Reading Books My Friends Have Written

In which I am tremendously proud and vaguely jealous

One of my “goals” when I was in high school was to have published a book by 30 years old.

Published was an important detail, as written was not lofty enough for high school me, who approached life with the hubris of Icarus but none of the follow-through. At 34, I have not even finished any book I sought to complete, every outline finished abandoned once I had to actually sit down to write.

But this letter isn’t about me.

Over the last few months, I’ve gotten the immense privilege (!) of having read three very good books three of my very good friends have written. All of them kind of orbit around the same inward-looking theme, though all three are vastly different and would likely appeal to a different person.¹

1 — Nothing Deep by Richard Bolisay

For consumers of local films (and the writing that comes after), Richard Bolisay is perhaps no stranger to you. A critic, lover, and champion of film, Richard is a recognisable figure in Philippine independent cinema. Currently an academic, he is working on a PhD at St. Andrews University after completing his masters at the University of Sussex in 2018.

I missed out on reading Richard’s first book, Break it to Me Gently, so it’ll be difficult for me to compare the two. I’ll speak only of this one, so. Nothing Deep is a collection of essays, interviews, and features on local cinema that Richard has written over the span of his career as a journalist.

I love the closeness with which Richard regards his subjects, and the overflowing respect and admiration he has for an industry that is hard to love.

Richard is never pretentious, nor does he over-intellectualise his subject matter or his thoughts on them, no matter how “highbrow” they appear to be. Perhaps the title of the collection signals this as a deliberate approach. I am always in awe of people who can do that; that is, those who are able to bridge the gap between an idea that is almost intangible and our comprehension of them. I strive to do that with my own writing, too, and I always feel like Richard is always successful in doing so. Not in an effort to “dumb something down” because it’s never done condescendingly. Rather, in a way that invites further thought and introspection.

Anyway, it’s a great book, and I’m happy to have read it.

Buy from artbooks.ph or Lazada. Richard’s Tinyletter.

2 — Brief Histories by Don Jaucian

I’ve waited so long to read this collection of essays by Don Jaucian. Using pop culture icons of his youth and adolescence as devices to unpack queer themes and experiences, his essays are a warm and humorous café catch up with a friend.

Don was my editor when I worked at CNN Philippines Life, and reading this made it feel like I was back at my desk, laughing alongside him. That job was my last publishing job before leaving the country for my masters, and it remains the last one I’ve worked since.

Having grown up in a big city all my life — in an admittedly quite sheltered capacity — my experience of queerness is super different from Don’s, though we share intersections. I loved reading about fairly deep issues through the lens of things like song hits, BL series, and Carrie Bradshaw. My own struggles of queerness circulated around incongruity with religion (or so I thought), Don grappled a lot with body image and the embodiment of the queer body and how it is situated in a society that neglects the wellbeing of our queer population.

Though, in a fun way, obvi.

Reading this collection made me miss my friend, but also, it made me feel happy and lucky to call him a friend at all.

Buy from Lazada. Don’s Substack:

The Sentence is a Lonely Place

3 — Notes from the Border by Isa Garcia

Okay, so maybe this is cheating a little bit, because Notes from the Border is a five-volume collection of comics written by Isa, and illustrated by her friend and housemate, Maggie Yoingco. It’s a quick read, but an intimate peek into Isa’s heart.

Isa is my best friend. I met her in second grade, and though at first we were frenemies (as in, we were both friendly with each other but it turned out we didn’t like each other so much, lol), we grew closer as we grew older. Growing up, Isa was the friend who was always there for you, but kept her issues close to her heart. I would only find out about a tumultuous experience after it’s happened, and after she’s had time to process things. So, for me, it’s always so nice to see her open up and be vulnerable.

Tenderhearted and wise, this collection is perfect to tuck into, when you’re feeling a little unmoored. Not necessarily to help you anchor yourself back, but to be reminded that you’re not alone in your own odyssey.

Buy from Alaia Design Studio. Isa’s Substack:

The Uncommon Good

How lucky to be surrounded by people who have written books, let alone books I actually find good. Am I jealous? Absolutely.

Not to turn this conversation towards myself (but, doing that, totally…), but I often wonder if I have a book in me. I’ve certainly written enough to put something together, but I don’t know anyone who wants to hear about the exploits of someone not so rich or fabulous, but who lives quite a cushy life anyway. It’s not extravagant like Crazy Rich Asians or Real Housewives, and it’s certainly not at all like Brillante Mendoza’s poverty porn. It’s not even lowbrow, sleazy, or salacious enough to be on Vanderpump Rules (though I suppose I should be thankful for that).

Maybe I have books in me. I need to unlock these stories, though. I always felt like I would make a collection of short stories, but the first and only writers workshop I ever went to ended with me stopping writing short fiction altogether.²

I hope I have a book in me. In the meantime, you can read these ones, because they’re really good. Not just because they’re by my friends, but because they’re good, period.

1. My forays into learning about branding and marketing would have me categorise the “target consumer” and come up with the elaborate lives these people live, which is, I suppose, a way of writing fiction.

2. One of the people on the writers panel was one of my favourite local poets and they began going in on my story, saying it wasn’t so much a short story as a “mood piece”, and I just never forgot about it, and never wrote a short story again. I was a college sophomore.