Bestselling author Neil Gaiman's unflagging support for Filipino 'unrealism' is exemplified by the release of The Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards prose and comics anthologies.

Any fan of science fiction, fantasy, and horror knows who Neil Gaiman is.

Eversince he came out with the critically acclaimed Sandman series in 1989, Gaiman has became a luminary among comic book fans around the world.

Novels like “Stardust”, “American Gods”, and “Anansi Boys” have made him a “literary rock star” among fans and critics alike. His young adult novel, “The Graveyard Book”, even won him a Newberry Medal, awarded for the most distinguished contribution to American literature for children.

Gaiman has even made inroads into Hollywood, with the movie adaptation of his children’s novel “Coraline” getting nominated for Best Animated Feature at this year’s Academy Awards. He also co-wrote the screenplay for the blockbuster adaptation of the English epic “Beowulf”, and is even set to direct an adaptation of his comic book “Death: The High Cost of Living”.

But even with such a list of credits to his name, Gaiman is still someone who looks out for emerging talent.

For the past three years, he has been sponsoring the Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards, which recognizes the best in science fiction, fantasy, and horror writing in the country, awarding entries for prose, comic books, and short film.

In this interview, Students and Campuses Bulletin talks to the bestselling author about his efforts to encourage Filipino “unrealism”, what his impressions are of Filipinos after being to the country multiple times, and how reading is important for young writers who want to nurture their talent.

STUDENTS AND CAMPUSES (SCB): Could you talk about The Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards?
NEIL GAIMAN (NG): Five years ago, all I knew about the Philippines was that there were lots and lots of people in the Philippines who were writing my website saying “Please come.” I thought that it was so strange and so cool.

Then I met Jaime Daez at Comic Con and he said that if I wanted to come to the Philippines, he would bring me in. I said “Are there people there who will actually want to see me?” And he said, “Oh, yes.”

So I came down here five years ago and I couldn’t even begin to imagine the reception that I would get!

I remember being led out into the Rockwell Tent at the very first event and stepping into a wall of sound louder than anything I’ve ever heard before. There were 3,000 people shouting very, very loudly. I felt that I must have stepped of onto the wrong stage. Obviously, a rock star had stepped onto my stage.

I signed that night until 1 a.m. and loved meeting my readers, loved meeting an apparently large number of very, very talented Filipino creators who felt disenfranchised. People who were writing science fiction felt that they couldn’t get published, that in the Philippines, they don’t do that kind of thing.

When I was growing up, Filipino creators were absolutely out there in American comics. I thought that Filipino creators were taking part in the cultural dialogue and I was astonished to find that they weren’t, or at least they felt they weren’t.

SCB: Did you think about this even after you had left Manila?
NG: Very shortly after leaving I kept in touch with Jaime. I wanted to do something to change things. I wanted to do something for what I called at the time as Filipino ‘unrealism.’ I read a lot of wonderful Filipino fiction, Filipino realistic fiction, and I wanted to encourage other things, this incredible, wonderful, mythic, folktale background.

We came up with the idea for the award. I would put up the prize money, which I have been doing for three years and Jaime and his people would do all the heavy lifting. This is now the third, and we’ve expanded to short film.

A GOOD HARVEST OF STORIES

SCB: What did you discover about this year’s crop of entries?
NG: The thing that has made me happiest about reading this year’s winners, particularly from prose, is how better they are than the first year.

On the one hand, it is very uniquely Filipino, but also something that could stand on a world stage.

And as I said right from the very beginning, I loved the idea that getting this award would mean a lot to Filipino creators.

I also look to a world where Filipino writers and creators can win more Harvey awards, Eisner awards, Nebula awards. That’s really why I am here. I’m thrilled, I’m excited. We’re really, really seeing some astounding stories.

Do I think any of the stories that won here should win Hugos and Nebulas?

No, probably not. Do I think any of the authors in here, if they keep going, have a chance? Yes, they do.

Part of the joy for me with the award is that it gave them a place and a focus, the idea that if they joined, they could win. You will get fame, you will get glory, you will get money. And Filipinos really seem to like fame, glory, and money (laughs).

SCB: What were you expecting the entries would be like during the first year of the awards? Did they meet your expectations?
NG: Well, they did, although for the first year I had no idea what to expect. All I knew was that I came to the Philippines, met smart, creative people, who had no outlet. I was in a world where there was no national award or prizes for science fiction, fantasy, or horror, and in fact, was excluded from national prizes.

What fascinated me after that is that stories got better and better, and they seem to break down into different kinds of stories, but all of which were very uniquely Filipino. You’d get small, personal, beautiful stories.

You’d get angry social satire science fiction. You’d get horror.

SCB: Any of the stories that stand out in your mind?
NG: It’s really interesting if you look at the subject matter of the stories that won this year. You have “A Kind of Flotsam”, which is a glorious tale wherever it was set, but it’s very Filipino. It’s about somebody who has psychic flashes, and who can kind of read minds and kind of knows stuff, but never connects and actually reaches out and touches another person, until the very end. It’s a heartbreaking, beautiful little story. Just when you think everything’s been said about telepathy and psychic flashes, somebody says something else.

You have “Filipina: The Supermaid”.

Well-deserving of its People’s Choice award. Incredibly angry, and justifiably so, about the nature of the Philippines sending people out across the planet, what it does to the Philippines, what it does to the national psyche, to live in the world where Filipinos are essentially a kind of product.

You have “Cherry Clubbing”, which essentially is a story about exploitative sexual tourism, and how monstrous that can be seen through the perspective of fantasy and horror. It becomes even more revolting than you would imagine just sex tourism to be. People are exploiting mythological creatures.

SCB: Does that theme of social commentary come to the fore in succeeding installments or was it present since the first year?
NG: Since the first year. There was that wonderful story about a spaceship powered by gossip, which was both a commentary on the nature of the Philippines and funny and still angry in a glorious way. It’s a combination of humor and anger that in the Philippines you breed well (laughs). It’s really touching, the humor.

THE MANANANGGAL THAT FASCINATES

SCB: How would you describe Philippine unrealism?
NG: If you asked me that question in year one or even year two, I don’t think I could answer you. I knew that there was something that I was not seeing. I was buying books of great Filipino short stories, Filipino fiction, doing research, because I felt that I should know this. I was reading it and it was really interesting and it was sort of like a Latin-American tradition, but without any of the magic. And I could not see this amazing, wonderful, rich cultural tapestry filled with monsters and magic and madness.

Now you can definitely start to perceive a pattern. There’s a really interesting and quite brilliant use of satire in the kind of fiction that we’ve been getting, the science fiction particularly.

It reminds me a lot of Kurt Vonnegut, but there is absolutely a willingness to be funny and sad at the same time, while talking about what’s going on right now in the Philippines in terms of society.

There’s an absolutely fascinating strain of social commentary, very wry, very tongue-in-cheek, and very funny. There’s also a tendency to do heartbreaking stories, very real, very personal, which is very Filipino.

I think what to expect with the stories that have won so far is that nobody writing is pretending to be American or English. It’s not like they’re writing to sound like somebody. In terms of Filipino unrealism, that’s what makes me happiest.

SCB: You use a lot of mythology in your stories. Have you ever thought of using Filipino myths?
NG: During my first time here, people gave me different books on Filipino mythology, and I was just lying in the bath reading them thinking “This is absolutely amazing.” Half of me was saying I should do a story on this, I should absolutely use some of these. But the other half was going, why aren’t you people writing these stories? You do it! And that’s honestly part of the reason to start the award. I wanted you guys to try it. Will I do it? I probably would, but I want to do it in a world where I wouldn’t feel like a cultural tourist. I would love to do it.

SCB: Is there a particular myth that really interested you?
NG: I love the manananggal. They were absolutely my favorite. They’re so incredibly complicated. It’s not just enough to have flying ladies. The top half of the flying lady has to leave their legs behind. And then they have these tongues!

Vampires have sharp teeth, but the manananggal has this tongue that can wind for hundreds and hundreds of feet until they find a pregnant lady and suck out the life. And if you’re smart, you put salt on the lower half, or occasionally herbs. What a glorious thing! I’ve never read anything like it anywhere else. It’s not like anybody else’s story. It’s a very specific thing. You would know a manananggal if you met them. They definitely come from here.

FILIPINOS THE FUNNIEST

SCB: What are your impressions of the Filipino people?
NG: They’re one of the funniest, loudest people I’ve ever met in my life. After my first visit to the Philippines, I found that I can actually make out who the Filipinos are in an airport. Where the noise is, there they are (laughs). I was raised in England, we are not a very loud people.

What struck me about Filipinos is how grateful they are when they are mentioned. Filipinos would approach me and say “You mentioned us! In The Graveyard Book!” Well sure! “No, you don’t understand. Nobody mentions us!” (laughs) Filipinos are amazingly grateful, very, very creative, and funny. That’s a short list of adjectives I would append.

SCB: Is there a medium that you are still looking forward to still doing?
NG: I think I would love to do more live theater, an original play. My publisher has basically said that anytime I want to collect the poetry I have written, they would like to do that. And they would like me to illustrate it too. Which I kind of like the idea of doing because I’m such an incredibly bad artist by comparison with the real artists. I love the idea of just putting together a collection of strange illustrated poems because it’s so weird and personal.

READ, READ, READ

SCB: What advice would you give young writers?
NG: I would tell them to write. I would tell them to finish things. I would tell them to do whatever they can to get things published. I would tell them to use the Internet. I would tell them to read, read everything they can, not just me. Read anything. Read good stuff, read bad stuff, read big clunky novels, read elegant things, because everything you read, you learn from.