I am not a writer.
Yet.
I have said this before readers. But I really do want to become a writer some day.
A great one maybe. Or just an OK one.
Who knows?
With that said, I have started to write my two books.
Yes, two.
My first book is about the Philippines itself and its people. It will be a pictorial book with special essay's written by special Filipinos. I want to focus on the country's hidden treasures, as I know there are many. This includes both people and places. This will be a non- profit project. And all proceeds will go to a Philippines charity. 100%.
The second book will be a auto biography about my life, which I have already been writing for a while. It will be a book about my experience's, including of course my relationship with both the Philippines and DJ Montano. It will take place from the start of my first trip and end when I hand in the first draft.
Everything will be included.
Nothing will be left out.
I will be given a research assistant.
It will be published in Australia or England.
We don't know yet.
I know that I'm not a writer yet, because real writers send me there amazing essay's to read.
And plus, my new bitch editor told me so. Hahahaha.
But she has faith in me and knows I will come up with the goods.
I can hardly criticize other writers (ghosts aside), and suck myself, can I?
My lack of education, is definatley coming back to haunt me.
I finished school at fourteen.
And I know it shows sometimes,
Hahahaha.
So I have been reading dozens of essay's from all over the world, in order to help define my style a bit more.
I know I am ALL over the place readers.
I have to learn as I go.
I am going to be a writer.
One day.
I am also in negotiations with the BBC for a special program on HIV/AIDS and the people who survive and thrive through adversity with the virus.
My story has caught their attention and they are currently putting together an option for it.
It will also be a non- profit venture.
And proceeds from the story and possible film work will also go to a Philippines charity.
I will not see a penny from any of my media. Except my biography. That is a personal book I have wanted to write for many years.
I am well into it already.
I am blown away at the brilliance in the Philippines.
Both the good and the bad brilliance.
My friends around the world who read my blog, and communicate with me on a daily basis, are also blown away by the conversation this blog has started.
I have always known that the Filipino race is special.
Because of my Filipina queen and her family.
I am NOT dragging the Philippines down as some radicals are suggesting.
That's absolute rubbish.
In fact, I am enhancing it in many ways.
Pushing those parameters further away from what is wrong.
Obviously people who disagree with my blog are seeing it through a different pair of eyes.
And I'm OK with that now.
That's why I get so upset when people question my motives and passion for the country.
At the end of the day, I know how much I love and care for your cluster of islands.
I was born on an island.
Raised on one.
I moved to the largest island in the world, and grew up.
I moved to the Philippines because of the gravitational pull towards your islands.
Its all about islands.
Go Boracay!
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I have been sent a piece of writing today that I thought was great.
I wish I could write like this guy.
His vocabulary is wonderful.
And his turn of phrase admirable.
I e mailed him, and asked him if I could print his article in my blog.
I thought this article was interesting to say the least.
The writer's article contains the name of someone in Manila who I like very much.
I mention her because of her brilliant articles in Metro Society.
I have mentioned her in my blog many times as she is a true supporter.
Constance Brooke Pendleton.
And I am absolutely sure, there is too sides to this story. I hope there is.
I am positive she will have an explanation for this.
If anyone was actually called poor at this gathering,
And whoever said it should be strung up by his balls in the middle of the island.
Enough said.
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Pendletom; Your Clique Hit The Roof
My visit to Boracay last week was, if I may say, rather enlightening. With the warm Bora sun peering through the clear afternoon sky, I decided to walk the eight kilometer stretch of the island with my good buddy Raul J. Teehankee. The cerulean waves gently lapping on Bora’s pristine white sands made our repartee oddly heartening (everyone acquainted with us knows how off-putting we can be to each other, but of course this is just carino brutal on our part).
Indeed this island paradise can do mysterious things!
The beautiful backdrop along the powdery shores during our lengthy saunter helped make the trek an effortless one. Quite dehydrated, however, after our journey, we ended up in a hotel’s watering hole somewhere in Station 1. This delectable pitstop happens to be owned by a good friend of ours from Los Angeles. He generously offered us a drink and Mojitosnt> became our choice of intoxicating nectar. Concocted to fabulous perfection, the much-needed libation gave us a lugubrious buzz to cap off our excursion.
Conversation ensued and soon our chat shifted from one topic to another until we ended up discussing the articles written by a glossy contributor, Constance Brooke Pendelton. Tongue in cheek, this writer remarkably yet not-so-bravely (since his John Hancock is but a mere penname) chronicled the “ills” of “high society”; exposés were indeed an eye-opener for some and a bitter slap in the face to those affected by them.
Personally, I think he did the Lord’s work in his articles; a mordant instrument of social change.
My comrades and I were all praises for Constance Brooke Pendelton’s commentaries, until a flustering episode took place after our second round of drinks. Lo and behold, Pendelton’s clique showed-up - loud, definitely intoxicated and slurring in incoherent Spanglopino (broken Spanish, English and Filipino). The whole episode was pitifully gauche for these so-called “socialites” as they proceeded to our table and intruded our conversation. Nonetheless, they were quite entertaining at first so we decided to tolerate their monkeyshines.
Their theatrical spectacle straight from Rizal’s El Filibusterismo unbelievably flashed through our eye sockets; the two male Dona Victorinas began a supercilious banter of unctuous sycophancy which was a failed mimicry of the illustrados of yore; their conversation filled with anti-poor innuendos.
Pendelton’s skipper then made beso beso to Raul Teehankee and then to me. Suffering his artificial terms of endearment, I cinched a smile in gratitude but at this point we really wanted them to leave our table already. Still slurring in Spanglopino, the aged silver-fox pointed his finger to my friend Raul T. and said; “YOU’RE POOR!” Then he fixed his ominous gaze at me and repeated the same. Later, the two aged Victorinas began to brag about their fat pay-checks for every “proletariat” to hear.
GEEZ! At this point, we just had enough of their shenanigans and incendiary malice toward the downtrodden, and so, we said our goodbyes to our friend from L.A. I told him that he should be thankful for having so many “big spenders” in his luxurious hotel. He nodded and smirked but could not mouth me an answer. WTF! Words were not needed, I could read his mind – at least he could expect a “favorable” write up in the glossy pages sometime soon from that particular clique. As Kris would say, “Deal or No Deal!”
Ah, so much for the class Nouveauxont pauvres!
In the final analysis, how can a social poseur maintain an extravagant lifestyle with the mere income of an artisan? They become COLUMNISTS, baby!
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FOR YOUR INFORMATION READERS:
Raul Teehankee is a good guy living a very simple (poor) lifestyle.
He is the son of the former Chief Justice of the Philippines, Claudio Teehankee.
He is very-very distantly related to PEPPER of GG.
FYI.
