writing – Page 34 – Eliza Victoria

early reviews for “Salot”

The story won’t advertise itself (it certainly won’t put on a glittery dress and a feather boa and strut its stuff for more readers) so I posted the Demons of the New Year link at the LJ comm ontdcreepy (it got the LJ spotlight some weeks back). Some of the members were kind enough to leave comments about my story:

of course, I had to sit here and read at least yours before starting the day. I loved this! I particularly loved how you ended it, and I won’t say anything more along those lines so as not to spoil it for anyone else. You’re an amazing writer! :-D (dark_sinestra)

Wow! Loved it…you really have a way with words. :) (chromachord)

I love your writing style! You’re certainly very talented. The story had a very dreamy, almost nightmarish tone, and you balanced the narrator’s skepticism and half-belief very well. Amazing. (rtuko)

Thanks, guys!

If you want to read my story, come on over. (Edit: I forgot to say – this story’s based on a personal experience Almi related to me one slow day at the office. I first encountered the “salot” imagery in an article about diseases during the American occupation. I believe it was by Gilda Cordero-Fernando, let me go check. I have used it in my story “Reunion”, which appeared in the Philippines Free Press, and in the prose poem “Dreams After the Storm”, which appeared in the Ruin/Resolve charity anthology.)

If you have an LJ account, you can add me. My LJ blog’s called blissery blogs.

Feel free to share the link to the e-anthology. Orayt! :D

demons

The e-anthology “Demons of the New Year” is now live! (-live -live)

From Karl de Mesa’s introduction:

From the traditional bestiary of underworld nasties literally knocking on our door (Eliza Victoria’s “Salot”) to the breed that’s bent on inciting us to sell our souls (Rommel Santos’s “Best Served Cold”), up to the very 2000s variety of whispering devils that motivate us to go walking through the urban abyss unarmed (Don Jaucian’s prosaic “Different Degrees of Night”), or the flimsy reasons that incite us to perpetrate vile things upon our kind (Marguerite Alcazaraen De Leon’s “K-10 Mushroom”). All of them, their name is demon.

The stories are here. My story is here. Enjoy!

new story

I just heard from Lit Ed Sarge Lacuesta that my story “Sand, Crushed Shells, Chicken Feathers” will be appearing in the March 22 issue of the Philippines Free Press. Based in part on my grandmother’s witchcraft stories, and in part on a drug addiction docu I saw some years ago. (Yes you read that right.) Do buy a copy! :)

* * *

I wasn’t able to attend the Gaiman event (work and all), but hey congrats to the winners! Rocket Kapre’s got a partial winner list here. Here’s a full list from Bibliophile Stalker.

I felt bad for Manix’s disqualification. I mean, Fully Booked did take a looooong time to announce the winners.

But anyway.

temporal

I get bored a lot lately. I’m struggling with this story I’m trying to finish – I’d write continuously and just hit a brick wall. It’s infuriating. But then – Lent is coming, which means more time to sleep and be with the family in Bulacan. More time to write. Also, the boyfriend and I are celebrating five months today. That doesn’t sound too bad.

And I found this poem! Stunning. Boredom brings great things. Sometimes.

Source.

New York City as Temporal Measurement*

* This is not to be confused with the smallest measurement of time.

Hossannah Asuncion

______

Policy mandates a period of 30 seconds for subway doors to remain open to allow for the flush of entering and exiting people. An observational study has shown, though, that the doors remain open an average of 12 seconds. This is enough time for two people in love to separate, but as was one instance on May 18, 2007, it is not enough time to reunite.

______

You know you are close to the end when your train pulls into the station with droplets of rain clinging to its sides.

______

Ways we successfully pass time from Manhattan to Queens, Queens to Brooklyn, Brooklyn to Brooklyn:

The NYT crossword puzzle (Wednesday).

Cat Power’s rendition of “Silver Stallion.” (Repeat as necessary.)

A game of “Who would you eat? Who would you fuck?”

If, by chance, you have a moment to love something, anything, with heartbreak, choose
to do so. Exercise, though, what is advised and advised and advised as caution—
consider the consequences of such seconds.

______

Tapping the face of your father’s watch will not stop you from disappointing him today. You will do so again tomorrow. And the day after.

______

a poem for your thoughts

Photo from Tumblr. She’s pretty eee. ♥

Stressing over not writing (as in, Oh my god why am I not writing) is starting to become…stressful, and so I’ll stop worrying about it for now. I’m taking a break! I’ll watch DVDs! And eat! A lot! Read books and think and be peaceful. Lovely. Lovely plan.

Here, read a beautiful poem from Dora Malech while I gather my wits.

Source.

Let Me Explain
by Dora Malech

Spring, and the tulips urged me
stick to schedule, flower furiously.
I asked for mountains but settled
for some flood-buckled linoleum.
Air was the only sure thing
and even she put up a fight.
I called my eyes near-sighted,
my hands near misses, my arms
close calls, my face old hat,
my head a bluff and raised
my body, a wishing machine.
Stars, thanked. Days, numbered.
I wore a coat because you can’t trust
weather and I looked like rain.

eviction, and a beautiful finish to february

Full disclosure: I used to live in Unit 8H-B in Kingswood Condominium here in Makati. The unit’s caretakers were Julius Villareal and a woman named Icy, possibly his girlfriend. Right now, I’m hoping they’ll suffer from diarrhea for the rest of their lives. And I’m being very nice here.

* * *

Here’s what happened:

I came home from work on Feb. 24 and found two of my flatmates/unitmates in the living room. One said, “There’s a new development!” There’s always a new development, with Julius and Icy as caretakers – the ref breaks down, the kitchen sink floods the floor, cable TV gets disconnected, and they don’t answer your calls. Such an efficient couple, Julius and Icy.

But this new development, as it turned out, was crazy. Like, you-can’t-make-this-shit-up crazy. Julius and Icy, according to one of the guards of the condo (bless him for warning us), have not been paying the unit’s utility bills and condo dues for three months now, and so Admin, possibly as ordered by the unit owners, had began padlocking the units they were handling. One group renting one of the units came home from work one night and just found their unit padlocked. Their stuff were inside. Luckily the unit owner lives in the building, so they were able to talk to the guy, have the door opened, and collect their things. But if the owner was not in the building, and you didn’t know the owner’s contact details, where will you go?

We decided to confront Icy. We knew she and Julius lived in the building, 12D-A, and I was just looking forward to screaming at her. We asked the guard, and oh yes, their unit had been padlocked. They don’t live in the building anymore. We couldn’t contact their phones.

The plan: Talk to the unit owner. We didn’t know his number so I had to go to Marketing the next day and try to contact him from there.

Of course we panicked. I couldn’t sleep that night. The next morning, one of my flatmates was able to contact the caretaker of a unit which had a room good for four, had an AC, and had its own bathroom. We viewed it that morning. Turned out the caretaker knew all the shenanigans Julius and Icy had been doing. Those fuckers. The guards downstairs were already cautioning us to at least have our stuff moved to another unit, if we had a friend in the building. We wouldn’t be issued gate passes, so we couldn’t move appliances out of the building, even if we owned them. Including laptops.

It is safe to say that the stress level by then was extremely high.

We decided to rent the room and move in that day.

So I hauled ass, you know. I was able to move everything except my collages on my wall. My collages! I used crazy-sticky tape because I thought – well, I thought I’d be staying in that room for a long time.

Of course I had to do the security deposit + advance thing all over again, but it’s okay. Julius and Icy I think owes me a month’s worth of deposit, unless they’ve deducted all the excess bills, which I’m sure they have. I feel bad for my flatmates who paid them for the month of February. Seriously, do Julius and Icy gamble? Are they addicted to meth or something? Where do they take our money?

But at least we were able to find a place we could stay in for the next six months. (This time we have direct contact to the unit owner; we also know his bank accounts and his address.) I used to rent a room of my own, but right now I can’t be choosy. The room’s nice anyway. And clean. Right now it looks like a college dorm room. Peeling wall paint, towels and bras on the racks, small cabinets and compartments, instant noodles and other food packets in see-through containers, my books on the bottom of my mattress.

The first morning I was there I moved so slowly, as if I were lethargic, not knowing where everything was. Now where did I put my bags? Where did I put a copy of my contract? Where are my DVDs? Where’s my coffee?

But I’m good, I’ll get by.

I still want Julius and Icy to pay us back, though.

And I want my collages back. Hmp.

* * *

Anywho my final February weekend was great. Spent most of the time eating chicken teriyaki with the boyfriend, who, bless him, knows how to cook.

Also watched my first Dungeons & Dragons game. :) Being the eternal backseat player and annoying game-watcher (ask my brothers), I can never play this game, or any game really, but I had fun. :D Mike’s Addie brought excellent cookies!