victor and Manang Olivia rest before the “interrogation”, but I knew she would not join them for dinner otherwise.

Inang spoke in Ilocano, using some words I did not understand. Manong Victor answered her in Tagalog, which probably angered her more, for she raised her voice: “Anya ti panakababainam?” Why couldn’t Inang see my brother was not ashamed of speaking our language? He was only trying to help his wife understand what was going on. I was worried for Inang. Her outbursts could make the bleeding start again. She was getting too old for the war, but the enemies kept changing faces.

Manong Victor accepted everything Inang had to say. I could feel Inang’s pain as I heard fragments of her tirade: nabaknang, burgis, sabali isuna.

Manong Victor had only this to say: “Wen, Inang. She is different. And she is my wife.”

“Do you still know what your Tatang died for?” she said, with finality.

I could hear Manang Olivia sobbing. I silently climbed the stairs, as if not to disturb the dead. I saw her take Inang’s right hand and press it to her forehead. I imagined how difficult this must be for her.

On their last day in Abra, Inang let me serve caldereta. She died soon after Manong Victor and Manang Olivia returned to Manila. I was sorry she did not live to see the triumph of the people over the Chico River Dam Project, though it cost many lives, including Lakay Macli-ing’s.

Many years later, I returned to Abra to continue the struggle of my family and my people. Foreign mining companies threatened to displace the Tingguian community of Kili, a village farther up the mountains. I would have wanted Inang to see me now. And despite her obduracy, I would have wanted her to meet Karina. My wife.

~End~

Thursday, August 7, 2025

The Virgin's Last Night by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard - Love Stories Series #3

Cecilia Manguerra Brainard, photo by Doreen Stone

From Cecilia Brainard: I am sharing my story, THE VIRGIN'S LAST NIGHT, as part of my Love Stories Series featured in this blog. Earlier stories posted include Nikki Alfar's THE MECHANISM OF MOVING FORWARD and Geronimo Tagatac's A SIMPLE GRACE.

My story, THE VIRGIN'S LAST NIGHT, was inspired by an unmarried aunt whose beau from her youth came around late in their lives, when he was a widower, and she still unmarried. She had spent most of her life taking care of her younger unmarried sister. In Cebu, they were referred to as the Old Maids living on Mango Avenue. My aunt sent the man away, ridiculing him (her nieces and nephews assumed) -- Are you out of your mind? At our age?

One day when I was already writing stories, I remembered my aunt and her old beau, and I wrote the “The Virgin’s Last Night.” The story flowed, with few revisions.

This story first appeared in Going Home to a Landscape: Writings by Filipinas (Calyx Books); it also appeared in Growing Up Filipino II: More Stories for Young Adults (PALH & UST PH. It is part of my short story collection, Vigan and Other Stories (Anvil), and my Selected Short Stories (PALH and UST PH).

***

BIO: Cecilia Manguerra Brainard is the author and editor of over 22 books. She has written three novels: When the Rainbow Goddess Wept, Magdalena, and The Newspaper Widow. Her recent books include her Selected Short Stories and Growing Up Filipino 3: New Stories for Young Adults. Two books she edited were released in 2025: How I Became a Writer: Essays by Filipino and Filipino American Writers, and Step Into Our Kitchens: Theresian Recipes and Tales.

She has forthcoming translations in Greek, Japanese, Portuguese, Macedonian, Arabic, Serbian, Slovenian and Azerbaijan, in addition to earlier translations of her work in Turkish and Finnish.

She received an Outstanding Individual Award from Cebu, a California Arts Council Fellowship, a Brody Arts Fund, several travel grants from the US Embassy, National Book Award, Cirilo Bautista Prize, travel grant from the National Book Development Board, and others.

Cecilia taught at UCLA, USC, California State Summer School for the Arts, and the Writers’ Program at UCLA Extension. She served as Executive Board member and Officer of PEN, PAAWWW (Pacific Asian American Women Writers West), Arts & Letters at the Cal State University LA, PAWWA (Philippine American Woman Writers and Artists), among others.

She also runs a small press, PALH or Philippine American Literary House (palhbooks.com). Her official website is https://ceciliabrainard.com.

THE VIRGIN’S LAST NIGHT

FOUR MONTHS AFTER PETRA SANTIAGO DIED, and the night before her own death, Meding Santiago got out of bed, reached for her rosary by the side table and started reciting the Creed. It was almost midnight, and she was saying the rosary that Thursday for the second time. Since Petra died, she slept poorly, her mind fixed on the image of her younger sister on the hospital bed, waving her bony fingers in front of her face before she finally stopped breathing. Sometimes she would forget that Petra was gone, and she would pour another cup of hot chocolate or turn to say something to no one, and she would be surprised at the depth of her grief.

She was on her knees, with her eyes closed, when she heard a soft knock on the door. She rose and walked to the door. She opened it, expecting one of the servants, and was surprised at the figure of an old man. It took Meding a second before she caught her breath and said, “Mateo, what are you doing here? You’re dead.”

“Here to see you, Meding. It’s been a long time,” replied Mateo, standing first on one foot, then shifting his weight to the other, a man embarrassed.

“Well,” Meding said, clutching her nightdress at the collar, uncertain about what to do, what to say, uncertain about her sanity at the moment.

“You’re not crazy,” Mateo went on. “I’m dead. I know, it’s strange, but that’s how it is sometimes. I have to get back before sunrise.”

“Oh,” Meding said, accepting this explanation with some kind of relief. Ever since her sister’s death, life had taken on the quality of a dream, and Mateo’s presence was just another strange event. She squinted at the figure by the doorway. “You’ve gotten old, Mateo,” she said, “and paunchy too.”

“You’re just as beautiful.” Mateo hung his head the way he used to as a young man, many years ago.

Meding laughed and walked over to the armoire mirror to study her image. “Mateo, you and I know I’m no spring chicken.

Cecilia Manguerra Brainard

Friday, August 1, 2025

A Simple Grace by Geronimo Tagatac - Love Stories Series #2

From Cecilia Brainard: I am proud to share GERONIMO TAGATAC'S short story, A SIMPLE GRACE. This is part of my Love Stories Series featured in my blog. This is featured in my blog with permission from the author.

***

GERONIMO TAGATAC'S father was from Ilocos Norte. His mother was a Russian Jew. Geronimo has been a Special Forces soldier, a legislative consultant, a dishwasher, cook, folksinger, computer system planner, a modern and jazz dancer and a roofer. His short fiction has appeared in Writers Forum, The Northwest Review, Alternatives Magazine, Orion Magazine, The Clackamas Literary Review and The Chautauqua Literary Review. He’s received fellowships from Oregon Literary Arts and Fishtrap. “Summer of the Aswang,” received the 2017 Timberline Award for short fiction. Geronimo's short story, "Hammer Lounge" is part of Growing Up Filipino II: More Stories for Young Adults, collected and edited by Cecilia Brainard. His first book of short fiction, The Weight of the Sun, was a 2007 Oregon Literary Arts finalist.

***

A SIMPLE GRACE

CATHERINE, C.K. HER FRIENDS CALLED HER, would later tell him that the way he moved when he made his way between the row of lecture hall seats and the way he sat himself down without the help of his arms is what drew her interest. The very simplicity of his gracefulness touched something in her.

C.K. saw him the following Friday evening, in the Interlude Bar. She’d gone there with Charles, a grad student who was ten years older than her. He was chummy with the younger faculty members who frequented the place. Marco was chatting with the woman bartender and, at one point he said something to her that made her laugh. C.K. was sure he knew that she was watching him by the way he sat, half turned toward her on his bar stool as though he could hear her through the clutter of conversation punctuated by the occasional raised voice or wave of laughter. She was almost sure that he would hear her if she spoke to him across the space between them.

Marco felt her swift glances, returning them with his own in which he took in her thick straight brown hair cut square several inches below her shoulders. He guessed she was not much more than five-feet-two inches tall. He noticed her light-colored eyes behind her wire-rimmed glasses, the black turtleneck sweater, and wide-legged pants of a fabric that softened the shape of her legs. He watched her leave with her companion but noticed she didn’t hold his hand or lean into him in that way lovers do, and that rubbed away some of his envy.

Cecilia Manguerra Brainard

Monday, July 28, 2025

Old Photographs Filipino Writers with Cecilia Brainard

I'm sorting out old photographs and I'll share some that include notable Filipino literary figures. I will continue to add photos on this post, so check back:

Photo taken Oct. 1995 at the Cebu launch of Cecilia Brainard's ACAPULCO AT SUNSET AND OTHER STORIES, l-r: Karina Bolasco (Anvil's publishing director), Cecilia Manguerra Brainard, Mila Santillan, Araceli Lorayes

Photo taken Oct. 1995 at the Manila launch of ACAPULCO AT SUNSET AND OTHER STORIES, l-r: Cecilia Manguerra Brainard, Karina Bolasco (Anvil's publishing director), Mariel Francisco, Marj Evasco

This photo was taken at the 1995 launch of my second story collection, Acapulco at Sunset and Other Stories. This particular event was at the Ayala Museum. I recall that Ben Santos arrived a bit late, and the program had begun. When he walked in, slowly, as he was now ill, everyone paused and there was silence as he made his way to join us. He sat near me and my mother, and we talked.. He said he was losing his eyesight. I tried to console him. That was the last time I saw him alive. A few months late, he passed away.

He was very kind to me. He helped me as an emerging writer; he recommended my first story collection, Woman with Horns and Other Stories, for publication to Mrs. Gloria Rodriguez at New Day. He wrote me, encouraged and advised me. May he rest in peace.

There were several photos taken of us, but I just noticed that in this one we are holding hands. Bless him.

Circa early 1990s photo with Filipino American icon Helen Brown (seated in blue. To her right is Cecilia Brainard, to her left is Lee Colomby.

1998 photo taken at Cebu City Charter Day anniversary celebration. Cecilia is top left. She received an Outstanding Individual Award from the City of Cebu.

2000 photo taken in Paris, at Shakespeare and Company where Cecilia did a reading. To my left is Filipino writer Cris Yabes.

1997 photo taken at Montebello Villa hotel, l-r: Karina Bolasco, Cecilia Brainard, Chinggay Utzurrum, Erma Cuison, Teresita Manguerra

Sunday, November 3, 2024

How I Became a Writer - Ian Rosales Casocot - Filipino FilAm Series #1

Ian Rosales Casocot, Copyright by Ian Rosales Casocot.

From Cecilia Brainard: I am proud to kick off my Guest Blog Series featuring Filipino and FilAm Americans writing on the topic: HOW I BECAME A WRITER. Please stay tuned because I'll be featuring more accomplished writers here. All articles and photos are copyrighted by the individual authors. All rights reserved. Cecilia Brainard and PALH have permission from the authors to use their writings. To start us off, here is IAN ROSALES CASOCOT

***

Ian Rosales Casocot is the author of Don’t Tell Anyone, Bamboo Girls, Heartbreak & Magic, and Beautiful Accidents. He has won the Palanca nine times for his fiction, plays, and children’s poetry. In 2008, his novel Sugar Land was longlisted in the Man Asian Literary Prize. He was Writer-in-Residence for the International Writers Program of the University of Iowa in 2010. He is based in Dumaguete City

***

WHEN MOST WRITERS are asked to explain why they write, they evoke the usual responses: they are heeding the call of the archetypal storyteller, and they are perhaps also trying to approximate the divinity of creation. Thomas Berger once famously said, “Why do writers write? Because it isn’t there”—with such pronouncements, the writer aims to be God-like in the piecing together of a universe peculiar to his literature.
But the Pulitzer Prize-winning James A. Michener may have said it best when he tried to explain why he wrote stories: “I write at eighty-five for the same reasons that impelled me to write at forty-five; I was born with a passionate desire to communicate, to organize experience, to tell tales that dramatize the adventures which readers might have had. I have been that ancient man who sat by the campfire at night and regaled the hunters with imaginative recitations about their prowess. The job of an apple tree is to bear apples. The job of a storyteller is to tell stories, and I have concentrated on that obligation.”
I like that word “obligation” that Michener uses, because the fact of the matter is—and this all of us here may know to be a throbbing truth—nobody really forces anybody to write stories, and in fact one can handily go through life without knowing how it is like to write well, or to read well.
And yet we write. And we back our choices up by constructing a sense of personal aesthetics that would explain why indeed we write, and why we write what we do write.

Cecilia Manguerra Brainard

Tuesday, July 4, 2023

To Leonard Ralph Casper from Bienvenido N. Santos

July 6 is the 100th Birthday anniversary of Leonard Ralph Casper!

Excerpt from WILL YOU HAPPEN, PAST THE DARKNESS, THROUGH THE SILENCE: REMEMBERING LEONARD RALPH CASPER (Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/1953716202 )

Letters from Bienvenido N. Santos --
Dear Len:
I’m grateful to you for your letter, that “reverend” portion which…about time someone like you opened my eyes to the truth: I have been luckier than most…

Did I say anything about the National Artist Award? I do not WANT it, Len. Not from that couple…if offered to me, I will turn it down…You are right, what more do I need?

I’m not going to teach anymore after June 10…you can be sure, I’m going to write my heart out…because it is the only way…I know you will be busy but please, for my own selfish reasons, write to me… I’ll be in the Philippines not later than Nov 1...the priority in my life is my health. I spent two days in the hospital week, the usual emergency treatment for chest pains…fortunately everything turned out well…O, Len, you don’t know how helpful you have been. Thank you, dear friend. As ever, Ben. May 24, 1983.

Cecilia Manguerra Brainard

Saturday, July 1, 2023

Leonard Ralph Casper Centennial Birthday Celebration

The Centennial birthday of LEONARD RALPH CASPER is this July 6. Please read this writeup "REMEMBERING LEONARD RALPH CASPER" based on interviews of his wife, award-winning Filipina novelist Linda Ty-Casper.

The collection of his letters, (which his wife calls his Memoirs) WILL YOU HAPPEN, PAST THE SILENCE, THROUGH THE DARK is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, among others.

tags: Philippine literature, Filipino literature, Pinoyreads, pinoylit, Filipino books

Read also;
Interview of Linda Ty-Casper
Book Review of WILL YOU HAPPEN by Joel Pablo Salud

Cecilia Manguerra Brainard

Saturday, April 29, 2023

Cecilia Brainard's Selected Short Stories Wins 40th National Book Awards in Short Fiction

Read CNN article "Full List: The Winners of the 40th National Book Awards"
I am grateful that my Selected Short Stories was honored with the 40th National Book Award in the category of Best Book of Short Fiction in English.
The book was quietly released in 2021 when Covid was still causing havoc, and like most books released during the time of pandemic, it was ignored. I am therefore happy that the Manila Circle's Critics and the National Book Board Development found merit in the book.
Thanks to my publisher, University of Santo Tomas Publishing house and the UST folks who have included me in their family: Ailil Alvarez, Ned Parfar, Jack Wigley, Jing Hidalgo, Ralph Galan, and many others.
There is more information about my Selected Short Stories in this link:
The book is available from Lazada and Shopee in the Philippines. Amazon and Barnes and Noble also carry the book.

Read also
Rappler "Full List..."

Recent blogs by Cecilia

River Cruise .... Keukenhof Gardens

River Cruise of the Netherlands and Belgium - Bruge or Brugge
River Cruise of the Netherlands and Belgium - Antwerp
River Cruise of the Netherlands and Belgium - Hoorn and Arnhem
River Cruise of the Netherlands and Belgium - Amsterdam Canals

Tags: Philippine books, Filipino books, Filipino short stories, Filipino literature, Cebuano literature, Cebu literature, NBA Awards, Book Awards

Cecilia Manguerra Brainard

Monday, March 27, 2023

40th National Book Awards - Selected Short Stories by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard - Finalist Short Fiction in English -

40th National Book Awards - Finalists

I learned late last night from Ned Parfan Assistant Director of the University of Santo Tomas Publishing House that my SELECTED SHORT STORIES is a finalist in the Short Fiction in English Category of the 40th National Book Development Board of the Philippines.

Please read an article about the 40th National Book Awards:

https://www.cnnphilippines.com/life/culture/literature/2023/3/27/40th-national-book-awards-finalists.html

I am very grateful to the National Book Development Board and the Manila Critics Circle who made the announcement.

This book was released during Covid lockdowns, and it was not launched properly. Like other pandemic-released books, this was sadly ignored.

I am therefore particularly grateful to the NBDB and Manila Critics Circle for including this book among the finalists of the 40th National Book Awards.

This book includes some of my best short stories including the popular: “Woman with Horns”, “Flip Gothic”, “Romeo”, and some recent stories: “The Syrian Doctor in Paris”, and “Melisande in Paris”, and more.
The book cover was created by noted Filipino artist, Felix Mago Miguel. In the Philippines, the book is available from Lazada and Shopee; in the US, check out Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

I am posting the book blurbs by noted writers who have supported the book (and me): Thank you Brian, Bonnie, and Danton!
Powerful, poignant and engrossing, the Selected Short Stories by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard is an important work by a major writer. Written in a poetic style rich in imagery, her observant eye’s subject is both transnational and local, societal and relational in the more personal scale of family, friendship, love. These stories have an oral quality in the best sense of the word, by a master of the form. ~ Brian Ascalon Roley, author of Ambuscade and American Son, and Professor of English, Miami University.

Cecilia Manguerra Brainard’s short stories cover not just the history of the Philippines – Spanish and American colonial rule, the bloody Marcos era, the high price of fighting for political and economic freedom – but also the deeply moving hesitations and complexities of the human heart: the loves and longings and losses that shape and haunt a life, the sensuality and desires that rip apart the fabric of social life, the intricacies of girlhood and female friendship, the confrontation of cultures, the loneliness and courage of Filipino-Americans and others who have left their homelands and the idea of home. Beautifully written, masterfully crafted, these stories are at once heart-breaking, entertaining, and profoundly humane — very difficult to put down, impossible to forget. ~ Reine Arcache Melvin, author of The Betrayed: A Novel

Cecilia Brainard's well-crafted stories deal with fictional Manila and Mexico, Intramuros and Acapulco, Ubec and Cebu. She has the uncanny ability to enter the skin of her characters and give them their singular voices. Her Selected Stories only affirm what we have long known: that she has already vaulted into the front rank of the Philippines' best writers fiction. Brava!" ~ Danton Remoto, author of Riverrun, A Novel
My official website, ceciliabrainard.com has more information about me and my books.

Thanks again to the NBDB, Manila Critics Circle, and the University of Santa Tomas Publishing House.

Tags: #Filipinobooks #Filipinoawards #filipinowriters #nationalbookdevelopmentboard #manilacriticscircle

Cecilia Manguerra Brainard

Saturday, November 5, 2022

Interview of Filipino Novelist Linda Ty-Casper

INTERVIEW OF LINDA TY-CASPER

I did this interview of the Filipino author Linda Ty-Casper several years ago, before her husband the noted literary critic Leonard Casper passed away. I am sharing it as part of the celebration of the release of her new book, WILL YOU HAPPEN, PAST THE SILENCE, THROUGH THE DARK? REMEMBERING LEONARD RALPH CASPER.

In this book, Linda collects letters to and from her late husband into a collection she calls his "Memoir." The book is avaiable from Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, and palhbooks.com~ Cecilia Brainard

Where were you born? When? Number of siblings?
I was born in the Mary Chiles Hospital, Tondo or Santa Cruz, Manila, September 17, 1931. Just we two, but we had many cousins who were like brothers and sisters to us.

What was your family like? (Siblings, Where did you live? What were your parents like? Family activities. Games? Read a lot? Athletic family?
I just have one sister, younger; Freida. We both attended George Elementary in Santa Cruz; Caloocan High, and U.P. She took Public Administration, was Chief of Personnel of the defunct Batasan Pambansa. She’s retired now; visits her son in LA. Other son: a Lt. colonel; youngest son, a doctor. Seven apos. Len and I have none.

After I was born we lived in Santa Cruz. My grandmother’s brother had a house on Felix Huertas which faced on open field that became the Manila Jockey Club. When she moved her family (after her husband died) from San Isidro, that was one of the places where she stayed temporarily before moving to 604 Calle Camarines which intersects with Felix Huertas; an accessoria now called townhouse. She had 4 living daughters, three other children died in San Isidro. She had lived through the Revolution against Spain, the Philippine-American War.

Cecilia Manguerra Brainard

Monday, March 23, 2020

Guest Blogger: Poetry by Elmer Omar Pizo

In this difficult time of Coronavirus, I am happy to feature poetry by Elmer Omar Pizo, a Filipino who now resides in Hawaii. May his poetry contribute to the healing that we need during this uncertain time. Thank you Elmer for being my guest blogger. ~ Cecilia Brainard

POETRY BY GUEST BLOGGER ELMER OMAR PIZO

Rice birds

on the ground

in front of your house---

kicking,

sidestepping,

hopping

every now and then,

matched by their heads

moving

up and down---

looking for scraps

from Grazia

and her month-old puppies' breakfast

of fried rice

and fish pinangat.

Meanwhile,

the overcast sky's clearing up.

From time to time,

as they continue

in their search for bits

of food---

high-pitched,

but sweet, pleasing chirps

escape from their beaks.

In my silence,

they fill my half-deaf ears

with joy so difficult

for me

to explain,

to resist.

II.

“Mother,

in every practical sense,

believe me,

Birds
cannot live
by scraps alone.

They need to pick up

tiny stones

to crush and grind
the seeds
they have packed inside

their gizzards

before they can get

the nourishment
much-needed
by their tiny bodies.”

In Memory of Alejandra Corpus Bascos,

Nee Piso of Villasis, Pangasinan, the Philippines

and Anaheim, California, USA

February 27, 1934 - June 8, 2021

elmer omar bascos pizo

old ewa, ewa beach, hawai’i

BIO of Elmer Omar Pizo

He came from a family of farmers, teachers, soldiers, and religious leaders in the Ilocos, La Union and Pangasinan, the Philippines. He entered the Anglican St. Andrew's Theological Seminary after high school. On his second year in the seminary, he left of Benguet State University where he earned a B.S. Agriculture Science degree in 1981.

He raised eggplants, goats, chickens, and ducks in Pangasinan for a time before he taught Poultry Production at a National High School in a neighboring town. Not long after, he went to Saudi Arabia to work as a Greenhouse Agriculturist. Problems cropped up when their monthly salaries and working conditions were not met. He led the fight for what was due him and his co-workers. He was hauled to the Kalabooz, whipped every Friday for more than three months, then sent back home as an undesirable worker.

A resident of Ewa Beach for the last 22 years, he now works as a handyman after working as an Outreach Worker for the Hawaii Department of Health's Tuberculosis Program and as an Inspector for its Vector Control Program for almost 16 years.

He was a Poetry Fellow at the Vermont Studio Center in February 2006. Prior to this, he was also a Poetry Fellow at the 2000 Silliman National Writers Workshop in the Philippines.

His poems have been published (print and online) in the US and in the Philippines, including Bamboo Ridge Press, Hawaii Review, Maganda Magazine, Tayo Literary Magazine, Crate Literary Magazine, Mutual Publishing, PAWA, Inc., Likhaan Online University of the Philippines-Diliman Creative Writing Center, Our Own Voice Online Literary Journal, and Philippine Free Press.

His debut collection of poems, Leaving Our Shadows Behind Us, was released by the Bamboo Ridge Press, Hawai’i’s most respected literary journal, in April of 2019.

This is also published in Cecilia's blog in her official website: https://ceciliabrainard.com/guest-blogger-poetry-by-elmer-omar-pizo/

pictures courtesy of Elmer Omar Pizo and wikimedia

Tags: Philippines, Filipino, poetry, poet, poems, Hawaii, Filipino American