As the Frankfurt Book Fair was opening last week, there was already much promise of good things to come. International...
The book “Ang Dyip ni Mang Tomas” (Mang Tomas and His Jeep), written in Tagalog by Genaro R. Gojo Cruz, with English translation by Heidi Emily E. Abad and paintings by Anthony E. Palomo (Canvas and the University of Santo Tomas Publishing House, 2009) is not a new release. But it is worth revisiting since at the Ayala Town Center, 10 huge billboards feature the text and the lovely illustrations of the book.
The news that Amy Gary, editor of the Margaret Wise Brown Estate, found hundreds of pages of unpublished manuscripts in a cedar trunk in the attic of Margaret’s sister, is significant.
Two days before the Nov. 26 launch of “The Aquino Legacy: An Enduring Narrative” (Imprint Publishing) that my husband Elfren and I authored, we were having a dry run of the program at the venue, the Writers Bar of Raffles Makati.
A welcome ray of light during this season was the recent announcement of the Best Reads choices for the 6th...
A seemingly simple story, “The Mountain That Grew” by Alfred A. Yuson, illustrated by Marcel Antonio and Ilana Antonio (San...
The Best Reads for 2022 were recently announced in a virtual ceremony by the Philippine Board on Books for...
Contemporary Philippine history records August as the month of deaths of individuals highly admired like Cory Aquino (Aug. 1), Cory Aquino’s Interior Secretary Jaime Ferrer (Aug. 2), Ninoy Aquino (Aug. 21), and the most recent, P-Noy’s Interior Secretary Jesse Robredo (Aug. 18). These dates should give greater relevance and meaning to the annual holiday at the end of the month, National Heroes Day.
A year ago, on Oct. 5, Joker Arroyo left us. All too characteristic of him, he had left strict instructions that he did not want any public announcements, no memorial ceremonies from Congress and the Senate, or the usual ninth-day or 40th-day commemorations, not even the traditional farewell ceremony of his fraternity, the Upsilon Sigma Phi.
On a Sunday morning in April, Mario Taguiwalo, former Health undersecretary and political activist and thinker, passed away quietly at home, and was immediately cremated. He had neither wake nor obituary—just as he had specified in the months before what he knew was an imminent death.