PICOF 2025 - AN UPDATE
If you told 10-year-old Christine that she’d grow up to be a published author, she’d probably laugh and say, “What does that even mean?”
I’ve loved writing for as long as I can remember. No one really taught me how to write the way I do. I just kept chasing anything that could help me understand the craft better. I joined every club, every workshop I could. There was always this quiet part of me that believed… this moment would come.
Writing, to me, feels like eating my favorite food. It fills me up. I love putting feelings into words, turning thoughts into something I can hold. It still makes me nervous. But I think that kind of nervousness means something’s right. It’s just excitement in disguise.
Recently, I got to attend the Philippine International Comics Festival. It was nerve-wracking, honestly. I’d been preparing for months, and when the day came, it all happened in a blur.
I had my pitch ready. I must’ve said it hundreds of times. And I never got tired. I was excited to meet every single person who stopped by. I looked forward to the moment their eyes would light up when I revealed a twist. I introduced my characters like they were old friends, and with the way my amazing artist drew the character’s faces, their expressions… it made it so easy to bring them to life.
The feedback I received was overwhelming in the best way. Two guests even cried when I shared the story behind my inspiration. I nearly cried too. That kind of connection… it doesn’t happen every day. Some strangers even gave me hugs. And somehow, they didn’t feel like strangers at all. I guess that’s the beauty of storytelling. It brings people together, even if you’ve only just met.
I like documenting things, whether they’re big wins or quiet little moments. But this one… this was special. One for the books.
Every time something amazing like this happens, I still talk to Simon, the person who inspired Juni. I message him sometimes, just to say how things went. Even though he’ll never read them again, it’s my way of staying connected. Of saying, “Hey, I did something good today.” I can still picture his face. I guess seven years with someone really does leave a lifetime’s worth of memories. I don’t think I’ll ever forget him.
I even shared a dream I had about him recently.
I’m just glad I got to see him again, even just in a dream. And I know, deep down, I think he’d be happy for me. I don’t cry as much anymore when I think of him. That feels like a small victory. I just hope that by the time we meet again, I’ve done everything I’m meant to do.
So yeah. I write these things to remind myself of where I’ve been. To honor the journey, both the highs and the lows. Someday, I want to look back at all this and feel proud.
Till the next amazing thing. And if we haven’t met yet… I hope we do someday soon.