To be a journalist, part 2 ...


"I grew inured to the sight and smell of blood, and I can say, today, that I had no better preparation for the kind of realist fiction that I would come to write than those weeks on the police beat, confronting death by the day (which didn’t make me feel any braver, but rather more aware and respectful of the finitude of life).

"It was all very exhilarating, even in the most difficult and trying of moments; sometimes the toughest tests took place in the newsroom itself—once, for example, I was driven close to tears by having to rewrite a story half a dozen times to please an editor who, I now realize, was teaching me a valuable lesson in verbal economy."

It's no secret I'm a huge fan of Butch Dalisay. I've read many of his books, and I eagerly follow him week after week. I marvel and delight at how effortless and beautiful, and oftentimes delicious, his prose is. I've always regarded Butch as a gifted writer. With this piece, I now know what it took to hone such precious, precious gift.

Read more, here.