FEATURES

When making a FEATURES PAGE,

IMAGINE CHOOSING WHAT CAKE TO EAT ON CHRISTMAS EVE

Who (Personality Sketch)

When
What (Trend)
(Historical
Feature)
Where
How (DYI) (Travelogue)
A good features page is like a smart
food consumer
Why choose one or two when you
can have a
taste of everything?
Personality Sketch
 Personality Sketch
What is something unique about this
person?
WHAT MAKES HIM/HER STAND OUT FROM
OTHERS?
WHY DOES HE/SHE NEED
TO BE FEATURED?
 Personality Sketch
FORGET ABOUT:
-BIRTHDAY, AGE, ADDRESS
-Educational status
-other information that readers do
not really care about
trends
 Trends
What is something unique about this
trend?
What makes it click?
Why do people love it?
How long Will it last?
travelogue
 Travelogue
Think of yourself as an endorser.
Share good and bad experiences.
Focus on the place, the culture, the
people.
Always make your home town as a point
of comparison.
Do-it-yourself
 DIY/ How-to
Better if your topic is part of
your interest or personal
advocacy.
That is what makes it real.
Historical feature
 Historical Features
Relevance and Importance from the
viewpoint of others.
A little narration of what happened
and how it shaped history and
influenced the present.
Writing tools for Feature writers
Anecdotes
Emotional pain
Parallel emotions
Common sense
 A feature article
is a special kind of
essay. It must
neither be too soft
nor too hard.
A feature article is
always based on
facts. it must be
written objectively.
 A feature article
must always have a
specific angle, and
avoids general
topics.
 Finding topics
Topic: nutrition month

Possible Angles: theme

performances
guest speaker and his speech
local issues concerning nutrition
General versus specific topics
GENERAL SPECIFIC
Love Two different faiths, one real love
Education Best study practices of honor students
disaster No-cook meals during natural calamities
 A feature article
narrates facts in a
creative manner.
 A feature article
has a title with a
complete and
specific thought.
 Writing a good title
Correct:
Kris Aquino: From rejection at home to a spot in tinsel town

Nightmare in bohol: how my vacation was cut short by abu sayyaf

Incorrect:
Kris Aquino returns
Bohol and asg
A feature article has
an enticing lead.
 Enticing Lead
Correct:

For many years, Silent Sanctuary never really lived up to its

name. It kept the whole music industry singing to rock and
classics combined. However, with the ever-changing landscape
of the countrys unstable music scene, the band hurdled a lot
of challenges that almost made them, for lack of words, silent.
 Enticing Lead
inCorrect:

Do you like music? Do you like rock songs?

Then, you will definitely agree with me that silent

sanctuary is one of the most popular bands of today.
A feature article has
a concise but
interesting body
A feature article has
a compelling ending.
 Laguna to Lubuagan: Meeting Historys
Love Child
I am not a traveler. by jose paolo c. calcetas
Id rather stay at home and watch TV all day long than explore places and meet different
faces.
When asked what I prefer for a vacation, there is only one definite answer, and that is city
life. I want traffic. I want pollution. I want chaos. I want to hear vehicles honking. I want to see
busy people walking everywhere, worrying how they would beat each other for a space in the
LRT. I want to see bright lights and skyscrapers that reach the ceiling of the House of God. I
want the energy that only a thriving urban hub can give me.
In other words, everything I want is not in Lubuagan.
Nevertheless, the idea of a 48 hour-travel back and forth a world-renowned attraction that
is truly local yet so foreign to me is nothing short of a nightmare.
Fate played a joke on me one ordinary Friday. I came to the office without any hint that
hours later, I will be packing my bags to the Mountain Province for a weekend I will never
forget. My former boss, a controversial politician, told me that he was invited to a big event in
the uplands, and as his speechwriter, I was required to come. For my office mates, the
opportunity to travel was an instant treat. It was one of the perks of being a government
employee. However, I received the news in a negative light. It was in every way an instant
death sentence for me.
Travel time
The 24-hour long journey from Laguna to Lubuagan began at 5 a.m.
From sunrise to sunrise, I felt like a sardine forced inside a small tin.
Since most of my travel buddies are women, we had no choice but to
practically stop over every single gasoline station we pass on through
because someone constantly needs to respond to the call of nature.
Around noon, our bus was already traversing Hacienda Luisita.
Somehow, I forgot my frustrations and discomfort when I took a peak
of the infamous and highly-contested land which stretches over five
municipalities. From inside the bus, I can taste the sweetness of each
sugarcane in my palate just by looking at it.
I fell asleep around 1 p.m. and woke up around 5 p.m. I was very
surprised to find out that we were still in Luisita.
Passed food
The long hours of travel made us famished. When we arrived in Pangasinan, we only had the strength
to get off the bus, but were too exhausted to choose where we shall have dinner. Nobody wants to decide where
to eat, but when one suggests a place, everybody turns it down. Everyone wants to taste local delicacies, but
nobody wants to walk farther than a stones throw. It was not until everyone was one calorie away from dying
when we all settled to eat at the most authentic restaurant of allChowking, which was nearest from where we
standin front of us.
After having our dinner, we traveled to Baguio and experienced the cold climatea distinct trademark
of the countrys summer capital. However, on our way up, we were halted by the long, grueling traffic which
made all of us very irritable. On the tail end of the bus, my male officemates were having their own happy hour,
singing their own videoke pieces while drowning themselves with canned beer.
Instead of being the certified killjoy that I am, I was filled with too much frustration that I felt the need to
sleep it off.
Cue the angels, we have arrived
Six a.m. the next day, I woke up to the wows and amusement of my officemates who were staring at
clouds and fogs of different shapes and sizes as our bus reaches the peak of our destination.
As I set foot in the soils of this low-profile town, many of my misconceptions have been dismissed.
Lubuagan has already embraced progress. Houses still exude a traditional aura yet they are no longer made of
indigenous materials alone.
The townspeople are very pleasant and hospitable to even greet and hug us as if it were not the first
time we saw each other. There are schools, small businesses, and even cable television. Loading stores for
prepaid mobile services are virtually everywhere. They even know who Oprah Winfrey is.
The trees were lushly green. It was even greener than any green we have ever seen in our life.
Our fingers slipped through the clean surface of leaves and plants. When we took a morning
walk, we swept and broke through clouds and fogs of various shapes, sizes and volumes. The
kiss of the late morning sun is relatively more intense, but at night, air-conditioners and fans are
unnecessary, thanks to the natural winter breeze, and the awe-inspiring moonlight.
Aguinaldo and His Story
Despite its simplicity, the town holds an unparalleled significance in Philippine
History. This unknown gem hidden atop Kalinga Apayao was once the capital of the first
Philippine Republic for more than 70 days when our first president, Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo, hid
here after the American government began colonizing the Philippines. His stay in Lubuagan from
March 6 to May 17, 1900 led to the discovery of this town.
In 1905, Lubuagan officially became a municipal unit of Lepanto-Bontoc, a
provincial sub-state administered by Lt. Gen E.A. Eckman. Two years later, the towns first civil
government was established, making it an official sub-province of Kalinga Apayao. However, an
epidemic of malaria and cholera broke out, which almost wiped out the towns population. Today,
Lubuagan has maintained its simple charm, but it has also adapted with the needs of
development. It has become one of the premiere tourist destinations in our country, especially
during March, when the whole town comes alive to celebrate their grandest festival.
A Mascot inside the Mabilong Weavers Village
When one visits the town during such festivities, he will be amazed with the colorful bahags (local scarf)
of native aetas from the Mabilong Weavers Village who dance to the loud beat of traditional drums and upland
bass instruments. The Mabilong Weavers Village may be located along a national road, but traveling here is as
complicated as employing ancient designs into fabric. To reach this thriving community, we embarked on a two-
hour long jeepney travel from the town proper to the village. During our journey, we were amazed with the great
formation of mountains and slopes whose unstable ground gave us the same thrill of riding a rollercoaster. We also
discovered different species of migratory birds that were only be indigenous to the ecosystem of Kalinga. For most
of my travel buddies, this free bird show was a treat which kept their heads peaking outside the jeepney windows,
but for an alektorophobic like me, this was nothing short of a punishment that kept me asking for Divine protection.
When we reached our destination, we were welcomed by the warmth of the locals who greeted us as if
we knew each other for years. I was very delighted with the warmth of the people, until one young aeta hugged me
and called me Tatay. My friends kept laughing while teasing me. Of course, I was indignant on the inside but still
managed to put a smile on my face. I just told myself that the kid would eventually leave me alone so that I can
enjoy my community immersion.
He didnt.
With the looks on his face, my presence was a treat for him. It was perhaps the closest he can get to
meeting someone the size of mascots he saw on television like Barney and Jollibee. He kept on running after me,
and even clang onto my broad shoulders like a tarsier who never wanted to let go of a tree bark.
When things were getting stressful and out of hand for me, I heard the voice of an old lady from behind,
speaking in their mother tongue with an angry tone. It was the kids mother, who according to our tour guide, told
her son to leave me alone so that I can enjoy looking at the ethnic weavers. When the kid suddenly disappeared
into thin air, I was able to appreciate the ethnic fabrics, and the colorful stories of the women who created them.
 Though I was not able to remember their names, their compelling struggles and
messages of hope struck the core of my being.
One of them was a battered wife who ran away from her abusive husband while
carrying their newborn child in the middle of the night.
Another one was the sole provider of more four children, two of which she struggled
to support until they finished their studies by weaving fabrics. Her husband went abroad to
work, but never came back.
Another one was an illiterate woman who cannot even write her name on paper, but
is considered as one of the best weavers in the community because of her precise, distinct
and intricate designs which she inherited from her mother, grandmother, and great
grandmother who were already practicing this art long before their province was
established.
No wonder, these women were able to sustain the art of traditional back strap
weaving not only with their passion but with their motivation to prove their worth as
women. They may not have a reputable career that can give them a lucrative salary, but
the women of Mabilong village no longer live on money as currency.
A Streamof Events
Below the town proper, we were invited by the townsmen to see the Fertility Stream.
The idea alone excited my women travel buddies, despite the fact that most of them have already
passed 50, separated from their husbands, and are not in a relationship. The stream was so appealing
that even one of our travel buddies, who happens to be gay, even came with our female officemates to
bathe in the mysterious stream which claimed to help thousands of women conceive.
A few minutes downtown, we saw a long stream where local women were bathing and
washing their clothes. The way their long fabrics dance with the flowing river was nothing short of
cinematic. The women sang, danced and laughed boisterously as if they lived in a perfect world.
With all excitement, my female officemates jumped into the stream. They made sure
that every part of their body was dipped under water. They were not only amazed with the icy-cold
waters of the stream, they were actually hoping that the water can help them bear a child.
My gay officemate bathed like he was starring in a sexy Ishmael Bernal film during the
70s. He will dive under water, then slowly emerge like a sexy hot chick.
Do you think bathing in the stream will help you get pregnant? I told him.
Why, is it because I do not have a womb? he replied.
No, its because you dont have a boyfriend, I answered.
Everyone was dying in laughter, when the tour guide told us that the stream where they
were bathing was not the actual fertility stream, just a segment of it.
My female officemates were stunned for almost a minute.
The End of the Journey
Before dawn breaks early Sunday, our drivers and technicians were already
calibrating our bus. Everyone felt very sad that we had to leave. By the looks of it, there was
only one happy soul in the room. Yes, I was too excited that I was the first passenger inside the
bus while everyone was still packing their things.
We left Lubuagan at 4 a.m. Most of us were still sleepy when one of the wheels
of the bus accidentally went off-road which could have made us fall into a pit. Thank God,
everyone was only half-conscious to understand what happened. The bus driver and the
technicians did everything to cheat death while everyone was clueless.
Perhaps, even if we knew, nobody would mind. We can only be too eager to
come home after three days, but we cant help but do quick bus stops and take the rare chance
of posing behind incredible rocks nestling within the mountainside, all chiseled to artistic
perfection by the Hands of God.
Lubuagan truly holds a significant chapter in the history of our country. Yet, it is
amazing how they were able to echo their unique culture from the uplands. It serves as a portal
of the early beginnings of our country, where our authentic and untainted Filipino culture is still
practiced to this day.
Sadly, this love child of tradition and development is still to find its way to the
hearts of our fellow countrymen, and eventually, find its rightful place in history books.