But such efforts are never in vain. Somehow the torch is passed, and yet another bold venture surfaces soon enough. Eventually we realize that what matters is the apparent continuum – however irregularly linked the chain – involving such independent, underfunded productions.
The spirit behind the leap of faith lives on. Producers of literary journals, zines and anthologies continue to manifest the courage of conviction. We remember all too well, however, how even well-funded publications run out of luck and/or pluck, and bid early farewells.
Six years ago there was the glossy, full-color Chimera: Voices, Tales & Visions, that was reputedly funded by a former stalwart of the Aquino government. Two issues later and poof went the incarnation.
Subsequently, in the late ’90s, the literary community turned all agog over Pen & Ink, which featured fine black-and-white photography and impeccable taste in design as well as anthology choices. Six or seven issues spread out over two or three years saw a reliable funding, advertising, marketing and distribution effort, until it too joined the common grave of literary journals.
Those issues remain collectors’ items, just like the increasingly endangered remaining copies of Manila Review, Baltazar, The Manila Paper, Ermita, Caracoa: The Poetry Journal of the Philippine Literary Arts Council, and Mithi, the occasional journal published by UMPIL or Writers Union of the Philippines.
Quite recently, about a year ago, a national daily funded Musa, in magazine format and projected to be a monthly. We have kept the two issues that we received, before editorial infighting reportedly doomed the venture.
The succession of ephemera only proves that neither initial capital funding nor editorial talent can suffice to keep a literary – or whatever regular publication, for that matter – afloat. Time and destiny alone pronounce the verdict on such brave ventures.
Come to think of it, we shouldn’t be too quick to include Caracoa and Mithi as among the cadavers. Safer to say that these remain moribund rather than having gone defunct. Caracoa has lasted the longest, after all, at all of 27 issues from 1984 to 1998. And who knows, it might do a Lazarus anew once PLAC gets its act together again. For that matter, MITHI can also see a revival, should UMPIL acquire the seasonal blessing of funding.
As for the spawn of desktop publishing such as what NG represented, we’re happy to report that at least a couple of similar, youth-reliant publications have come to fore.
A year ago we were handed a copy (read: photocopy; 32 stapled pages) by the literary collector AFV Serrano of what is now Likhaan: the U.P. Institute of Creative Writing, of anhedonia, produced by a "Conclave" of young writers who not too unabashedly billed themselves as "clumsy souls." Nothing clumsy about the effort: prose and poetry in Filipino and English were enhanced by photos and illustrations. One of the promising young fictionists represented, Karl de Mesa, we knew from the Dumaguete workshop. The Diliman-based folio we have at hand is billed as Issue No. 3. We wonder now if there had been a No. 1 and/or 2, or a follow-up affair as No. 4.
A Christmas present from the very young and rather precocious poet Angelo Suarez, who heads the Thomasian Writers Guild, consisted of the first two issues of Palabok, a similarly photocopied folio of fresh literary output. The bilingual editions, which are supposed to come out every two months as the guild’s official publication, carried highly supportive, back-cover blurbs from notable writers such as J. Neil C. Garcia and Ramil Digal Gulle for the pilot issue, and Jose Wendell P. Capili and D.M. Reyes for the second. Among the familiar bylines represented are Ken. T. Ishikawa, Allan Pastrana, Natasha B. Gamalinda, J.R. Moll, Suarez and Gulle.
Since Palabok presumably gets some funding from the Pontifical U., we can presume further that no early demise is imminent. Oh, no, not if Mother Hen, er, Earth, Ophie Dimalanta can help it. The fate of any literary venture by her perpetual brood can only be said to be in good loving hands.
Now here’s another venture that’s cheerily seeking the light of day. Hold your breaths: it’s called FPJ. That’s for Free Poetry Junction, a marvelous brainchild of Jojo de Veyra, or as his formal byline as a poet goes, Vicente Soria de Veyra.
Jojo has this ingenious notion that poetry books by individual authors can actually be distributed free, initially among the yuppie crowds that daily gather at Metro Manila’s hundreds of coffee shops, and thus ensure broad pass-on readership.
The idea is to secure advertising support for the monthly output. Anywhere from eight to a dozen regular page advertisers would guarantee a full year’s produce, at something like a hefty 6,000 copies each. The authors will be guaranteed an outright fee rather than have to wait for royalties. Account executives of advertising outfits can also assure themselves of high-percentage commissions.
Fellow PLAC member Marne Kilates and I have met with Jojo to help refine the idea and get the ball rolling. For starters, we’ve come up with a possible roster of poets in English that’s a mix of the up-and-coming and a few established names. These include Alma Anonas, Angelo Suarez, Clovis Nazareno, Victor Jose Peñaranda, Triccia David, Anna Bernaldo, Marc Escalon Gaba, Jeneen Garcia, Naya Valdellon, Paolo Manalo, and, ehem, RayVi Sunico and Cirilo F. Bautista.
Well, those are the names we’ve drawn up; most of them haven’t even heard of this commendable project. But it’s a great line-up, with eight of the twelve still to see their first poetry collections. These eight we deem to be among the most outstanding of our young poets.
To serve in the editorial board are Jimmy Abad, Pete Lacaba, Kilates, Bautista, and yours truly. Again, Cirilo doesn’t know it yet; perhaps neither does Pete. But we can’t expect these two formidable warriors of the word to pass up on any chance to help young poets along.
Jojo de Veyra has prepared impressive media kits for FPJ – the Free Poetry Junction books to be distributed monthly, as attended by promotional highlights such as readings by the poets. Café klatches would be thrilled to see and hear Anonas, David, Bernaldo, Garcia and Valdellon. Suarez is no klutz as a performer, while Gaba projects intensity, and of course Manalo, apart from being the Philippines Free Press literary editor, is our latest Palanca first-prize winner for poetry. Peñaranda, Nazareno, Sunico and Bautista have all authored previous collections, among the most notable of our time. They are needed as ballast, rudder, main mast and sail, irrespectively, in this pioneering venture.
We’ve consulted top guns in the ad industry regarding this project, and the word from both Gil Yuzon and Cid Reyes has been encouraging, despite the acknowledged downturn in the economy, and necessarily, advertising budgets.
We’ve been told, however, that our best bet is to approach clients directly. Okay. Calling on Wilson Lee Flores: Please get us an audience with Tito Lucio. Then again we hope to convince Tony Boy and Manny, given the chance, to help support this whole-year effort for 2003.
Since we’re supposed to refocus our energies from politics to something more noble, alright then, why not take a chance on poetry on a monthly basis? Boss Danding, can you lend a hand, please? Kuya Ronnie, pakitulong na rin sa pagkumbinse sa SMB. Okey lang ang mga bandang musikero, pero okey din ang mga makata, o di bala?
While we’re at it, Tita Emily, howzabout helping out with Jollibee on the back cover? Mr. Rey David of Great Wall, Mr. David Guerrero of BBDO, howzabout it for old times’ sake? Let’s help pull this off together.
By the way, no percentage of the proceeds will go to the editorial board, while hardly anything may be left over for the genius of a conceptualizer and moving spirit (take a bow, Jojo). We agreed to turn over any leftover gains to the Creative Writing Foundation, Inc. (CWF), which helps maintain the National Writers Workshop conducted every summer in Dumaguete under the directorship of National Artist for Literature Edith L. Tiempo.
C’mon, let’s all free up our current accounts and contemporary verses. Onward with FPJ!