By Magdalen Ng

Filipino author Miguel Syjuco was born into a rich and powerful political family in Manila. But the relentless pursuit of his writing dream meant that the 32-year-old has spent much of his adult life living in fear of not being able to pay his rent.

The years of doing odd jobs, bartending and painting apartments as he studied for his master's degree in creative writing and PhD in literature have paid off.

His debut novel, Illustrado, won him last year's Man Asian Literary Prize, the Asian equivalent of the Man Booker Prize, which comes with US$10,000 (S$14,000) prize money.

As the prize is awarded to unpublished English-language manuscripts, the book will be out only next year.

In town last month for the Singapore Writers Festival, he tells LifeStyle: 'Winning the prize does give me a certain amount of attention and now it's up to the book, whether it sinks or swims.'

Illustrado begins with the death of Filipino author Crispin Salvador, whose body is found in New York's Hudson River. Suspicious about his death, Salvador's protege returns to the Philippines to investigate.

The protagonist is named after Syjuco because he wants to blur the line between fiction and non-fiction.

'I hope that by naming the protagonist Miguel Syjuco, it will allow readers to be more engaged with the work,' he says.

Back in his homeland, the fictional Miguel examines the history and corruption in his country. It is also Syjuco's intention to challenge the status quo in the Philippines in his writing.

'It is important to point out the inequities and grievances that I see in my country, the silly things that the rich do and the hypocrisies of the politicians,' he says.

With a hint of indignation, he reveals how a politician showed up recently at a flood-stricken area to clean up drains and distribute aid when the media were there, only to promptly disappear once the media packed up and left.

Currently based in Montreal, Canada, where he lives with his German-Filipino girlfriend of six years, he knows that his work might ruffle some feathers back home.

'I am sure that some people whom I grew up with, or people in my family might feel that I have spilled the beans. In fact, my parents are a little worried. They have not seen the book,' says Syjuco, whose parents are politicians. He declines to say who they are.

He adds: 'Some doors might close, or there may be some uncomfortable moments when I am back in the Philippines but that's fine. As a writer, I try to present the truth.'

Here is a writer who is willing to walk the talk. While chasing his writing dreams, he even cut off contact with his family for a few years. For the fifth of six children in a close-knit family, it was a difficult period.

He says: 'People may say it was easy for me but it wasn't. I was worried about making rent each month and I had to deal with the loneliness of not being around friends and family.'

Initially, he studied economics at Manila's leading Ateneo de Manila University because his father wanted him to be a businessman. But he flunked out of the course because he was 'horrendous at mathematics' and switched to studying English literature.

After graduating in 2000, he worked on the now-defunct web publication localvibe.com, which focused on happenings and events in Manila. It was then that he realised the importance of writing as a craft and decided to take up a master's degree in creative writing at New York's Columbia University in 2004.

'My dad helped with paying for my master's degree at first but he wanted me back home to continue his legacy in politics, or like be the editor of New York Times,' says Syjuco.

'His expectations were sometimes at odds with the reality of how difficult it is out there in the world. I really just want to be a writer, so I had to break away.'

And he did, moving to Australia when in 2005 the University of Adelaide gave him a scholarship to study for a PhD in English literature. He wrote his award-winning novel over four years in Adelaide and Montreal.

As the scholarship money could not cover all his living expenses, he took on many odd jobs. He bartended, painted apartments and even participated in medical experiments for money.

One test investigated how infrared cameras might help with impotence. He had to lie on a table, naked from the waist down so an infrared camera could be pointed at his genitals.

'They let me watch two nature films, one pornographic film and another nature film. It paid pretty well but it was quite an odd experience,' he says. 'And I discovered some good nature films.'

Now a full-time writer, he has completed the first draft of his second novel, a meditation on the different forms of power in the Philippines, through the life of a woman who sleeps her way up the hierarchy of society.

However, he hopes to move beyond writing only about his country.

'I am Filipino, nothing else. But it does not mean that nationalism and culture should be limiting. Yes, it can be defining but it should also be liberating,' he says.

That said, he tries to go back to the Philippines at least once a year to 'renew his roots'.

'I feel guilty I am not there working for a non-government organisation or entering politics to see if I can do better than the people I speak about, but maybe this is my role.

'Living abroad does allow me a certain latitude in being able to speak my mind and each time I go back, I see things with fresh eyes. At least I hope this is the case.'

This article was first published in The Straits Times.