All About My Madder

I first met her almost six years ago in Dumaguete, as a co-fellow in the National Writers Workshop that year. As the oldest, she became our batch’s designated secondary guardian, looking after us and facilitating communication with the locals as our interpreter, since she’s a bonafide Cebuana (“Banilad, highway ra!”). As far as I can remember there wasn’t a time when we didn’t sit beside each other during our workshop sessions, exchanging comments, exchanging bits and pieces about each other. Studied Economics at UP. Finished Mass Comm at St. Joseph’s College. Took up Law at Ateneo. Attending Creative Writing classes at UP. Married to her only boyfriend. Have been writing for some time. Just started writing recently.

We continued to meet up after the workshop, especially since I’m just a short tricycle ride away from her cozy pad. She would often invite me to come over for snacks or for a round of two of Guesstures, sometimes with her husband and our mutual friend Germaine, and other times with her “cre-w” or friends from her church. Such fun times. But there were times we would spend our time just talking. About what? Our MA classes. Our classmates and professors. Our time in Dumaguete (and later on, in Baguio too: we became co-fellows again at the UP workshop two years after we met). The books we’ve read. Her family. My persistent doubts about my competence to write creatively. Our frustrations as writers. The unopened books in her shelves, gathering dust, waiting to be read.

As one would expect of friends, we support each other’s writing efforts, through our struggles with the demands of the craft. And we applaud each other when we got recognized by our peers. I was very happy for her when the first story she ever published won an important prize almost four years ago. And she returned the sentiment two years later when a play of mine clinched an award in another literary competition. In fact, she was one of the selected few I had personally informed of the good news when I received that cherished letter.

As I write this, she’s in Cebu, enjoying the company of her parents, her siblings and especially her husband, who’s the complete opposite of the husbands she had depicted in her fiction, fiction that one of our former professors has described as “exquisite.” Anyone who has read her work knows how deserving she is of that praise. If you’re reading this, Madder, rest easy, relax and try to write (Kapal ko ‘no? Lord knows I should also tell myself that.).

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MADDER. Remember, your age now is the new twenty. Ü