New Story Philippines

Story Philippines has a new issue out for 2008. Here's the table of contents:

"Isabel Jimeno's Price" by Jonathan Simena Siason
""Senia Makes a Baby" by Rebecca Arcega
"Divergene" by Rhea Politado
"Princess of the Sultanate" by Dean Francis Alfar
"Fidela" by Erin K. Entrada
"My Father's Store" by Robby Kwan Laurel

December 8, 2007!

Currently there's a lot in store this weekend, or Saturday to be exact:

• Philippine Speculative Fiction Vol. 3
• Madrigal-Gonzales Best First Book Award (from Pinoy Penman)
• Likhaan: The Journal of Contemporary Philippine Literature (from Pinoy Penman)
• A Different Voice: Fiction by Young Filipino Writers (from The Spy in the Sandwich)
• Philippine Center of International Pen Golden Anniversary
  

Appreciating Editors

They say that behind every successful man is a woman (and behind her is his wife--a joke by Groucho Marx). Some writers have a similar relationship with their editors (and there are several talented female editors you know; Ellen Datlow comes to mind but locally, Nikki Alfar is perhaps even a better editor than her husband, Dean Alfar, although perhaps not as actively marketing herself to the public). While writing is a solitary act, the act of publishing isn't. Publishing is a complex process that involves a lot of people that can, at times, are unrecognized (by the public) for their contributions. It's usually the author who gets the limelight or at times, the publisher. Where's the editor love?

Of course if you've read a lot of books, you'll notice that in the dedication page, more than a few authors thank their editors. The magic of the editors is that they're like your guardian angel (or an efficient intelligence service): readers don't notice them if they're doing something right. Editors are only noticed when there's a screw-up (readers might criticize the editor for the one mistake they didn't catch but don't thank them for the 10 errors they did catch... and you'll never know the latter; that's the secret between author and editor) or when someone is suing the broadsheet for libel. Yet editors fulfill a very important role. Gary Kamiya has an article in Salon entitled Let Us Now Praise the Editors and talks about the hocus pocus an editor does for his writers (and sadly I've been there during high school, rewriting entire news articles that the original author doesn't recognize it as their own).

The exception for me is when it comes to anthologies. More than the big name authors featured in an anthology, I'm interested in who's the editor of a collection. For me, editors are like book reviewers: it's not so much important that they get it right more than that their tastes align with yours. If you're a fan of -insert genre or sub-genre-, you'll most likely prefer an editor who's made a name for himself or herself in that genre/sub-genre. For me, when I grab a hold of a short story collection, the editor's name is the most important thing. I don't care if there are big name authors or no-name authors: what I want are stories that I enjoy. If there's a famous author in the anthology, well and good. If there's a writer I've never read before, then it's a great discovery. But the credit doesn't go to me, it goes to the editor who screens and edits the work of authors and ultimately gives a recommendation to readers.

More than a few editors have made a reputation for themselves. The first one that easily comes to mind are Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (now Gavin Grant and Kelly Link) for The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror. There's also Gardner Dozois or David G. Hartwell for science fiction although I do prefer Rich Horton as of late. McSweeneys was virtually Dave Eggers's baby. And in the Philippines, Dean and Nikki Alfar are behind the now-annual Philippine Speculative Fiction (not to mention the various local fiction publications whose editors hold sway whether a story will be rejected or not).

What many might fail to recognize is how big an impact an editor has. There are, I think, a lot of aspiring writers but I don't often hear people wishing that they'd be the next great editor. It seems that at times, a writer involuntarily gets handed the editor position and then work their way up from there. Yet the reality is, many modern writers wouldn't have been known or recognized if it weren't for the talents of a good editor, either including them in a publication or giving helpful advice to transform the text into an even better reading experience. The late Lester del Rey is easily one of the most recognizable champions of the genre: not only was he a great writer, he was perhaps an even greater editor. (As a writer, it's a tempting mentality to think "if only I had a good editor".)

When Writers Die

Perhaps one of the ironic things in life is that a creator's construct is able to outlive its progenitor. In terms of writing, an author's novel or short story might be remembered far longer and in more detail than the writer himself. Aristotle, Jesus Christ, or even Shakespeare could have been a mere footnote in history if written records did not exist. Instead, they are thrust into the limelight and their fictional adventures intertwines with actual events. But for the most part, these are individuals whose life's work can be measured with a beginning and an end. The biggest tragedy are those people who leave this world with unfinished business, more so the death of a writer. Entire worlds are left hanging, open, and without closure. Writers and historians of future generations might exploit this potential but in the meantime, fans and readers will never experience the writer's vision of the world they created.

The first writer that comes to mind is Franz Kafka. He wasn't a starving artist but he was plagued by sickness and worse--literary rejection. He had few works published in his lifetime but they were met with dismal failure to the point that on his deathbed, he requested that all his work be disposed of, never to see the light of day. Fortunately for us, his friend Max Brod went against his wishes and published the recovered writings of Kafka. While Kafka would be best-known for his story The Metamorphosis, he has attempted to write a few novels and many of them were published even if they remain unfinished (The Castle and The Trial). One wonders what could have happened if Kafka had attained literary acceptance during his lifetime instead of his post-mortem acclaim (and perhaps one of the signs of Kafka's impact in literature is the fact that we have an adjective attributed to him: Kafkaesque).

Genre fiction, on the other hand, has attempted to continue the legacies of deceased authors. Isaac Asimov had his Foundation series and Robert Ludlum had his Jason Bourne series. While the novels in both were self-contained and had a definite end, the publishers deemed it profitable to continue the line and so we have the likes of Gregory Benford, Greg Bear, and David Brin writing one Foundation novel each while Eric Van Lustbader contributed two sequels to the Jason Bourne saga. But for the most part, these sequels are non-essential and purist fans of the original authors could easily ignore the books written by these modern writers and lose out on nothing.

As unlikely as it seems, writers are not immune to tragedy and it seems to strike at the most inappropriate of times. There are cases when writers are struck down before their life's work can be finished. One of the more defiant but ultimately futile gestures I read was of manga creator Shotaro Ishinomori who is responsible for creating the likes of Cyborg 009 and Kamen Rider. While the latter lives on to this very day and is part of Japan's cultural identity (along the same lines as Godzilla, Ultraman, and Pokemon), Cyborg 009 is a special series because Ishinomori faced the same circumstances which led to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle resurrecting his popular fictional character Sherlock Holmes. After devising a brilliant but tragic ending for the series, Ishinomori was forced to resurrect his Cyborg 009 protagonist due to fan clamor. The series ended in 1981 but it is rumored that before he was sent to the ER, Ishinomori defiantly told his doctors that he could not die yet because he still had to write a "true ending" for Cyborg 009. That would have been a great story in itself but Ishinomori did not survive and passed away in 1998.

One of the great science fiction epics is Dune by Frank Herbert. For some SF&F fans however, the original novel was the only book in the series worth reading (and it worked quite well because it stood well on its own). Herbert wrote five of the sequels himself and he was going about the 7th novel when he died of pulmonary embolism in 1986. He left an outline however and this served as the basis for the prequels and sequels his son Brian Herbert and SF author Kevin J. Anderson wrote. If some purist fans disliked the sequels the original Herbert wrote, how much more was their reaction to these estranged novels that were a pale shadow of the deceased author? (I assume they actually sold well considering there's at least 8 Dune books in which Herbert Jr. teams up with Anderson.) I followed Herbert's Dune series faithfully though and I can't help but wonder what would have happened if Frank himself wrote the ever-elusive book seven.

Lately it's fantasy who has taken a big blow with the demise of Robert Jordan. His greatest body of work is neither his Fallon series nor his Conan: The Barbarian novels but rather the 12-novel epic Wheel of Time. Of course when he started writing the series, no one really knew (not even the author himself) that the books would stretch to a dozen titles. Some would argue that the Wheel of Time made it possible for series's like Malazan Book of the Fallen, The Sword of Truth, and A Song of Ice and Fire to be published. While the serial novel is by no means unique to fantasy, Jordan and his ilk ushered in a new sub-genre of adult fantasy that involved interlinked novels that were nearly a thousand pages long (some even surpassing that number) and broke the trilogy formula (although there are a lot of previous writers who did not write in trilogies). (As an aside, it's also interesting to note that while not as popular as Wheel of Time, Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman saw the publication of their own seven-book epic The Death Gate Cycle at nearly the same time.) Sadly, one book shy of finishing the epic, Jordan died on September 16, 2007. Some fans can't help but compare his fate to Frank Herbert. What's disconcerting is that lightning has indeed struck twice and I imagine this won't be the only time such an event will occur. (Maybe that's the new catchphrase--he/she pulled a "Frank Hebert/Robert Jordan".) Will Jordan's work live on? Certainly. But one will always wonder what it would have been like had Jordan had a few more months to complete his epic. What makes me admire Jordan is that like Ishinomori, he fought 'til the end, struggling and dreaming of stories to write even as the shadow of death loomed over him. The greatest stories ever told aren't necessarily the ones in fiction. The likes of Jordan show us that a writer's life can be as exciting and courageous as the stories the author writes.

The RPG Bookshelf Syndrome

Lately I've been pondering the nature of tabletop RPGs and its relation to books. On one hand, it's a game. On another, it's a book. Perhaps nothing best illustrates this better than what I call the RPG Bookshelf Syndrome. The premise is simple: you buy a RPG book, you read it, and then it goes to your bookshelf. For one reason or another, you don't use the book in your game. Veteran gamers have probably experienced this at least once in their life. (If you've actually played every single RPG book you own, consider yourself lucky. Especially if you're a GM and not a player.)

The gamer in me mourns whenever this syndrome occurs. A friend several years ago told me that was planning on getting d20 Modern. I was enthusiastic, especially since prior to his announcement, I didn't even know he was into tabletop RPGs. When I asked if he had fellow players, it was in the negative. He then told me that he's bought several RPG books prior to this such as the various White Wolf books and he loved to read it for flavor, even if he'll never play or run a game in his life. Again, the gamer in me sees this event as a tragedy. But these days, I'm thinking maybe this phenomenon is legitimate, that it's not as bad as it sounds.

Tabletop RPGs after all are books. Whether you're reading it for fluff (flavor) or snuff (game mechanics), it's still an interesting read. I mean on the side of flavor, you have fictional histories (does that make something like The Grand History of the Realms non-fiction fiction?), anthropological write-ups, and even short stories. I'm not a big fan of something like Tolkien's Simarillion but hey, some people found it an interesting read. World-building is actually encouraged in RPG books. As for game mechanics, some people might scoff at the idea of drawing inspiration from them but then again, there are people who are interested in math, in game design, and in game development. Game rules in many ways support the story a tabletop RPG has to tell. Reading game mechanics might not be for everyone but there's a gamer out there who was inspired thanks to a rule variant from Unearthed Arcana for example.

I honestly think it's the greatest if every person got to use a RPG they book in their game. But failing that, merely resorting to use it as reading material perhaps isn't so bad. At the end of the day, it's still a book after all.

Top 10 UK Childrens Author

According to Guardian Unlimited Books, ITV3 commissioned a survey among 16 - 34 year olds to find out who the most popular children's author was. (Before I ask why 16 - 34 year olds, what was the basis of the demographic and it's eerie that it was surveyed for the Ronald Dahl weekend.)

1. Roald Dahl
2. CS Lewis
3. JM Barrie
4. JK Rowling
5. Anthony Horowitz
6. Jacqueline Wilson
7. Dr Seuss
8. Philip Pullman
9. Francesca Simon
10. Enid Blyton

Obscure Favorites by 50 Authors

From Bookshelves of Doom

Guardian Unlimited Books has a feature How Did We Miss These? (Part 1 and Part 2) as they ask various authors to nominate their favorite, underrated novel. Here's the recommendation of some authors included in the list:

Philip Pullman

The Balloonist (1977)

MacDonald Harris

My candidate for revival is a book by the American writer MacDonald Harris, who died in 1993, and none of whose 16 novels remain in print. Why he isn't better known I simply don't understand, because he's outstandingly good.

If I have to restrict myself to one novel (and it is difficult) I'll nominate The Balloonist - an adventure story, told in the first person, about an expedition by balloon to the North Pole in 1897. It's leisurely, it's subtle and reflective, it's funny, it's accurate and fascinating about the technical business of flying balloons and meteorology and the mysteries of early radio; there's a love story that is tender, sexy and ridiculous all at once, there are characters who are firmly conceived and rounded and surprising, there's an immaculate and jazz-like sense of rhythm and timing; but best of all there's that sensation that comes so rarely, but is as welcome as a cool breeze on a hot day when it does - the sensation that here is a subtle, witty and intelligent mind that really knows how to tell a story.

Actually, it's almost impossible to read any of Harris's first pages without helplessly turning to the next, and the next. I'm astonished that he's not far better known.

Michael Chabon

The Long Ships (1941-45)

Frans Gunnar Bengtsson

I personally guarantee that, however infinitesimally, the world would be a happier place if this wonderful novel, in its excellent English translation by Michael Meyer, were restored to print. A tale of Viking adventure set in the 10th century, what makes The Long Ships such a delicious book is not its thrilling escapes, battles and rescues, nor its lifelike, morally ambiguous heroes and villains, but the droll, astringent, sly tone taken by the narrator toward the characters, particularly with regard to their relations to God, gold and sex. It's a world classic of the literature of adventure, on a par with The Three Musketeers and The Odyssey, its avowed models.

Podcast for 2007/09/06

I've been listening to podcasts all week (just to be fair to the podcasters I'm plugging) and just when I've gone through 3/4 of the pile, now comes along a new load of podcasts! It's interesting to see Tor get into the podcasting business and if you're an etymology-fan like me, Podictionary is worth visiting.

Writing/Fiction:

• The Agony Column has a short interview with Alan Beatts of Borderland Books and another interview with Laura Furman as she talks about O. Henry. Last but not least is a relatively brief chat with Kim Stanley Robinson.
  
• Tor just launched a new Podcast program and their first episode features Tom Doherty himself and Patrick Nielsen Hayden on Nippon2007 Worldcon. (From SF Signal) They've also uploaded several new podcasts including chatting with Cory Doctorow, George Takei, Patrick Nielsen at winning best editor, Jay Lake, Robert Charles Wilson, and Charles Stross.
  
• The Signal interviews Martin Firrell and gives your regular dose of reviews.
• Podictionary Weekly explores the words library, ditto, dynamite, censorship, and abracadabra.
• The Bat Secundo Show (now that's a guy with personality) has an interview with William Gibson (never thought I'd get tired of typing the name William Gibson), Matthew Sharpe and Megan Sullivan, and Kate Christensen.
• It's Karen J. Fowler, author of The Jane Austen Book Club, over at Penguin Podcasts.
  

Gaming:

• Back in February, the D&D Podcast had a feature on Dead Gentlemen Production's Dorkness Rising (trailer up at their website). My typically male-gamer reaction was that Jen Page is hot! Guess who's Gamer Radio Zero's new co-host over at Gleemax (if my guess is right... also bonus points for OD&D fans as she doesn't play 3.0!)? They also interview Jamie Chambers (actual link to the show!) of Margaret Weis Productions and talk about their new Battlestar Galactica game, an upcoming Supernatural game, and more Dead Gentlemen Productions.
• More useful recordings from Pulp Gamer, there's Podcasting 101 from Gen Con and is probably a good listen if you're interested in trying your hand at podcasting (irregardless if it's gaming-related or not). They they have their Out of Character segment in which they interview Wesley Schneider of Paizo and a recording of Polymancer Studios's advice on setting up a booth at conventions, among other things. Last but not least is another recording from Gen Con, this time talking about the equipment and programs used for podcasting. (So should I get into podcasting now?)
  
• All Games Considered talks about their Gen Con experience (sensing a trend here for the past three weeks?).
• Dragons Landing is back! They foray into a new series on Campaign Creation.
• Sons of Kryos has their new podcast up which talks about their experiences during Gen Con.
• Fear the Boot's latest episode is entitled Introducing Players to New Settings.
• Master Plan addresses some comments from Paul Tevis.
• One podcast people should look into even if you're not into gaming is The Digital Front as they talk about electronically-distributed games (which in turn are books/publications). Episode 2 is a recording of the Open Gaming License/d20 panel during Gen Con.
• Bear's Grove Podcast talks about how he likes to design modules and his plans for Dragon Con.
• Carpe GM covers D&D 4th Ed.
• The Durham 3 discuss when it's time to end a game.
• New episode up from Fell Calls.
• The Game Master Show has their Gen Con wrap-up.
• Geek Label Radio has their Gen Con wrap-up as well.
• The House of the Harping Monkey has posted part 1 and part 2 of their Gen Con coverage.

Future Canon

One pastime people love is predicting the future, even if their conjectures are totally baseless. Anyway, New York Magazine asked several university personalities about the books they think will make it to The Future Canon. I was actually surprised a comic made it in there (Chris Ware is really talented).

1. Atonement, by Ian McEwan
2. Their Dogs Came With Them, by Helena María Viramontes
3. Zadie Smith
4. Call Me by Your Name, by André Aciman
5. Amitav Ghosh
6. J. M. Coetzee
7. Jimmy Corrigan: The Smartest Kid on Earth, by Chris Ware
8. Colson Whitehead
9. Jonathan Lethem
10. I Looked Alive, by Gary Lutz
11. Austerlitz, by W.G. Sebald
12. Jhumpa Lahiri

They also have a long list of The Best Novels You've Never Read.

Call for submissions to an anthology of Southeast Asian Literature

From Panitikan

Another late-on-the-news announcement on my part but aspiring writers still have two weeks to crank out something:

Southeast Asia has been a region long divided not only by geographical and cultural boundaries but by the question of identity and belonging. One anthology will attempt to present the shades of contemporary Southeast Asian experiences of cultural/sexual identity, globalization, immigrant/expatriate experience, third culture phenomena, and new technologies, among others.

The call for submissions is open to Southeast Asian writers and translators under 40 years old. The anthology will focus on works dealing with contemporary themes, or employing new forms in poetry; prose (fiction, travelogues, essays, blogs, text, etc); drama (one-act plays, short screen/teleplays); graphic arts and comics (under 30 pages long); and everything in between—literary experiments as well as genre works (horror, sci-fi, fantasy, etc, or combinations thereof). Works must be limited to 8,000 words and must be in English (translations must be accompanied by the original text). Previously published works are also welcome.

Please send submissions to sealitbook@gmail.com, as attachments in MS Word document format. Deadline for manuscripts is September 15, 2007. Contributors will get multiple copies of the book.

The anthology editors are Jerome Kugan (Malaysia) and Mervin Espina (Philippines)

Paul Dini and Free Fiction

I ditched the home computer's Wireless USB Adapter and instead settled for a 20-meter network cable (experience in tech support will increase your vocabulary by giving you adverbs like "intermittent errors" and "irate callers").

Anyway, here's two things that I managed to steal from my friend's list:

Paul Dini has posted on his livejournal a short Q&A, answering questions why Batman: The Animated Series or Justice League Unlimited got cancelled.

Nick Mamatas on the other hand plugs Clarkesworld Magazine's latest fiction, Lost Soul by M P Ericson.

Podcasts for 2007/08/30

Because of the fickle whims of fate (I just thought of this up last Thursday), every Thursday I'll be giving podcast updates on the world of fiction/writing and tabletop RPGs. (And no, there's too much of those that I haven't had the time to listen to all of them!)

Fiction/Writing:

• The Agony Column has several news reports up: a short interview with bookseller Mark V. Ziesing and his wife on the business of bookselling (are books gathering dust?), another short interview with SF author Peter H. Hamilton and why he set up a commonwealth when he already had a perfectly good confederation, a conversation with Seana Graham, a contributor to Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet (a publication from Small Beer Press), and another quickie with Xialou Guo.
• Amazon.com's Wire Blog has an interview with William Gibson on Spook Country. (From SF Signal )
  
• More Agony Column interviews as Rick Kleffel talks with Kaui Hart Hemmings and Dr. Adrianne Ahern.
• The Survival Guide to Writing Fantasy has a repeat broadcast of DragonCon 2006 in preparation for DragonCon 2007 as well as their latest podcast entitled "Tough Love" which talks about receiving criticism.
• I Should Be Writing not only has her latest podcast up (which talks about writing advice) but also has an interview with Mercedes Lackey and Steve Libbey.
• The Penguin Podcast has an interview with Alexandra Koslow (Slacker Girl) and Ron Bliwas (The C Student's Guide to Success).
• Michael Stackpole has uploaded chapters fifteen and sixteen of Fortress Draconis.
  

Gaming:

• Gleemax has a post-Gen Con discussion as they interview Lisa Stevens and Erik Mona of Paizo Publishing and the Ultimate Gamer Test winners.
• Pulp Gamer has a live Gen Con podcast and they talk about the reception of podcasting during the con among other things. They also have an interview with Peter Adkison, and a recording of one of the Game Trade Show 2007 seminars as they give tips on how retailers can survive and thrive in the business.
• Various post-Gen Con news at Accidental Survivors but a good amount of time is spent on discussing mapmaking.
  
• More post-gen Con podcasting and a quick interview with Randy Beuhler and Gleemax himself (so that's what he sounds like!) over at Groovecast.
• Green Ronin interviews Russ Morrissey of Enworld and hosts a round-table discussion with various Mutants and Masterminds writers (bonus points if you get all the comic references!).
• The Tome interviews Wolfgang Baur.
• Canonpuncture has the first part of their post-Gen Con podcast.
• Gamer's Haven has a recording of Goodman Games's seminar (during Gen Con) How to Make Adventures that Don't Suck.
• The Gamer Traveler reminisces on the recently concluded Gen Con.
• Did I mention that that Have Games Will Travel won the golden Ennie for best podcasting? You know where this link leads to.
• Midnight's Lair has comments on various games.
• Son of Kryos interviews Paul Tevis, an Ennie winner.
• Theory from the Closet also has an interview with Paul Tevis and another one with Ryan Macklin of Master Plan (psst, you should stop interviewing your rivals! Unless it's an excuse to assassinate them!).
• All Games Considered covers MichCon.
• The Digital Front is a newly-established podcast and in their first episode, they give an introduction as well as an interview with Steve Wieck, co-owner of OneBookShelf.
• Fear the Boot rants and raves about a lot of things, including Gen Con.
• HeadGames Podcast has Origins interview with Mark Anticole and Aaron Kreader.
• Edit: Here's one tidbit I missed. The Voice of the Revolution tackles a post-Gen Con 2007 gaming world.
  

Check out last week's podcasts.

Podcasts Weekly 2007/08/23

In the strange way my mind works, Wade Rockett made a comment to my plug and it got me thinking: is there a site that compiles the various Podcasts? I'm not talking about iTunes in which you're subscribed to Podcasts but more like SF Signal or even Enworld in which they have a regular list of links and a brief description of them pertaining to their particular field... except it's podcasts.

For example, if I were to summarize this week's podcasts, it'd go something like this (of course in no way am I an expert in Podcasting):

Writing/Fiction:

• Rick Kleffel of The Agony Column interviews William Gibson and talks about his new book, Spook Country.
• The Penguin Podcast likewise has an interview with William Gibson (from SF Signal).
• EDIT: More Gibson at Boing Boing (from SF Signal)..
  
• Ben Vincent from Storytellers Unplugged talks about critique groups and how it's helped him (and not helped him) write.
• Mur Lafferty of I Should Be Writing gives us his regular dose.
• The Survival Guide to Writing Fantasy breaks from its norm with Flash Gordon.
• Writers Talking discuss setting up schedules and rituals.
• Writing for Pay has part 2 with Wolfgang Baur who talks about a different kind of self-publishing.

RPG Gaming

• Gamer Radio Zero at Gleemax gives us the inside scoop about 4th Ed as he talks with some of the game's designers.
• The Tome gives us the initial announcement of 4th Ed during GenCon.
• Dave Noonan and Mike Mearls at the D&D Podcast talk about 4th Ed without discussing the mechanics of the game.
• Writing for Pay has part 2 with Wolfgang Baur who talks more about Open Design, Kobold Quarterly, and breaking into the gaming industry.
  
• As expected, more 4th Ed coverage from Pulp Gamer as they interview Scott Rouse and Bill Slavicsek.
  

Politics and Religion in Fiction

They say that when you want to strike a conversation with a stranger, avoid topics concerning politics or religion: it’s unlikely you’ll both agree and what would have been a friendly chit-chat turns into a heated debate. However, I do think those two factors are quite integral to us as human beings, and they easily shape our psyche and paradigm of the world—which in turn influence what we read and how we interpret them.

Take for example George Orwell’s Animal Farm or even 1984. Why do we easily consider them classics but not the likes of Mein Kampf? I do think modern readers are biased towards texts that are more sympathetic to their political beliefs and in my case and in the case of the West, that usually means democratic ideals more than communist philosophies (of course to be fair to Communism, I think the flaw isn’t necessarily in the intent but rather in the execution in which it presupposes altruism in our leaders and our citizens, while Democracy pre-supposes self-interest).

As a SF&F fan, living in a conservative country and family can be trying, whether you’re Catholic or even Christian. Reading any book that incorporates magic is easily assumed to be evil, just as reading any text that has a pantheon of deities or even the lack of one. It also seems unfair that you can’t have evil antagonists in your fiction to be considered wholesome: you can’t have demons or devils as they are perceived as corrupting forces by zealots. Something as benign as Harry Potter is perceived as blasphemous for the sole reason that the main character uses magic. Don’t even get me started with playing games like Dungeons & Dragons. Just because there’s a demon or a devil in the Monster Manual, some fanatics think that the point of the game is to worship them when in fact it’s not—gamers are out to kill demons and devils (and hopefully loot their bodies and plunder their wealth). Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if people were consistent but we can be blind to our own prejudices. The same condemners who are defiant at something like Lord of the Rings praise books like Chronicles of Narnia despite the fact that Tolkien and Lewis were friends, or the fact that the latter work also has protagonists using magic. There’s even an author who was ostracized by his mother for the sake of religion because his latest novel has a protagonist who was a lesbian but she didn’t seem to have a qualm with the previous protagonists who were murderers (and even if being gay was a sin, I’d choose the former over the latter any day). I also remember seeing the Left Behind series in our church’s bookstore and for a good time, that series occupied a good chunk of shelf space in the fiction section of the local bookstore although why it was there and not in the SF&F section (in which it could have easily fit in) I can’t imagine why (actually I can: it’s marketing).

In many ways, it begs the question: is good writing nonetheless good writing irregardless of your political or religious beliefs? Is it even possible to judge writing solely on the basis of writing alone, stripped of any morality or political ideology? Better yet, should literature exist in a vacuum? As much as I’m tempted to stick with an objective truth, that’s simply not the case in the real world. We compare not just with what’s been written before and in the present but similarly how it affects us. If I were to write Neuromancer today for example, it wouldn’t be well received considering it was written two decades ago by William Gibson (or the fact that Philip K Dick wrote Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? before that). And in many ways, Pattern Recognition has more resonance with today’s readers than Neuromancer because of the ideas and concepts the former tackles that wasn’t necessarily evident to the public in the 80’s but a definite hallmark of the 21st century (similarly, if Neuromancer had been published a decade earlier, would it have been as well received?).

When it comes to politics and religion, I do think the two play an integral role in what we deem as good reading. Shakespeare for example wouldn’t resonate so strongly if he didn’t tackle the human condition (and isn’t that why critic Harold Bloom loves him so much?). The Bible is popular not necessarily because of its skillful writing (Psalms and Proverbs aside) but rather due to the hope and ideas it conveys (and if there’s any lyrical prose in the Bible, a lot of it has probably been lost in the translation which has taken a more functional form—just look at the Peter and “rock” pun which probably only scholars would understand). An example closer to home is science fiction. More so than any genre, a lot of readers come to science fiction for its ideas and concepts that typically revolve around politics, religion, or both. Just look at what we consider classics: Flowers for Algernon, Fahrenheit 451, or The Giver. They’re science fiction books not necessarily for the science but because they talk about the human condition, the political landscape of their times, the attempt at finding an utopia (and I think utopian societies are the nigh-unreachable goals of any political system or religious belief—the tragedy of the Knights of the Round Table was that it was a political system that espouses equality in a feudal society and isn’t heaven or Elysium or nirvana the perfect society we’re all looking for that religion conveniently provides?).

Even authors aren’t immune. The Wizard of Earthsea trilogy for example is a beautiful series on the literal level but Ursula K le Guin went about ret-conning the events that took place in the first three books in her sequels because she took offense at what she had written—the newer Earthsea books are definitely a reflection of her new political and religious outlook. Terry Goodkind, on the other hand, was fiercely political when he was writing the middle of the Sword of Truth series and was attempting the fantasy equivalent of Animal Farm (at that point, I dropped Goodkind because his propaganda came at the price of moving the story forward).

That’s not to say that books should be moralistic or worse, didactic, in order for them to be classics or good reads but rather I do think that society’s hierarchy of values certainly plays a significant role in how we read books and better yet, how we react to them. Gulliver’s Travels for example probably wouldn’t have been considered a classic if it wasn’t such a political allegory for its time. It’s the same reason why the church is reacting so strongly towards The Da Vinci Code (and why the masses got caught up in it the first place) even if at the end of the day, the story wasn’t originally intended as counter-propaganda more than a storytelling vehicle. Book banning and censorship is another example of society’s attempt to revise their political and religious belief, as if the political incorrectness of the authors that have gone before them are reflective of their current society: negroes instead of African Americans, Indians instead of Native Americans. And not surprisingly, some modern readers do react so strongly to such bodies of work that simply used the language of its time and reflective of its current society. That’s not to say that these complaints are justified but the heart of the argument can be traced to one’s ideologies and why these books were placed in the canon in the first place.

I think one fact that we readers can take comfort in is that fiction is so highly-prized that such issues can come about: we care enough about the books we read that we want to revise them or failing that, censor or outright ban them. Works of fiction is given the same treatment and focus as we would history books, even if the former claims to be lies while the latter truth. I think that on a subconscious level, people are aware that history is about as subjective as fiction, albeit with more research. And at the end of the day, what character in fiction is devoid of politics or religion, even if these political and religious beliefs are fictional (i.e. psychohistory in Foundation). Perhaps those facts make fiction resonate so strongly to the reader even if the story is something as simple as Humpty Dumpty (I was tempted to use Jack and Jill but I’m sure the feminists would find a way to condemn/praise the portrayal of Jill or simply the title itself—just goes to show that we can read politics/religion into anything).

Flash Fiction Wanted

From Kristine and Luis are Listening:

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

i magazine, the newest quarterly publication from the team behind the i section of the Manila Bulletin, is now accepting submissions for FLASH FICTION in English.

Launching October 2007, the i magazine is high-concept publication inspired by Another magazine and Tank, headlining fashion (a whopping 120 pages of it) as well as Filipino excellence, both here and overseas.

Feature stories range from Filipinos excelling in their fields (i.e. designers, artists, writers, professionals, or high-level executives abroad), new angles on Filipino culture stories (i.e. comparative story on a famous sculptor and a new young sculptor with similar aesthetics, or ethnographic stories of Filipino culture in European countries), and special-interest stories relating to Filipinos or Filipino culture ( i.e. Filipino toy designer in an international toy company, Filipinos who have more eclectic collections, or Filipino architects and engineers involved in reconstruction or preservation of historical buildings).

The i magazine is currently accepting flash fiction submissions for the maiden issue, in keeping with the editorial direction to introduce fresher, more intelligent, and though-provoking content that is still digestible for local readers. We are looking for stories that capture a brief moment, a single breath. We are looking for an irreverent piece, in the structured prose of fiction, with the lyrical movement of poetry. Hopefully, through these shorts bursts of story, we can slowly open up more readers to Philippine fiction.

Accepted submissions will be paid P500.00 a pop. Deadline is June 16, 2007 July 16, 2007. Send in your stuff now!

Submission Guidelines

1. All stories must be in English.
2. All stories must be at 150 words or less.
3. Priority will be given to stories that have Filipino content or references.
4. Stories must not have strong political or religious content, nor any blatantly offensive content.
5. Stories must not contain outright profanity.
6. While stream of consciousness or post-modern approaches are allowed, stories must be clear and palatable for target readers.
7. Stories must not have been released before in newspapers, magazines, or other commercial publications. Stories previously released in books or other anthologies must have written consent for publication.
8. Submissionsmust be in standard manuscript format: font size 12, double-spaced, on letter-sized paper, in true type font (i.e. Arial, Times New Roman). 9. Email submissions only. Stories must be attached as rich text format (.RTF) file. Subject of email must read " Flash Fiction submission for i magazine_(TITLE OF STORY)_(AUTHOR)."
10. Submissions must include short author biography with contact information as (rich text format) RTF file.
11. Pseudonyms are allowed. For billing purposes, authors using pseudonyms must clearly indicate his or her real name along with the biography and contact information.
12. Only authors of approved works will be contacted by the i magazine editors.

Email submissions to morningcup@gmail.com. Deadline for submissions is JULY 16, 2007.

Activities at A Different Bookstore

SUMMER FUN AT a different bookstore calendar of activities

Drawing and Painting workshop
- Serendra: April 17, 19, 24 & 26, 2007 - 11:00 AM to 12:00 NN
- Eastwood: April 17, 19, 24 & 26, 2007 - 4:00 PM to 5:00 PM
- Fees - P350.00 per head, per session (P600.00 for the watercolor
session which happens on the last workshop date)
- Inclusive of all materials.
- Age: 7 to 12 years old.
- Modules: Crayon scratchboard, human anatomy and comic strip
creation, portraits and basic watercolor.

Arts & Crafts workshop
- Serendra: May 01, 03, 08 & 10, 2007 - 11:00 AM to 12:00 NN
- Eastwood: May 01, 03, 08 & 10, 2007 - 4:00 PM to 5:00 PM
- Age: 7 to 12 years old
- Fees - P350.00 per head, per session / Inclusive of all materials.
- Modules: Batik-making, paper toile, soap sculptures & do-it-all dolls

Digital Photography for kids
- Serendra: April 13, 20, 27 & May 4, 2007 - 4PM to 5:30 PM
- Fees - P1,500.00 for the entire workshop (all 4 sessions)
- Workshop attendees are to provide their own digital cameras.
- Age: 7 to 12 years old.
- Facilitators: Photographers from "Blow Up Babies"

A Day with Ms. Lisa Macuja Elizalde
- Meet and greet the country's prima ballerina, Ms. Lisa Macuja
Elizalde, as she talks about ballet and signs autographs of her book.
- Serendra: May 18, 2007 - 4PM
- Eastwood: May 11, 2007 - 4PM

Book Illustration Workshop
- Serendra: April 18, 25, May 2, 9, 16 & 23, 2007 - 1PM to 3:00 PM
- Fees - P2,500.00 for the entire workshop (all 6 sessions)
- Inclusive of all materials
- Age: 7 to 12 years old.

Comics 101: Comic Illustration Workshop
- Serendra: May 7, 14 & 21, 2007 - 2PM to 5:00 PM
- Fees - P250.00 per head / per session
- Age: 18 years old and up
- Moderators: Artists from Nautilus comics

Creative Writing Workshop
- Eastwood: May 5, 12 & 19, 2007 - 4PM to 6:00 PM
- Fees - P300.00 per head / per session
- Age: 18 years old and up
- Moderators: Writers and authors from The Litcritters Group

For inquiries and reservations, please visit or call:
A Different Bookstore
Serendra, Bonifacio Global City - 856-0330 / 909-5078
Eastwood City - 687-3932

The Format Wars

A John writes to John August about an article an article from the New Yorker by David Denby. The two articles talk about the new video format, namely watching movies on your iPod. There is, undeniably, something lost in the movie experience when you're watching it from your palm -- that is what David Denby mourns. John August, on the other hand, is a bit more optimistic, accepting the possibilities that might emerge. (And indeed, just look at the Green Arrow spinoff from Smallville that will be released only in Sprint phones.)

Format affects form, no doubt about that. Although perhaps people aren't necessarily making the most out of it at the moment. I do think there's an "optimal" show to be viewed on the iPod, to be posted on YouTube, videos on mobile phones, etc. (Check out Ze Frank as he doesn't overuse his small screen.) It's just not maximixed, I think. And in terms of entertainment, it is important. Because more and more people are exploring these mediums without necessarily giving it the right form. (Trailers for the US run of Death Note will be released at the New York Comic Con for example and fans will view in on their phones -- hopefully it'll be presented in the right way.)

An example of format not matching form occurs in comics. The format isn't necessarily the size of the sheet but when it's released. To a US comic fan, manga might appear decompressed. To a manga fan, Western comics might seem like the opposite: compressed (especially with those huge chunk of text). That's because both markets are used to different formats. The manga format works because it's released on a weekly basis. (There are manga titles that are released on a monthly basis as well but their stories are more tighter than the weekly manga titles.) US comics, on the other hand, are typically monthlies. Which is also why US comics usually cope with large chunks of text as exposition (instead of just huge chunks of text in dialogue, which manga has no shortage of). It's about as different as watching a 30-minute episode from a 1-hour one: one has more freedom to tell the story while the other must make do with what he has.

Prose, I think, hasn't truly caught up with this problem yet, simply because there's too many formats running around. In print, prose has no problem -- that's the job of the graphic designer. In other formats, however, such as web pages and eBooks, that's a different matter. The publisher of eBooks, for example, has no control where you'll be reading the document: will it be on the computer which has a larger screen? On the phone? On an eBook reader? The dimensions are fluid and vary -- it's far from consistent yet. The same goes with web pages: heck, I don't know how many times you've scrolled down to be reading this part. Blogger's tools aren't up to part to give me an idea on how many "screen units" I've consumed, and perhaps any web designer knows the true problems of publishing on the web: there's no consistent resolution size. The best they can do is recommend the "optimized resolution" for viewing a certain web page. Seven years ago there was consistency in the 800 x 600 resolution but no one uses that these days. The thing with resolution is that it quickly scales up with the video cards and monitors that get released (granted they're not as fast as breakthroughs in processesors and memory but they're still fast). Which is something to consider especially when you're in advertising.

The possibilities I see for fiction, for example, is something that's faster than "fast food fiction" or "short short stories" -- perhaps a story that fits one screen (given of course a reasonable font size). Maybe it's something online writers should consider. But again, unlike iPod screens and YouTube, there's no "universal" resolution yet and screen sizes remains fluid (and in the end, one could always reshape the browser window).

The Librarian

by Charles Tan

One of my few stories that was workshopped heavily, The Librarian was influenced by Jorge Luis Borges's short stories. It's still my opinion that it was my best work of fiction while I was still pursuing my undergraduate degree. For quite some time, it was the only story I had produced, and my batchmate EJ even teased me about it, calling my name and then saying "librarian", and then laughing afterwards. Admittedly it's not a story that appeals to everyone because of the lack of character sympathy, but hopefully it's just not me that enjoyed this story. Last revised in May of 2003.

Years of research and not even a hint. The closest historical record I could find alludes to the Library of Alexandria, but even that is just a mere shadow. No, the library I am interested in is not limited to any structure built by man.

I do not remember how I had stumbled upon it. I was not even looking for it at the time. Perhaps I was dreaming. Or suffering the effects of hallucinogens. Had I crossed a rift in reality? Or attained the state of nirvana while meditating? Whatever the case, my entry into The Library has been clouded by memory and attempts to re-enter had failed.

I am sure though that at one point, I was in The Library. It cannot be classified as a place in the fullest sense of the word for it does not occupy any space, or time, for that matter. The Library exists outside of our world yet is still accessible to some. One of my theories is that it lies in the nexus between temporality and eternity, still a part of reality yet ignoring its limitations.

The Library is vast. It has no center and all around are endless corridors of bookshelves, each twice the size of any man. At first, I thought it was an optical illusion. Maybe something out of Borges. But there were no mirrors, just shelves and the books they contained. I do not know how long it took me, perhaps the equivalent of an hour in the real world, to verify that. I passed several dozen bookcases only to find that I still had further to go in either direction.

The shelves seemed to be made of wood, dark and thick. There was nothing distinguishing about them, except for the fact that they all looked identical and one could not tell one bookshelf from another. Even the books they stored all looked bland and uniform, each sharing the same size, cover, and paper. I wondered how one files the books.

I tried scratching the shelves to leave a mark, my trail of breadcrumbs in this wooden wilderness. But the shelf resisted and looked no different from the one beside it. I fumbled my pockets for a knife or even a pen but they were empty. Strange, considering I never leave home without a pen.

I was about to grab a book, using the shelf with an empty slot as a reference when I heard a voice. This voice was not something my ears heard but rather something that echoed in my mind, an idea that does not seem to leave your memory. One could mistake it for one’s own thoughts but there was something that separated me from "it". I knew that what I was "hearing" wasn’t my idea for I was determined in navigating this labyrinth through any means possible.

And then it occurred to me. What if this library that seemed to have no end contained all the books in the world? Not just the books that have been written but are being written and have yet to be written. If that was so, what place could hold such an infinite collection?

I realized that I was beyond space and beyond time. Even more mysterious than the place I was in was the source of these thoughts. Who could be here aside from me? But every library has its librarian, the caretaker of knowledge, the guide of souls.

Was it a him or a her? I do not know. As far as I was concerned, the librarian was a voice in my mind, a presence that defied all logic. Not all logic, just my logic. There are scientific journals that explore the possibility of telepathy. And one of the debates of philosophy is the ability of man to communicate directly with the other without requiring a medium.

At this point, the distinction between my thoughts and the librarian’s thoughts became blurred.

Lost histories, forgotten tomes, sacred scriptures, unfound journals, burned books, banned manuscripts, apocrypha, encyclopedias, compendiums, anthologies, best-sellers, short stories, vignettes, novels, classics, sonnets, free verse, litanies, essays, plays, scripts, tragedies, comedies, translations, myths, legends, epics, codices, literature of unborn civilizations – all these were available. I knew where each book was, its subject matter, and which shelf it lay. I merely had to choose. One.

Why one? Such a small number compared to the thousands of books published every year, such a small number compared to the authors born in my lifetime, such a small number compared to the translations of The Iliad and The Odyssey.

Tick. Tock. No clock was ticking for I exist out of time. But my heart was pounding, my brain racing for answers. Breath deeply. Again. Yes, things are becoming clearer now. Which book to read?

Surely not history for even the accounts of what happened on November 22, 1963 are too numerous to be contained in merely one book. And an account is only as truthful as its author. The Library, after all, does not discriminate. There is a twinge of curiosity about the future but this library is not limited by the physical laws of the world. A text written in the future I might read but who can say that what it contains will actually occur? All the possible futures, as well as all the possible pasts, are documented.

How about books on empirical data? Somewhere in this library is the formula that will convert lead into gold. But would I really care to know what that formula is? Would I even remember it once I leave this place? Would I risk the answer to one of the many questions that plague my life for something as trivial as this?

I think The Library is playing a cruel game on me. I could spend the equivalent of years in this place and still not decide. I am Althea and Meleager both at once, holding my fate before me. Choose and I regain my mortality. Not choose and I will be trapped in despair. I envy the All-father who was able to exchange one of his eyes for a draught in the Well of Wisdom.

Wait! This place is a library, even if it is the result of some cosmic machination. There is one person who would be able to read all the books in The Library for that person is as much a part of The Library as its books.

Who art thou, librarian? You have neither name nor gender, merely is. You know where all the books lie, what each one contains. Surely one must have been tempted? Ah, I see. Every treasure has its own safeguards against its caretakers. Did the Egyptians not bury the architects of the pyramids with the structures they themselves designed? Yours is a harsh existence. You know where all the books are but you are blind. You cannot read the very works you guard. The irony. I wonder what kind of life you live.

Perhaps it is actually possible to know. A biography of the librarian. That is the book I want to read. Unfortunately that is the one book that does not exist. There is no one to write about the librarian, no soul to narrate your existence.

What if I write a book about the librarian? But the nature of The Library is to have all the books, including that which has not yet been written. All the books except one is a contradiction. Would I create a paradox? There is a book on paradoxes.

A book I have written. Yes, that is a more plausible request.

Immediately, I knew the exact location of the book I was interested in. I passed a few shelves, turned a few corners, and then passed several more shelves. There was this book that looked plain and no different from the rest but I knew its pages contained my name. I held its leather covering and started turning the pages. I saw the title and I saw my name. It was indeed the book I had written, or rather will write.

In my hand was a book about The Library and its librarian. A paradox it seems. I wonder what would happen next. I turned the pages. And turned. And turned—

Gemini

by Charles Tan

In order to graduate, my batch was required to come out with an anthology featuring our works. I wanted to do a speculative fiction story, except the one I worked on earlier got rejected (even if I thought it was superior to this one). While perhaps not my personal best, it shows what kind of fiction I was writing back in 2003. It was last revised in October 22 of the same year. Maybe I'll come back to it in the future.

Fables. Legends. Myths. It does not matter to me how different they are from each other; they're all one and the same as far as I'm concerned: they're stories. If there's one thing I enjoy more than listening to them, it's telling them. And perhaps that's why I find myself as a bard. But enough about me. As much as I love to prattle about myself, the story I'm about to tell is not about me. At least not at first.

Several years ago, I was drawn to the realm of Twin Peaks. It was originally named after the two valleys that surrounded the place, but some people speculate that the reason for its name is because of the frequency of twins that are birthed in the area. That being the case, it was not surprising that the king and queen of the realm gave birth to twins two decades earlier.



My story revolves around them, the twin princes as they were called. Some kind of conflict had arisen when the king and queen had passed away, and the one who now sits on the throne is Jason, the younger of the twins. I had ventured far from my home to hear his story, that I might add a new tale to my repertoire. I thought myself fortunate when King Jason approved my request for an audience with him.

I will skip the details of how I lodged in a nearby inn (paying for my board with song) and how I covered quite a distance to reach the castle. Suffice to say, I was escorted by guards to the throne room, which had purple drapes covering the walls and a crimson carpet leading to the actual throne. With the exception of the two guards escorting me, the king was alone, comfortably sitting in his throne, his eyes somewhat eager to see me. King Jason was far from what you'd expect a hero would look like. He was skinny and bony, his overflowing robes exaggerating the thinness of his body. His skin was dark and parched, totally unexpected coming from royalty. And then he stood up.

Whatever King Jason lacked in his physic, he made up for in body language and confidence. His poise was firm and his gaze never wavered. He was assessing me just as I was assessing him, that much I was certain. With a quick wave of his hand, the guards beside me nodded and left the room. I was now alone with him, which was strange since kings usually take more precautions than this.

"Greetings," he said. "I am glad you have made the journey safely."

"Thank you for your concern, my lord. I am used to long travels and I am eager to ask for a certain boon from someone such as yourself."

"And what might that be, hmmm?"

"A story, my lord. Your story to be exact."

"And might I ask why you are interested in just a story? Why not ask for gold, or perhaps an artifact I had obtained from my quest?"

"I am but a bard and stories are my way of earning a living. I am sure many people would be interested in hearing your tale. As far as everyone is concerned, you left your kingdom while it was in the hands of your brother, arrived several weeks later, revealed your brother to be an impostor, and ruled the realm ever since. As much as it leaves much room for embellishment, I'd rather have the details so as to give the story a ring of truth."

"And what if you do not find the story I have to tell pleasing?"

"I am a bard, my lord. Making it sound pleasing is what I do best, no matter how unlikely that might be."

King Jason merely smiled at my reply and returned to his seat.

"Very well then. I will begin with where it all started, the birth of my twin."

***

"My parents wanted an heir to the throne. But fate intervened when you least expect it and so my mother had given birth to twins. I was later told by my mother that I was originally supposed to be the eldest, crawling out of her womb first. But my brother grabbed my leg and pulled me before I could get out entirely. Thus it was he who had emerged first and proclaimed the eldest. He was then named Jacob."

"I do not know whether it was because of chance or because Jacob had been proclaimed the heir to the throne, but several days after we were placed in a cradle, someone abducted my brother and replaced him with a creature that looked identically like him. It was just as plump and pale as Jacob, or so I remember. I wailed but when the wet nurse had arrived, it was too late. No one could distinguish the impostor from my real brother. I obviously could not speak at the time and the only way I managed to express my distress was through my screams and tears. The impostor merely mimicked me and started crying as well."

"I would only find out later, after some thorough research, that the impostor was a changeling, a creature that takes the place of newly born babes to be raised by a family that was not its own. The legends say that it would grow to be a mischievous and ugly creature. Unfortunately, only the former was true. The changeling was as handsome as Jacob would have been: golden locks, smooth skin, a firm build—all accented by his confident demeanor. As for me, I would grow to be a pale shadow of him. Mind you, I wasn't as confident as I am now. I was the meek and shy one, the one who would hide in a corner whenever guests would arrive, or the type that would look at his feet whenever someone would stare. The impostor, however, would play tricks on the maids, charm the maidens, and banter insults with the other boys. But whenever we were alone, Jacob would threaten me, and none too often hurt me, just to scare me even if I didn't dare tell anyone about my childhood memory."

"It was on our nineteenth birthday that the impostor had been proclaimed king. Father was ill at the time and was confined to his bed. Mother was too much in distress. Everyone agreed it was the right time for ‘Jacob' to assume his place as king. I, on the other hand, was relegated to court duties. Honestly, I did not want to be king. But I chafe at the idea of the creature pretending to be my brother as ruler of the land. And so on that day, I set out to look for a magical talisman that would reveal the falsehood of the impostor."

***

"I was told by an oracle, after making a huge donation, that beyond Twin Peaks lay a mirror that would show a person's true form. However, I was warned that there were three challenges I had to overcome. The first lay in a hall near the mountains. I must pass through it in order to get to the second challenge. And so I went there, fending off wild animals and brigands on the way. I finally got there but all I saw before me was a huge marble hall shrouded in darkness."

"I entered and was consumed by the putrid smell of rotten bodies. I could not see where the stench came from though because of the darkness. I fumbled through my belongings to get a torch and lit it. I saw the corpses of men still garbed in their armor, a torch in one hand, a blade in the other. There did not appear to be signs of a struggle, only a gaping expression on their faces. And then from the corner of my eye I saw something move in the darkness. A silhouette of my size and shape appeared, creeping out of the fringes of the light. It encircled me, moving from the floors to the walls which was lighted by my torch. It made no sound and all I heard as the crackling of the flames of my torch. And then it slowly drew its sword from its sheath, preparing to thrust its immaterial blade at my beating heart."

"It was actually my folly that saved me. Instead of drawing my own sword, I got frightened and dropped my torch. The shadow suddenly lunged at me, a quick change in tactics considering it was taking its time the other moment. But the light gave out before it could reach me and when I expected its blade to pierce my heart, all I felt was the cold darkness around me and the stench of dead men."

"I hesitated to pick up my torch and reflected on what had just happened. Was the shadow a mere illusion or a real threat? If it was the former, that would not explain the corpses. Of course I wondered why I didn't join the fate of the others if that was the case. And then I remembered the torches and swords the men were holding. Swords would be ineffective against incorporeal monsters such as the shadow I just encountered. The men needed the torches to see their foe, but shadows need light as well to exist. That was their error, and I considered myself lucky that my torch had gone out in time."

"Groping in the darkness, I eventually found my way out. I do not know how much time I spent in that hall and the only way I managed to track my progress was through the fading smell of the corpses I left behind. You also cannot imagine how tempted I was to light a torch even for just a moment; a man can go crazy at not seeing the light. But I remembered the gaping expressions of the dead men and I did not want to share their fate."
***

"The second challenge I faced was something more mundane, albeit just as strange as the first. After exiting the hall I had emerged into a courtyard. Tress and shrubs surrounded me and best of all, I finally saw light. After wandering in the courtyard for some time, I was finally greeted by a two-headed giant garbed in wolf's skin and carrying a pair of wooden clubs."

"The giant approached me and one of the giant's heads introduced himself; the other head appeared to be sleeping. He told me that he had not always been like this. He too was a prince but was born with two personalities. People could not tell the difference between him and his ‘other self' until his other self had committed murder, and was cursed into this form by a wizard as punishment for his crime. To atone, he has been guarding this place ever since."

"I thanked him for his story and asked where I could find the magic mirror. He told me that it was ahead but that he was guarding the mirror and could not let me go any further. It was his duty to protect it, after all, and waved the club he was holding in his left hand to make sure I got the point. He did not sound threatening and in fact said it with a smile, and I did feel his reluctance in having to harm me."

"But the giant's other head seemed to be waking and the head that I was currently conversing with told me to run away. I honestly would have if it were not for the fact that I thought this was probably some kind of test as well as feeling ashamed for not standing my ground in the first trial. The other head finally stirred and the first thing he did was swing his club at me. I managed to dodge it but my courage wavered at that moment. It was strange, hearing from one head to run, while the other was muttering curses and told me to stand still. My sword was not drawn out yet so I thought it would be best to do as the kinder head said."

"The two-headed giant chased me, his stride significantly longer than mine. I did not expect such an abrupt change in my situation but I had to think fast. I headed back to the hall, knowing that the giant would not enter the place. I managed to get there before he could reach me but he guarded the exit, waiting for me to come out. I took a deep breath and planned my next move. I would not win over the giant with strength so I had to do it with guile. Unlike most foes, he had two personalities, hence the personification of two heads. It seems that the two heads were not cooperating with each other and perhaps that is where the giant's weakness lay."

"I drew out my sword, went out, and charged at the giant. One of the giant's faces looked sad and did not even bother to raise his club. The other was eager, his club raised and ready to smash me when I came into range. But I halted before that came to pass and asked the giant a question. I asked which of the two was the strongest. The ferocious one laughed and told me it was him. I then asked both of them what their names were and they both blurted out the same name. As I suspected, no one ever acknowledged them as individuals so the concept of two different names never came up. This caused some confusion between the two as they quarreled over their names, each one wanting the other to choose a different one. I offered to parley between the two, me being a neutral party in their conflict. In exchange for arbitrating, they would not harm me and allow me to continue my quest. I rationalized that there would still be a third challenge awaiting me so letting me pass would not mean automatically failing in their duty to protect the mirror. After all, if I did manage to succeed in conquering the first and third challenge, would it not be logical that I would have succeeded in the second? At least this way, we did not have to slaughter each other and at least they would have one of their problems solved. Either I was more persuasive than I thought or they were quite dim-witted, but the two heads agreed to my proposal."

***

"I left, giving the two-headed giant totally different names altogether. The more violent one I gave the name of Strength, appeasing both his ego and attitude. The other I named Gentle, for I thought he was a kind person at heart. I sheathed my blade and continued on my way until I found a shrine housing the mirror I was looking for. My quest seemed at an end as I gazed into the mirror and saw my reflection."

"Behind the mirror though was a doppelganger, a creature with the ability to take on my shape as well as my memories. As I was looking at the mirror, the doppelganger was assuming my form and prepared to strike me dead with his copy of my sword."

"Suffice to say, I came home with the mirror in tow. I revealed that the changeling was actually not my brother but a foul creature masquerading as him. Everyone saw in the mirror that the creature's reflection was that of a malformed creature, its eyes bulging from their sockets, ears sharp and pointy, skin greenish and pale. The changeling was slain on the spot by the guards, and I eventually took his place as king."

"My father eventually died of his sickness. An investigation showed that the changeling had poisoned my father to hasten his death. I had a proper funeral for both my father and long-gone brother, while the changeling's body I had it burned and the ashes blown to the winds. My mother is currently residing in a monastery, mourning the demise of my father and brother. The mirror is in the treasury and that is the end of my story."

***

I committed to memory King Jason's narrative. He was grinning at me after finishing the story and I felt somewhat uncomfortable as he peered at me.

"My lord, I am concerned at your tale of the third challenge. For the most part, you skipped narrating your conflict with the doppelganger. And judging from how you conquered the previous two challenges, fighting is melee is not your best ability, if I might say so, my lord."

"How perceptive of you. But I know of the way you bards exaggerate your stories and how the commoners do love a dramatic battle at the end. I will leave the embellishments to your discretion." The king smiled at me as he said those words. Again, I felt uncomfortable, but I pressed on knowing this might be the only chance I might have to satisfy my curiosity.

"I appreciate your trust in me, my lord, but I would be much more content if you obliged me in narrating what happened in the shrine between you and the doppelganger."

"Do you really want me to tell you?" The king was smiling when he asked me that question, and as a reflex, I started looking around, observing that all the guards were outside. There was only myself and him.

"I peddle in stories, my lord. But I am just a bard and at the disposal of the king."



"Do you know that names have power? Names are part of a person's identity and for a creature such as the doppelganger, naming himself confines his power. The changeling, for example, once it adopted the name Jacob and introduced himself as Jacob, could no longer alter his shape. He was locked in the identity of ‘Jacob' even though it originally was not his own."

"I have just noticed, my lord, that you have not introduced yourself to me."

"It's funny that while everyone has seen the changeling's reflection in the mirror, no one has ever seen mine."

The man before me just smiled as his laughter echoed around the room.

Friendship

By Charles Tan

With the deadline of Dean Alfar's Speculative Fiction Vol. 2 looming, I thought I'd just archive some of my short stories here. The most recent short story I've written is this one, which I last revised in September 7, 2005. While not speculative in nature, some people liked my treatment for the first character.

-Paul-

Matthew 19: 30. But many who are first will be last...

This restaurant must be more Christian than I thought. Because my order hasn't arrived yet even though I was the first one at the counter. Mike yawns, taco shell bits on his plate. Marie had a bunch of leftovers, mostly tomatoes and strips of lettuce from her salad. Not much to say about Vincent and his empty bowl. The chili must have been very good.

The waiter finally arrives with my dinner plate. He smiles at me, as if his grin would turn back time and undo the twenty minutes I've been waiting for my beef burrito. The waiter reminds me of the ushers at church, a little bit too enthusiastic. I want to smack him in the face, and demand a refund.

Matthew 5: 22. But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment…

Instead, I take the plate calmly and smile back at the waiter. Thank you, I say. It seems I've been doing a lot of acting lately.

I steal a glance at Marie before I start munching on my food. She's facing Mike, telling him how it's been a month since they last saw each other face to face. I concur. It's just been the three of us: Vincent, Marie, and I that have been together, especially since we all go to the same college. It was I who stayed with Marie, holding her hand and comforting her as she failed her first Math exam, who went with her to the play they were required to attend for English class, who drove her back home during weekdays.

Exodus 20: 14. You shall not commit adultery.

Was I committing adultery? It's not like Mike and Marie were married. They're just boyfriend and girlfriend. One that'll be ending soon at that. Marie's been the one approaching me. It's not like I was courting her or anything. I can't deny my feelings forever can I? When she mentions how Oasis is the coolest band around, I agree. When she takes out an Anne Rice novel to reread, I remember my own copy at home. We simply get along, and share a lot of common interests. Is that so bad?

Luke 6: 31. Do to others as you would have them do to you.

It's so easy to be like other guys, stealing the girlfriends of other people. But I'm not like that. Mike's a friend after all. That's why I'm waiting for Marie to break up with Mike. That's when I'll court her. Besides, it's Mike who told me I should be selfish from time to time. I'm just following his advice. And to a certain extent, I'm tired of always being the good guy, the person everyone depends on. If what I'm going to do is a sin, hopefully God will forgive me. Because I can't imagine life without Marie. And if Mike's a true friend, he'll understand.

Before I start eating my dinner, I try to catch another glimpse of Marie. I spot Mike's eyes instead.

Matthew 26: 50. …Friend, do what you came for.

I look down, say a quick prayer, and focus on my food.

The burrito's spicier than normal. It burns, but it's so damn good. I take in a second bite, and another. The meal was worth the wait.

-Vincent-

Nothing's happening. Paul's just there, immersing himself with the food that just arrived. Marie, sexy Marie in her green tube top, talking to Mike in low whispers. At least there was no physical contact this time, although Mike did try. His hand reached out to hers, but Marie's fingers remained stiff. He withdrew it soon afterwards.

Most people think I don't notice. Heck, they probably don't notice me. I'm not just a third wheel, I'm a wraith, ignored and taken for granted. I test my theory by standing up and getting out of the table. I murmur that I'm heading for the bathroom. Paul's ears twitch, but no one looks in my direction. Mike's attention seems to be directed only at Marie. As for Marie, I really don't know what's going around in her head.

The restaurant's bathroom is dirty. The faucets are rusting, and the hexagonal tiles are wet with what I presume was piss. I‘m alone, unlike the superficial companionship I had when I was with Marie. This was truth, this was reality.

Marie was Mike's girlfriend. Before Marie graduated from high school, she was already going out with Mike. M&M we called them, Mike and Marie. Mike and Paul, on the other hand, were my friends from high school. Mike used to be my classmate, until he failed Science during our junior year. He was retained, while Paul and I moved on to our senior year.

I was never close to Paul, at least not as close as he and Mike were. During weekends, Paul and Mike would go out to the local arcade and play video games. Or sometimes, Mike would sleep over at Paul's place, browse through each other's comic collection, and top it off with sleepless nights of playing board games and poker. Occasionally, me and some of Paul's classmates would be invited. But it was mostly Mike and Paul. It felt awkward, intruding on their boyish intimacy, but they were the only guys in class who actually invited me to hang out with them. Mike and Paul did most of the talking when I was around, and I'd make the occasional quip or two. Or whenever they needed a different opponent with the video games they played, I'd join in and give them a run for their money.

And then Paul and I graduated from high school, while Mike remained. Marie happened to be attending the same university Paul and I were going to. Mike introduced Marie to Paul earlier, and then Paul introduced me to Marie when we saw her at the college campus.

We pursued different courses, yet we were always together. We were a triumvirate, the Three Musketeers, but the truth of the matter was, it was Paul and Marie, with me being an afterthought. Again.

I'd carpool with Paul to school, and once we parked the car, we'd meet up with Marie. I was usually in front, and the first one to spot her every morning. I'd wave to her and greet her good morning. But the first person she always greeted was Paul. And then they'd hug each other, or sometimes, kiss each other's cheeks, only after which they'd turn their attention to me. Did I get a hug or a kiss? Just a simple wave and hello.

There were times when Paul and I would be together, or Paul and Marie would be alone. But there was never a moment longer than a few seconds when it would just be me and Marie. Whenever I'd talk to Marie, the only real conversation pieces we talked about were our assignments, our unjust professors, and how the next day would be a holiday. I tried talking about the Anne Rice novels which Marie loved to read, but she simply dismissed me as a poseur, and gave me a reading list. End of conversation.

Last month, I suspected there was something going on between Paul and Marie. There were moments when I'd catch them holding each other's hands, or their bodies itching to be closer to each other. There were never any overt signs, no sudden gifts to each other, no kisses, no prolonged body contact, no over-protective or jealous attitudes. But I felt that something was going on.

I was tempted to tell Mike about it, but what would be the result? What if I was wrong? Or worse, if I was right, I'd be labeled as a rat. Besides, I owe Mike nothing. He didn't introduce me to Marie, Paul did. He didn't entrust Marie to me, he entrusted her to Paul, his best friend.

When I came out of the washroom, no one was at the table. There was just the bill, along with the receipt and some change.

-Marie-

Mike was handsome, with his hawk-like nose and gentle eyes that always looked at me. No one paid me as much attention as he did, not even Paul. A year ago, I loved that about him. Now, it's just tiring. I don't want a guy constantly watching over my back. I'm not his property.

-I'm sorry, I'll try to make it work.-

Mike's first mistake. You'll try to make it work? What am I, chopped liver? You always thought of this relationship as yours, not ours. It was always you, you, you.

-Just give me one more chance. I know I can fix it.-

That's what you said the last time. The reason I didn't break up with you back then was because of pity. Your grades plummeted, you even crashed your car into a tree. But I've changed, I've grown… I've discovered someone else.

I wanted to divert my eyes to Paul, to draw strength from him. But I didn't want to give him away either. Instead, I looked down at my hands, and I see the silver bracelet Mike gave me during our first month anniversary. The day he gave it to me, I remember it being shiny and bright, especially the engraving with my name on it. Now, it's dull and lackluster. But it's proof of how long our relationship had endured.

I gaze into Mike's brown eyes, and see what seems to be tears. Not in public! The reason I asked Mike to invite Paul and Vincent along was so that we could avoid making a scene in public. That didn't stop Mike however. And where the hell was Vincent? He was pretty much like Mike nowadays, there when you don't want to see him, but absent when you need him.

At least Paul was still here. My steady rock. The guy who waited for me as I took my three-hour midterm exam in Math. And failed. Paul offered me a smoke, and we talked until we couldn't see the pale moonlight. And when I got two tickets to Mistress of the Inn, a play we were required to watch for English, it was Paul who drove me to the theater, and there we watched the amateur actors act out their roles.

I wrote a letter to Paul when I got home from watching the play, which had moved me to tears. I could imagine myself as the protagonist, searching for love in faraway places, when the man who loved me was nearby. Mike was a suitor, nothing more and nothing less. He made me realize though what I wanted in life, what I really sought. He introduced me to Paul, and for that, I would be eternally grateful. But I couldn't give him my love. The farce needed to stop.

Mike's hand tries to clasp mine once more. I brush it away, and tell him flatly it's over. For some moments, he looks fuzzy. Something seems to have been caught in my eye. Paul suddenly stops eating his food, and turns to look at me. It seems as if everyone's eyes, from the patrons to the waiters to the cook, were on me. I get up, grab my purse, and run.

It was Paul who ran after me. I was surprised that Mike didn't give chase. Did he know?

I'm finally free, but why do I feel doubt?

-Mike-

M&M. The best couple ever. We even have the same birthday.

Yet here I am, picking up the pieces. I get the largest bill I could find in my wallet and give it to the waiter. That pays for tonight's dinner. As for the tickets for tonight's movie, I might as well burn them.

I don't understand what happened. What did I do wrong? Was it something I said?

I wanted to chase after her, but Paul ran first. He gave me a quick glance and hesitated. My eyes probably told him to go, that I didn't want her to see me like this. I fought to hold back my tears. Paul might know how to solve this. There's no one else I trust who'll take care of my girlfriend. He's my best friend, after all, honest and loyal to the bone.

I remember when we were in grade school, and Paul was failing Science. Leo, the smartest kid in class, offered to give Paul the answers to the next exam. I would have taken it just like that. Instead, Paul declined, and told him that he couldn't. It would be cheating. So what, Leo asked. Paul just smiled, and told him he was being a good Christian.

It can be annoying at times, I must admit, but that was a part of Paul you could always depend on. I couldn't invite him to go out for several rounds in a bar, but I could depend on Paul's honesty. Perhaps that's why I chose him to be my best friend. You can't buy trust and sincerity, and Paul had them in spades.

I wonder where Vincent went? He simply disappeared. Vincent's a nice guy as well, but there's just something about him that turns people off. I also dislike his eyes. They're always staring, observing. The looks he gives Marie, it's as if a predator was staring, although Vincent was never threatening.

Marie… my dear Marie. I dial her number, but she didn't answer her mobile phone.

I could always write her a letter, much like the love notes I sent her when she was still studying in high school. This is only a temporary setback, I can fix this.

I have to be stronger, more determined. I was a wreck the last time. I have to prove to Marie that I'm whole, that I can take care of her and our future family.

I'm just grateful that I have friends like Paul to count on.

If you can't depend on your friends, who else can you trust?