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By Constantino Tejero Inquirer MANILA, Philippines--It’s the first of its kind: A diario novela; an unheard of convergence between the Philippine Daily Inquirer and the king of “komiks” himself, Carlo J. Caparas. “To Have and to Hold” starts September 3 and every day thereafter except Sundays. Its first strip is a grabber, with frames illustrated like a movie’s storyboard. As can be gleaned from its title, it is a love story. From the first few panels the reader can discern a Romeo-and-Juliet situation between lovers Arvin and Jennifer. Caparas says he is aware that his entering the Inquirer is seeking new readers, that is, aside from his mass-based built-in readership he has to reach new ones in the corporate world, the bureaucrats’ offices, the academe, even the politicians’ lairs. He says he had thought this over -- and so in his story he has business rivalries intermeshing with personal lives; scenes shuttling from “lansangan” (streets) to mall to corporate tower to Forbes Park; dialogues fluctuating between street Tagalog and straight English with Taglish in between. Yes, we can expect poverty and injustice to be tackled soon, but first and foremost, as Caparas insists, the komiks writer’s duty is to entertain. “To Have and to Hold” will run six days a week for six months in the Inquirer, after which Caparas will follow it with a new diario novela. (Running duration may be adjusted to readers’ demand, though. After all, “Pieta” and “Kahit Ako’y Lupa,” his two longest-running komiks novels, had to be extended to four years so that circulation wouldn’t dip.) When President Macapagal-Arroyo gave in February the Presidential Medals of Merit to the five pillars of komiks -- Tony Velasquez, Francisco V. Coching, Mars Ravelo, Larry Alcala and Caparas -- it was like laying wreaths on tombs, as four of these people had already died, and so had the komiks. People who grew up on it and have become busy adults do not realize that their favorite medium of entertainment, information and instruction as youngsters had long vanished from the cultural landscape. It was mostly blamed on the entrenchment of TV culture and the Internet. In its heyday, komiks was a billion-peso industry and was said to be even bigger than the movie industry. The two coexisted for decades as their relationship was often symbiotic. But with the coming of the so-called “alternative platforms” from which to access information and entertainment, there was no way for the komiks to go but out. From an average circulation of nearly 200,000 copies a week in 1984, with half of the 200 komiks making money, it dropped to 2,000 in 2004 with only one circulating, Atlas Publication’s Pilipino Komiks. That year, the lone survivor had to close. And it wasn’t the only ailing mass medium, either. Similar signs could be seen in newspapers which were also reeling from diminishing circulation. Newspapers have since been taking various innovative measures to sell copies, short of resorting to a buy-one-take-one promo. Some do tie-ups with hamburger chains, others sponsor celebrity events. The Inquirer, true to its corporate image (resolutely A-B and Upper C readership), goes to the root of the problem and tries to solve the twin evils of illiteracy and diminishing readership. One program being held in its premises is a series of reading sessions for kids, including street children and physically handicapped kids. It aims to cultivate a new generation of readers and make reading attractive again. The Inquirer also struck on a wild idea: To bring back readership and get a broader mass base, why not run komiks stories in the paper? What’s more, the two mass mediums would be helping each other. And so the Inquirer went to Caparas. After all, the guy has written over 800 novels and short stories for komiks, and some 100 screenplays many of which he himself directed. Last Tuesday, Caparas signed a contract to write for the nation’s No. 1 newspaper what is now called a “diario novela,” with art by Arnel A. Avetria. Caparas says a commissioner from the Komisyon ng Wika has asked him to revive the komiks as it can greatly help people learn the national language. In the caravan he is doing with wife Donna Villa in the provinces, where he gives lectures and workshops on komiks writing and illustrating, he has seen how people have wanted the komiks to return. Early this year, in a reunion of komiks writers, illustrators and various former employees of the defunct industry, he learned of the plight of his colleagues who lost their jobs. “Out of 10 people na kinumusta ko, eight had already died (Out of 10 people I asked about, eight had already died),” he recalls. The Inquirer venture may prove to be a blessing in disguise. It could all at once energize various industries and mediums -- komiks, newspaper and movie. “They go hand in hand,” says Caparas. The movie industry is clearly also on a decline. But with the revival of the komiks, who knows what source materials movie directors could find to activate their art, as it once did with people like Lino Brocka and Eddie Garcia? "May foothold ang nobela sa komiks bago ipagawa sa pelikula (Novels have a foothold in comics before they become movies),” says Caparas. He means a movie based on komiks would already have a built-in readership, which could then translate into a box-office hit. And a revived industry, of course, would generate jobs. After all, the komiks has not really died. It was just in a three-year coma.