Well, what do you know? It would seem almost everyone has become a wordsmith overnight. I’m talking about high school and college students who submit works like these were PhD dissertations or ordinary folks who suddenly submit poignant, in-depth analyses of issues.
I would know, I’ve encountered all sorts of writers, having worked as a newspaper editor since 1997.
Granted, there are those who were born with it, meaning writing is second nature to them. It’s something innate.
In my experience, they are usually the quiet ones, too. I remember encountering for the first time the work of one female reporter, who, by the way, is now a politician. I tried to look for mistakes, but there were none. Not even a misplaced punctuation mark. She was — she is — that good of a writer. Effortless. Not a word out of place. And you wouldn’t even know she is an exceptional writer because she hardly made a peep.
Then again, when you’re that good, you don’t have to announce it to the world. You just let your work do the talking.
Seriously, compared to her, I’m like a raving lunatic. Since I am a blabbermouth, that shows you that my writing has been honed from years — and I mean, years — of tedious practice to sound effortlessly glib about a subject. Trust me, I worked my ass off to sound this smooth.
Really.
I have to admit I did have one slight advantage. I spent my high school years in and out of international or American schools and having gone to college in the States; speaking, cursing, and dreaming in English 24/7. The late Erma Cuizon pointed it out when she asked me to join SunStar Weekend in 1996. My prose, she said, was naturally flowing. I, she said, sounded like a native speaker. Her words, not mine.
Back then, almost everyone who wrote for Weekend had already joined prestigious writing workshops across the country, with most garnering literary awards. I was the exception. Then again, I was the one who wrote about my fridge conking out as my first contribution to Crossline.
During the media diaspora in late 1997, the SunStar newsroom lost a lot of editors. Ma’am Erma asked if I had experience in editing. “Nope,” I said. “Never mind,” she said, just check for grammar, and recommended me to Atty. Pachico Seares along with Myke Sarthou – yes, the restaurateur Myke Sarthou – and Delora Sales to become copyeditors.
And that’s how I joined the newsroom in October 1997.
I have no illusions. There are others who are far better writers than me. I remember one male reporter who wrote features that would not be out of place in an international publication. He’s now connected with an international nongovernment organization that focuses on human rights and law enforcement. Or another male reporter, whose contributions to Crossline I looked forward to reading. He’s now a public servant in a town on Cebu’s western seaboard.
When I started my column for SunStar a decade ago, I hardly touched on local issues. My peg was CNN or the BBC, and I tackled international matters. If you read my columns in the past, I sounded more academic. More scholarly. Then someone rightfully reminded me that I was neither and that the reason they asked me to write a column was because of my ability to inject humor in my writing.
I still write about history every now and then; it remains my favorite subject. But I can’t avoid what is “trending.” My goal now is to write about issues in a less formal way, almost like a conversation, albeit a smart one. My peg now is to be the male version of Melanie Lim. Check out her column and you’ll know what I mean. Obviously, having been given the pulpit, I sometimes find myself, inadvertently, preaching the Gospel to my readers. Yes, I rant. Yes, I rave. I can’t help it. Some things or some people just deserve it. But I rant and I rave using my own words.
My thought process might sometimes be disjointed and my sentences, even choppy (but only because that’s how I intended them to be), but I am proud to say they are 100 percent me.
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Last Wednesday night, Sept. 24, 2025, I attended the Columnists’ Fellowship Night, one of the activities of the ongoing Cebu Press Freedom Week celebration. I got to rub shoulders with my fellow columnists from SunStar and other local publications. The event was sponsored by First Gen Corp., the country’s largest renewable energy producer.