2018 AWP Bookfair, Tampa, FL
Found these copies of self’s third short story collection in the National Bookstore in Gateway Mall, Cubao, Metro-Manila! (January 2018)
Such a beautiful cover! POTOMAC REVIEW 59
Some of Self’s Publications, For Students Who Ask
February 1, 2019 at 3:56 pm (anthologies, Artists and Writers, Books, Filipino Writers, Personal Bookshelf, short story collections, Women Writers, Writing)
Tags: Bellingham Review, Fridays, Literary Magazines, Manila Noir, Potomac Review, teaching, The Lost Language
“Desire” Part 7
June 10, 2018 at 8:34 pm (anthologies, Artists and Writers, Books, Conversations, Filipino Writers, Personal Bookshelf, Places, Sundays, Women Writers, Writing)
Tags: Desire, Manila, Manila Noir, short story, The Philippines
The manager of the boardinghouse paced the lobby, throwing curses right and left. His wife, who was in charge of the kitchen, moaned Dios mio, Dios mio. One couldn’t have asked about breakfast at such a time. Epifanio wandered the streets, willing himself into exhaustion.
Eventually, he found himself on the street with the bar. He felt like sinking down on the pavement, but looked in disgust at the gobs of spit that formed a dense pattern by the gutters. When the woman finally came out, she seemed to be looking for him. Her eyes found him, and he sensed the invitation and longing. He came forward.
“What’s your name?” he asked. He spoke very softly, hoarse with fear and desire.
“Honey,” she said, smiling. “What’s yours?”
He shook his head and paused. Then he decided that she deserved to know at least this about him: “Epifanio,” he said.
She kept smiling. She leaned against him. He could feel her small breasts, pressed against his chest. He raised his right arm to circle her waist.
“You like me?” she whispered.
He nodded. From his pocket, he pulled out all the money he had. She grabbed the bills eagerly and started to count. Then she said, “You rich? Did you really mean to offer this much?”
He didn’t even know how much he had in his pocket. When did he get the money? This morning? He saw the eyes of the dead man. He staunched the memory.
“Yes, I meant to offer that much,” he asserted. He felt manly now. Strong.
Honey laughed. “You can have me the whole night,” she said.
Epifanio nodded. She drew him inside.
THE END
“Desire” Part 6
June 7, 2018 at 5:39 pm (anthologies, Books, Conversations, Filipino Writers, Personal Bookshelf, Places, Women Writers, Writing)
Tags: Akashic, Manila, Manila Noir, short story, The Philippines
Epifanio walked quickly away, his thin shoulders hunched up and his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.
Epifanio easily found the bar again two nights later. There was some kind of program going on: he listened to a man reciting lewd jokes into a microphone. The bar seemed full: the laughs were raucous. A young woman kept going in, out, in, out. She was not pretty. She wore a tight, silvery blouse that emphasized her breasts, her slim waist. Only after she had gone back and forth several times did it dawn on Epifanio that she was aware of him, that she was interested in him. She stood on the sidewalk, peering down the street as if looking for someone. He watched her turn, this way and that. She wore gold sandals; her toenails were painted bright red. Because she was taking her time about going back inside, Epifanio was sure: she wanted him! But he could do nothing, only stand and stare.
She came out a third time and stood on the sidewalk. Her lips seemed brighter. No one else was on the street, or in the world: there was only the girl, and Epifanio, and an aching need.
She turned in a slow semicircle. She seemed to be urging him on, trying to rouse him to some form of action.
When she had executed every possible movement, she turned and walked slowly back to the bar. She held her head high, but Epifanio could sense her disappointment. He had saved her, or himself, he didn’t know which.
***
The city had always existed in his head. It was his last remaining opportunity, the one he would run to when everything else had failed, his last card. He didn’t want to be playing that card so soon, but he found the situation with Sheryn unbearable. So, like a gambler, he had played it.
Epifanio went to see Sheryn one last time before leaving. Her eyes were puffy and red. She grazed his cheek with the tips of her fingers. “Silly,” she said softly. “Silly, silly.” Epifanio’s gaze traveled to her stomach, the roundness there. That was when she pulled away, both hands over her belly as if protecting it. “Please go.”
He left.
***
The men’s breakfast was provided by the boardinghouse. For lunch and dinner, however, they spent their own meager funds. Someone said that the food stalls near the bus terminals had the cheapest food. The pork barbecue, dripping with fat, was ten pesos a stick.
For the past week, he had subsisted on a meager breakfast of two thin sausages, an egg, and a small pyramid of rice. By noon, he was faint. By dinnertime, he was angry. But he found a way to endure the hunger; he had no choice.
(To be continued. For a short short story of approximately nine pages, dear blog readers are probably thinking, why is it taking sooooo long to get to the point? GAAH!!! Get a move on, Epifanio!)
“Desire” Part 5
June 4, 2018 at 11:57 pm (anthologies, Artists and Writers, Books, Filipino Writers, Personal Bookshelf, short story collections, Women Writers, Writing)
Tags: Manila, Manila Noir, Mondays, short story, The Philippines
A disagreeable man has just been murdered.
Epifanio, the main character, finds himself thinking of a lost sweetheart named Sheryn.
Had to edit out some sections to avoid trigger warnings. Whew! It is hard work typing everything.
She also had a more winning manner, a more inviting style.
She had not exactly been a closed door. That, at least, was the implication of the smirk that had accompanied the dead man’s comment about “morning sickness.”
But — was he really dead? What if he had merely been wounded, and the ambulance had rescued him in time? What if, even now, he was lying some hospital, with a drip affixed to one arm?
Was he the father of the young woman’s baby? Epifanio was surprised at the despair that accompanied this thought.
To hold a woman, any woman — to know the warmth of a woman’s embrace.
Epifanio’s parents had loved each other with a purity and single-mindedness that he had tried to emulate. But the ferocity of Sheryn’s desire had unmanned him. They had been classmates in high school but Epifanio never dreamed of courting her. Then, one day in October, right in the middle of the Masskara Festival, she came up to him in the plaza. Her tone was teasing. “Do you want me? O, tilawi!” Try me.
Their first time together: she had grabbed him and drawn him close. She had called up his courage. She had luxuriated in his desire.
After, when Epifanio and Sheryn encountered each other on the street, they feigned aloofness. Her family was not rich, but they were better off than Epifanio’s; his father eked out a hard living as a fisherman. Epifanio had done many things: he had been a tricycle driver. A waiter. A traffic enforcer. Sheryn had graduated from college, whereas Epifanio had dropped out after two years. She worked as a bank teller, and wore nice clothes to work. Still, Sheryn wanted him! When they caught each other’s eyes, they smiled surreptitiously, like conspirators.
Then, disaster: I am carrying your child, she whispered. The future shrank to the width of one hand. Her desire withered. There was a new, hard determination in her face. He talked of marriage; she said, Wait.
***
Sheryn’s voice was strong near the bar. A sign said, Deep and Deeper. Epifanio had passed it before, had noticed the women going in and out. They wore tight clothes, they walked languorously, aware that men were watching.
Epifanio lurked, throwing quick glances at the door. A tall man with a smooth-shaven head and tattoos running down both forearms stood just inside, where he might easily have been mistaken for a shadow. He uttered a warning and made a derisive gesture with his hand.
(To be continued)
“Desire” Part 4
June 4, 2018 at 5:40 pm (anthologies, Artists and Writers, Books, Conversations, Filipino Writers, Personal Bookshelf, Women Writers, Writing)
Tags: Manila, Manila Noir, short story, The Philippines
Wrote this story for Jessica Hagedorn’s anthology Manila Noir. It’s a wonder what you can do if the opportunity presents itself!
I’ve been posting in sections. There was a post earlier today.
He remembered going there with her, the taste of the small, tart fruit in her mouth, and then his.
Epifanio was not physically strong. He was a rather small man, with a slim waist. His forearms were corded from years from having worked as a welder at the sugar plant in Victorias. Six months earlier he had been let go. The foreman refused to give him a reason.
To dream! Ah yes, he had dared to dream. The news spread quickly in the town. He slunk along the seafront, downing bottle after bottle of Ginebra. When he next saw Sheryn, it was on the arm of another man. There was only the smallest hint of a bulge, beneath her waist. Only someone looking for it would have noticed.
Julio was tall and fair-skinned. He spoke good English. He worked in the business office of L’Fisher Hotel, one of the best hotels in Bacolod.
Epifanio’s eyes reddened. My child! he thought. Mine! Mine! Mine!
Was Epifanio sorry about the fate of the smirking man? Naturally, yes. But he was also a little tense. Epifanio had disliked the man; it was this that made the guilt grow. Could his thoughts have somehow assumed a walking shape and descended from the room to the first floor, where the smirking man sat nodding off behind the desk in the small office?
Was Epifanio interested in the young woman because she reminded him of Sheryn? They had the same kind of hair: long and shiny, a treasure of fragrance. Sheryn was a little shorter.
(To be continued)
“Desire” Part 3
June 4, 2018 at 2:27 pm (anthologies, Conversations, Filipino Writers, Personal Bookshelf, Places, short story collections, Women Writers, Writing)
Tags: Manila, Manila Noir, Mondays, short story, The Philippines
from a story published in Manila Noir, edited by Jessica Hagedorn (Akashic Books). Self will post the entire thing, in installments. This is the third posting:
Gonzago gestured, his right arm driving cleanly through the air.
Only then did Epifanio realize that the floor of the Lobby was covered with the same dark substance that stained the soles of his sneakers. It was everywhere. There was even some of it smeared across one of the lobby’s light blue walls. He saw what might have been a handprint.
Spit was collecting at the back of Epifanio’s mouth. He managed to ask, “Who found him?”
*****
Sheryn said, “I’m in love with Julio. He will make a better father for my child.” Epifanio closed his eyes. When he opened them again, everyone but Gonzago had left. Gonzago was chuckling to himself. “Eh?” The police ask so many questions. But all the wrong ones.”
Epifanio turned from him and walked out the door.
“Eh?” Gonzago called after him. “No one is supposed to leave. The police are still taking statements.”
Epifanio kept going. The street began less than a yard away. There was almost no sidewalk to speak of. There were spit stains on the buckling sidewalk, and horrendous smells. Banana peels, empty soda bottles, scraps of paper all formed a clotted mess in the gutters.
God is love. God is love. God is love. Epifanio trembled: Sheryn’s pet mynah bird knew only this one sentence. Every time Epifanio called on her, the bird would direct a baleful glance at him and begin its monotonous chant.
There was a small of cherisa trees behind Sheryn’s house.
(To be cont.)
Desire (Cont.): from MANILA NOIR
May 31, 2018 at 2:57 pm (anthologies, Artists and Writers, Conversations, Filipino Writers, Women Writers, Writing)
Tags: Manila, Manila Noir, short story, The Philippines
He thought he heard the policeman say, Ngunit — but — and then, “mga estudyante.” Epifanio did not want to listen anymore and turned away.
He found a few of the men gathered by the front door, whispering urgently to one another. Epifanio forced himself to approach.
As he took a step forward, and then another, he felt a slickness on his shoes. He looked down, and dully noted that something dark seemed to have smeared the soles of the sneakers that were practically brand new, bought from Gaisano Mall the day before he left Bacolod. He didn’t understand. His thoughts were slow. Perhaps that was Sheryn’s laugh he had heard, ringing in his head when he reached the urgently whispering men.
“Epifanio?” said Benedicto, the big man from Murcia. “Did anyone tell you what happened?”
Sheryn’s laugh was almost ear-splitting. The day was just beginning, but already he detested and feared it.
“Gonzago here thinks he heard something,” said another man, the one Epifanio knew only as Baby. Epifanio had heard some of the men gossipping about Baby. It was strange: he had angered his in-laws by slapping his wife, and they had made it impossible for him to remain in his own home, constantly abusing Baby in front of his own children.
Gonzago was old, almost forty. Everyone knew he roamed the halls in his sleep.
“If I did hear something,” Gonzago said, “it wouldn’t have helped. I might have heard this man’s soul leaving his body, yes. It sounded like water slipping down a riverbank.” Gonzago gestured, his right arm driving cleanly through the air.
Only then did Gonzago realize that the floor of the lobby was covered with the same dark substance that stained the soles of his sneakers. It was everywhere. There was even some of it smeared across one of the lobby’s light blue walls.
(To be cont.)
“Desire” in MANILA NOIR (Akashic Books)
May 31, 2018 at 4:22 am (Artists and Writers, Conversations, Filipino Writers, short story collections, Women Writers, Writing)
Tags: Desire, Manila, Manila Noir, short story, The Philippines
The story hardly made a ripple. But it’s more important to self that it be read. So, she’s going to post it on this blog, in sections. Here’s section 1. The setting is Ermita, which is an older neighborhood of Manila.
She wrote this story in one go, to meet a deadline. She’s expert at writing things in one go. That is why flash is her little playground. This story is a bit longer than her usual.
The Assignment: to write something noir. Her stories are noir but she never had to decide they would be noir before writing. So, this story was an experiment (as the publishing here, in sections, is an experiment)
DESIRE
by Marianne Villanueva
Which parts of a bird are edible?
Epifanio did not know.
He would guess. Yes, he could do that. Not the internal organs. Not the beak. Not the feathers.
He wrote, laboriously: eyes, tail, breast.
Afterward, when they were gathered in the small lobby, they were offered warm Coke in thick glasses, no ice.
Why would anyone ask them a question about birds? They were there to study to be seamen: most of them were from Negros, like Epifanio. The rest were from Marinduque, Zambales, Cagayan de Oro, Davao. After two years on one of the inter-island ferries, and provided they received good evaluations, they might get the chance to work on one of the cruise ships that went to Hong Kong and Singapore. Epifanio clung to this hope.
He liked the young woman who had been waiting to greet them the day they arrived in Manila, but there was no sign of her the next day, or the next. By the third day, he began to notice a fat man who sat in a little room on the first floor. The room had desks and filing cabinets, like a regular office. Epifanio learned later that the man’s name was Leandro.
Epifanio pretended that the young woman had kindly shared with him a tube of toothpaste and he wanted to repay her. “Is she coming back?” he asked.
The man smirked. “She’s sick. Morning sickness. What’s your name again?” Epifanio gave his name. The man gazed down at a sheet divided into two columns.
“From Bacolod,” he said, and smirked again.
“Silay,” Epifanio said. And he thought: I have been to college. I have had two years in San Agustin. And you — ! He lowered his gaze and shrugged and gave a self-deprecating smile.
When Epifanio later replayed the conversation in his head, he hated the way Leandro seemed to know instinctively what Epifanio was after. And Leandro’s smirk would return again and again to his memory.
The rules of being a seaman: The shared toilets must be cleaned and ready for inspection at five a.m. When a passenger requests assistance, the seaman must smile and show his willingness to be of service. Even the most unreasonable guest will appreciate a smile.
Manila, this teeming city, pressed on him: dense, impenetrable. The sounds were many and various and ill-tempered. They abated only a little, towards dawn. His eyes were heavy from his dreams. Sheryn, I love you, he would dream himself saying aloud. In the dream she always laughed, as if she could hear him speaking, even across so many islands. I love you, I love you, I love you, he would say, his fists clutching the sides of the thin mattress.
On the sixth day, there was no one in the little office. Papers were scattered on the floor. The filing cabinet drawers hung open. The desk had been overturned. A policeman stood by a window, speaking into a cell phone.
Epifanio stared.
(To be continued)
MANILA NOIR: “Desire”
February 8, 2018 at 7:34 pm (anthologies, Artists and Writers, Books, Filipino Writers, Personal Bookshelf, Places, Publishers, Recommended, short story collections, Women Writers, Writing)
Tags: Akashic, Manila, Manila Noir, short story, The Philippines
Manila Noir was edited by Jessica Hagedorn and published by Akashic Books in 2013.
Hagedorn wanted a brand-new story, so self wrote her one, which she titled “Desire.”
“Desire” can be found in Part III (“They Live by Night”) of the anthology. The story’s setting is Ermita.
What parts of a bird are edible?
Epifanio did not know. He would guess: eyes, tail, breast.
Afterward, when they were all gathered in the small lobby, they were offered warm Coke in thick glasses, no ice.
Why would anyone ask them a question about birds? They were there to study to be seamen: most of them were from Negros, like Epifanio. The rest were from Marinduque, Zambales, Cagayan de Oro, Davao.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
Busy Bee
September 23, 2014 at 5:22 pm (anthologies, Artists and Writers, Books, Links, Publishers, Recommended, Women Writers, Writing)
Tags: Filipino writers, Manila Noir, plans, Readings, writing process
Self is extremely, extremely happy this morning. She was able to wheedle a reading date from her local library for Manila Noir, an anthology that Akashic published last year, and for which she has never given a reading.
She’s only one of — ehem — 15 Filipino writers in the book, it was edited by Superstar Jessica Hagedorn, she loves the pieces in it to bits. Why has she never read for it in her own neck of the woods? OMG, why?
She wrote a brand new story, just for the anthology. Yup, one winter holiday, almost three years ago, La Hagedorn requested a story from self, and after wringing her hands for nearly a month, and subjecting herself to all sorts of angsty emo feelings, self ended the pity party, grit her teeth, addressed the problem (which had been hovering over her head, a veritable Sword of Damocles, making her incapable of performing even the simplest holiday tasks, such as setting up the Christmas tree) and that very same day, she came up with a story. Turned it in. Got quick thumbs up from Hagedorn. Became pride-ful and slothful. Told the world of her inclusion in said anthology. Crowed about her triumph in her little corner of the world, and then waited for — NOTHING. Everyone in the Philippines and Asia and even the continental U.S. of A. read the anthology, but her story was sandwiched between such greats that no one seemed to have time to comment on it. Nevertheless, nevertheless . . .
She did manage to get Lysley Tenorio (a fellow alum from Stanford’s Creative Writing Program, he teaches at Saint Mary’s in Moraga) to agree to read with her. Quite a feat, as the guy’s got a big agent, a big publisher, and he agreed to make the trek to REDWOOD CITY. And besides, self isn’t sure whether she still can read, it’s been a while. So it is good if Lysley reads with her, for he is an excellent reader. And not only that, he is affable and very used to signing author copies.
Now, since self is so energized, she is thinking of contacting other places, such as Books, Inc. in Town & Country. Hello, they already carry it; she’s seen it there, in their Mystery section. So, what’s the problem, self? What’s taking you so long? Get off your couch and who says you can’t? Get yourself over to Book Passage, while you’re at it.
Johanna Ingalls, Managing Editor of Akashic Books, at the 2013 Miami International Book Festival, holding up MANILA NOIR: Self is one of the contributors.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
