PRPB

Tales of the Corporate and the Synergy of Reader Experience

PRPB’s Book Talakayan of Siege Malvar’s Team Building and Strat Planning

One of the most interesting interviews I’ve done so far happened last Sunday, June 28th at The Stacks, One Ayala. I’ve interviewed several authors before and usually ask about their writing process and the ideas behind their work. But this was the first time I got to interview an author whose books I had actually given a 1-star review. As a critical reader, I felt that I still owed the books—and the author—honest but respectful questions about 𝘛𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘉𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 and 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.

We started the discussion with the usual introductions of Pinoy Reads Pinoy Books, its vision to champion Filipinos and their writing, and engagements to the third spaces. Then I asked the audience to introduce themselves with their names, and the water bottle brands they carry. A water bottle is an important belonging to every Pinoy nowadays, and it was also a very important plot device in Siege’s books.

With my tablet, I crafted the questions in “corporate speak”, a language representing different departments of an enterprise. After all, Siege’s Linkedin profile mentions, “sell stories, weaponize truths, and create blueprints for communication”. Using root-cause analysis, I asked the first question, as if “relayed by the Research & Development Department”, and the author said that it was the real-life tragedy that inspired Team Building.

The story came from a deeply personal experience: while attending a company team building outside Manila, his father passed away. On his way home, the van he was riding in got into an accident with a motorcycle, leaving him stranded for hours while waiting for another vehicle. Curious neighbors wondered who the lone passenger was, if he was a politician or an actor avoiding the public, without realizing he was simply grieving. That tension between personal loss and the corporate expectation of building a “family” became the seed for what I like to call his Corporate Cycle Novellas.

I also found it interesting that despite never becoming a fellow in any national writers workshop, he’s very open to literary criticism. He doesn’t see criticism as an attack but as part of the conversation between a writer and different kinds of readers. It was refreshing to hear someone speak so openly about receiving feedback, especially after reading works that I personally didn’t enjoy.

Talking to him also reminded me that authors are often more layered than the characters they create. “As relayed by the metrics of the Human Resources”, I jested, I asked his current state from the spectrum of Sue to Mindy: Sue being the ruthless to people in the team while on the other end, Mindy having the patronizing maternal kindness. He mentioned that in real practice of his career, he is the whole spectrum: he could be as ruthless as Sue and as nurturing as Mindy, which made me appreciate how much of himself he had poured into these stories. He asked me the same question, using the same spectrum. I bluntly answered back with a 95% Sue, while my 5% humanity is poured outside of the Corporate — which is this book club. Perhaps it was also a personal wake up call to treat every encounter with kindness and compassion, even after giving his book a one-star review.

Coming from the Ethics and Governance commitee, I asked, “What haunted him the most about these two novellas?” I expected him to bring up the people within the novellas. That can be the mecha elements overriding Manny Conda’s physicality, or Oliver’s struggle with dissonant psyche (because of the comfortable lifestyle) or even about Miggy’s losing mental capacity (with increasing amounts of administered medicine). I even prompted him, that maybe the island’s mysticism can get him sleepless for a bit. Instead, he pointed to one line from Mindy: “Ang pagtatrabaho nang marangal sa Pilipinas ay araw-araw na pagtaya ng buhay.” That answer completely reframed the conversation. Mindy’s one-liner distills the novella’s central thesis: that for many Filipinos, earning an honest living comes at an unbearable human cost. It also encapsulates the books’ ethical ethos—a persistent interrogation of the systems that demand dignity while making survival increasingly inhumane.

I asked Siege about his roadmapping (“Because the Office of the President asks me so!”), and he shared that he’d like to conclude the Eskinita Imprint as a trilogy, the third novella covering other explorations of characters and their respective arcs. He added that discussions are ongoing with 19th Avenida Publishing about possibly releasing an omnibus edition of Team Building to further expand the universe of PhilNutrition, Inc.

We ended the interview by giving him a faux Owala water bottle—a fitting way to wrap things up, considering how symbolic it is in the novella. It’s a plot device, a marker of social status, and perhaps the most practical reminder of all: stay hydrated while surviving the chaos of corporate life.

*Pinoy Reads Pinoy Books is deeply grateful to Packing Sheets, 19th Avenida Publishing, and One Ayala for making this Book Talakayan possible.*

Filipinong Southern Tagalog

Henlo Jesson,

Kumusta ka jan sa Norte? Random: alam mo bang may aklat ng mga tula na galing sa lalawigan mo? Ay kainaman nga! Kailangan ko lagi ng Diksyunaryong Pilipino para lang malaman ang kahulugan ng mga parirala at saknong. Na-realize ko lalong wala akong probinsya. Pinanganak sa Pasay, nag-aral sa Makati, nagta-trabaho sa Taguig, at kasalukuyang nakatira sa Pasig. Mga probinsyudad noong dekada nobenta na naging melting pot ng wika at mga memes at code-switches.

Pero sa koleksyon na ito, parang akong bumalik sa high-school required reading na may trabaho ang paghahanap sa kaluhugan ng mga talinghaga. Bigyan kita ng sampol:

—

POSIBILIDAD
(ni Brixter Tino)

Paano mabalangkas ang paglansag ng tanaw,
ang dungis at ang duklay ng diwarang dahilan?

—

Mga kelangan ng diksyonaryo — lansag, duklay, diwara. Tatlong salitang hindi ginagamit sa NCR. Ay kainaman! (sabi nga ni Mama, ang Batangueña)
Pag-unawa sa metapora (ang galing, pwede palang tula form ang mga tanong sa buhay!) — I digress, bobo ako sa tula at ito ang unang impression: “Paano raw isusuma ang watak-watak na mga pananaw at ang rawness (the “dungis”) at ang hifalutin (the “duklay”) na mga mabusising reasoning (ng tao ito siguro?).” Through possibilities. Galing!!!

Maganda ang mga berso ng tula, pero ang ariba ng diwa, napakatagal. Kaya nakakasura siyang basahin. Pwede talaga ito sa mga estudyanteng sadyang nag-aaral ng linggwistika, or may oras na maghanap sa diksyunaryo, or people who are naturally curious about the work. Sabi ng maraming kumento at blurb sa libro, magaling si Brixter kasi naipon niya lahat ito (at medyo na-intimidate ako sa uniqueness ng #danas niya dito sa kamaynilaan; polarizing kami kasi taal ako ng 🎵🎶 Mahal kong Maynila~🎵🎶).

Actually, malapit na ang Book Talakayan namin dito, July 19 na, sa PUP! Kung bababa ka, magsama ka ng mga friends o bisitahin mo yung Pinoy Reads Pinoy Books tas catch-up naman tayo. Tungkol sa wika o memes o anumang ganap ng mga kanya-kanyang lovelife kineso haha!

Hopefully maka-akyat ako jan at samahan mo naman ako mag-hike sa Ulap! See you uwu!!!

-Ella

Pagkasugat, Pagkahilom at Pagkilos

PRPB’s Book Talakayan of Kaisa Aquino’s Isabela

Last 22nd March, the Pinoy Reads Pinoy Books (PRPB) discussed Kaisa’s debut novel Isabela. To celebrate the Women’s month, #AbanteBabae was reinforced with a woman writer and a woman moderator tackling the heavy prose of the book; it’s fragmented realities and lost histories, together with the involvement of women in the movement, either directly or indirectly. Sheltered in the safe space of Quezon City Public Library, we made the discussion more friendly through the banters and jests, inviting the attendees to interject or ask follow-up questions as we go along the discussions.

We opened the BT with the introduction of everyone, knowing their names and their current activities, and who are their favorite Women Writers. Even though we are of less than 20 attendees, I was amazed that we have cited many women writers, echoing their contributions to the rich landscape of the Pinoy literary.

Kaisa, a profound Filipino word meaning “one with”, confessed that she is a 90’s kid, She explained that her name is merely a combination of two provinces — Cagayan and Isabela. With her name demystified, we also asked on how the interweaving stories came into life and how it was also blended together, crafting a composite novel from her years in her graduate school. “Thesis lang naman talaga ito eh,” she mentioned, but after the 7 years of writing grind and multiple workshops, she gave birth a tale of different women from the iterations of Isabela, overarching the theme of her hometown and its proximity from the three decades of insurgency in the countryside.

One of the questions I asked was “women and wounds”, and how Isabela’s multiple iterations received all forms of wounds — from a literal bullet, to the disappearances, to the loss of a husband, of a son, and of a father — and how they carry it through time, while coping and healing through different means. As a reader, I felt the heaviness of the prose. They carry the wounds and they keep on moving, continuing on the search and meaning, may it be a run for survival (from the military), a search for an alternative healing (tawa-tawa leaves) and a trail to summit (to see the purple hydrangeas). I even told Kaisa, “Sana ako na lang ang nasusugatan… kasi parang ang bigat na.” She answered back, “Ella, hindi ka ba nasusugatan?” Her reverse card question made me realize that I am also very much a wounded woman who soldiers on, the same with the characters in the novel.

Aside from the questions of themes, the winding narratives, and the execution of prose, the members also shared their reading experiences. CL mentioned how the multitude of characters and iterations were effectively executed. Kwesi asked about redefining the work from his first impression that Isabela is a collection of short stories. Jaffy digressed that maybe the novel is a proposed reality from the current socio-political climate we are in. Jayson shares that he sees the sentiments of regrets and its fragmented stories of struggle. Lawrence apologizingly confessed that he found the open-ended endings of each chapter difficult to ingest, a journey very challenging to trek because of the shifts
of the point-of-view and genre of realism and magical realism. I guess his reading experience feels like a tiring hike, its summit filled with fog. Meanwhile, my reading experience feels like away from the mountains. I shared the metaphor of anchorage and voyage via the novel’s prologue and ending; a ship lifting its anchors (the norms imposed on women), readying itself for another journey (of going home).

Miss Thelma, a retired teacher and a guest of our Book Talakayan, did not ask Kaisa any questions about the latter’s craft and poetics, but thanked her instead. She was grateful that someone has written about her province. In her mellow voice, she told us that their shared hometown is filled with stories of beauty and activism and after a long time, Kaisa was able to put them in paper.

The final question came from Rikkimar, a PNU student. “Paano natin mailalapit ang akda sa mga taong malayo sa danas ng nasa libro?” To which Billy jokingly answered, “Eh di ipabasa mo.” And I believe Kaisa agreed, because one way to reach the other’s heart is through a shared experience and building through a community of reading.

I ended the #BookTalakayan citing this page 77 of Isabela, its prose a perfect description of a suspended reality:

“Ka Abel says that they’re here. This is the place. Just as they cross over the bend of the meadow, without warning whatsoever, the landscape changes, as if a cloth lifts, and all they can now see are the purple hydrangeas. They are all suddenly still, stunned by the unreal view, like a fantasy. The world tilts heavily as they take in the whole landscape. It’s marvelous.”

A day after, I still remember the echoes and sighs of this discussion I moderated. And I realized, this book club can appreciate the stillness of beauty among the chaos of the mad world.

Bidyoke Sa Gedli

Pagkatapos ng PRPB Book Talakayan, sumama ako sa mga kaibigang dumalaw sa Silingan Coffee. Ang sabi-sabi, may kaunting pa-party ang mga may-ari. Dahil masyadong maaga kami dumating, nakita ko ang pagse-set up sa labas ng tindahan: laptop at speaker, mic, camera, mga mesa at upuan. Hindi pa fully ready, kaya naghapunan muna kami.

Pagbalik muli sa kapehan ay nakita namin ang kainitan ng kantahan ng mga kababaihan ng Silingan— mga nanay, lola, at ate; mga human rights advocate, trauma counselor at jounalist — mga babaeng naging kaibigan at kaanak ng mga biktima ng EJK. Lumapit sa amin ang isa at nag-anyaya na kami’y makikanta at makisayaw sa kakantahin nila sa bidyoke. Maya-maya lamang, siya’y nagsalaysay tungkol sa kanyang lalaking anak na pinaslang ng pulis; tila ang tingin sa kaniyang buhay ay walang saysay. Kahit masaya syang may lumipad sa Hague, bumuntung-hininga siya at sinabing, “Wala namang araw na hindi mabigat. At alam nating simula pa lang ito ng mahabang laban.” Pero biglang kumabig at nagsabing, “Ngayon, hinga muna at pagbigyan ang sarili. Mag-celebrate sa little win.”

Habang kinakanta nila ang Tatsulok, hindi ko mapigilang makikanta at isigaw ang “Hangga’t marami ang lugmok sa kahirapan, at ang hustisya ay para lang sa mayaman!” Batid ko, kasama ng sanlaksang kababaihang nakiki-jamming, na mahaba pa ang laban. Na kailangan nating mas maging matatag. Sa araw-araw, tapang ang ating tangan.

Tila bumulong muli ang tanong ng author sa pinanggalingang panayam, “Ella, hindi ka rin ba nasusugatan?” Kasabay ng biglang pag-alala ay ang aking paghawak sa mukhang tila nilamig ng minsanang hangin ng gabi.

Yun pala…
May mata nang tumubig.
May luha sa pisngi.

The Forestry of Fiction

A Book Talakayan of Glenn Diaz’s Yñiga

Last Saturday, September 28, Pinoy Reads Pinoy Books (PRPB) discussed the Glenn Diaz’s second book, Yñiga for our Book Talakayan for the month. A contrast from the previous months, the book was a bit heavier on theme and discussion was done more intimately. Nontheless, we were able to spark the interest of our new book club attendess to chime in and get personal with the author about how he created the novel, its underlying themes and the process of building its series of events. We held the discussion in Harong Cafe, the headquarters of the Human Rights and People Empowerment Center (HRPEC).

We opened the discussion with the introduction of the new joiners, letting them say their horoscope signs and names of their pets if they have one. Like Yñiga who leans more on the horoscope, I prefer to know the demographics of the attendess so that I can leverage the temperament of the discussion.

The first question that comes to mind: how did the book emerge? Glenn answered that his second book is a manuscript out of his doctorate thesis from University of Adelaide, proving that the forest can be a setting, a novel’s design, and a device of discourse about the deep-rooted history of social activism, counter-insurgency, and our personal and collective traumas. “It’s like another thesis defense again!” Glenn gasped, as he talked about the Qualitative and the Academic nuances of the novel before traversing the creative pursuit. As an accountant with no experience in presenting qualitative thesis, I found this fascinating.

Unlike the first novel focusing on interweaving narratives, Yñiga focused more on the interweaving of timelines and in its spiral prose style. Glenn honestly mentioned about the thought process of trauma, quoting Lenin, “one step forward, two steps back.” The discussion was like paving a new walking path to the forestry of Glenn’s fiction, as Yñiga’s winding narrative requires patient exploration. Readers have to weave through the long paragraphs and sentences that doesn’t explicitly show if one is an internal dialogue or otherwise. Glenn trusted the readers to navigate the slow-burn prose. He candidly said, “Yñiga is like an edging reading experience”. When asked about memorable scenes, Glenn was personally proud of the “sepia moments”: those cinematic shots of Yñiga’s childhood flashing forward to her present, minutes before the suspense.

The members asked and commented about a different take of feminism in the novel; how the women were very much involved in the community and how it pales their personal relationships. Jayson also mentioned that despite Yñiga being an unlikeable character and being distant to the events that go on around her, and yet it contrasts to the lyrical beauty of the prose. Julian, an editor, mentioned about the sense of community in one of the important events of the novel. Perry asked about Glenn’s experience of putting a logical discourse to a craft seamlessly as this was manifested in the novel. Krystine, a new attendee, asked about the impression of using English as the main language of the novel as this would cater foreign readers more than to fellow Filipinos. Capping the discussion, Kwesi asked what’s next for Glenn, what are some of the project/s he is working on, or if he will write a novel in Filipino.

I closed the Book Talakayan with a jest of the “and so on and so forth”, Glenn’s inflections as a podcast co-host. Some picture-taking and book signing came after. In my mind, this quote from his other work When the World Ended I Was Thinking About The Forest resonated with the day’s book discussion, “I think what I’m trying to do is turn the uncertainty into a clearing; the terror, into a project. (A kaingin.)”

Glenn did it. Yñiga is his kaingin.