MASHED Monday Author Interview: Mark Daponte
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Mark Daponte writes the story, “The Disagreeable Dinner” in our upcoming anthology, Mashed: The Culinary Delights of Twisted Erotic Horror. “The Disagreeable Dinner” is the story of a man who ate the wrong meal at the wrong time and now finds himself dealing with some supernatural consequences.
Please tell us a little bit about yourself?
I am a copy/blog writer for an advertising company in New York City. In my delusional bid to be a literary lion, I writes short stories and screenplays. I also punches up others’ screenplays—because they don’t punch back. When I’m not sinking down to a ten-year-old’s level to make my ten and thirteen-year old sons laugh, I can be found seeking signs of intelligent life in my hometown of Brooklyn, NY.
When not writing, what do you enjoy doing?
The usual American sloth-like past times: reading, binge watching “Thomas the Tank Engine,” watching/cursing at the condition of New York City’s local sports teams, trying to relive my youth by playing basketball only to live in a hospital after playing basketball and needlessly checking my e-mails for paying writing jobs.
What attracted you to submitting your story to MASHED: The Culinary Delights of Twisted Erotic Horror?
I said to myself, “Hey, Mr. Myself. I can do that!” So I dood it.
Plus, I felt a previously written “food-themed” comedy sketch I wrote could be adapted to be digestible in short story form.
For your story “The Disagreeable Dinner” what was your inspiration?
After discussing “Abbott and Costello’s” ghostly film “The Time of Their Lives” with a fellow A&C fan, I wondered if there is anywhere that a ghost hasn’t haunted. While I was sitting in a 6’ x 6’ room one morning after downing two bran muffins and three cups of coffees, one of the 62 voices in my head yelled over the others, “Hey. How about a tale of a spirit in a sphincter?”
So, if anyone doesn’t like my story, please address all irate e-mails and letters to my Head-Voice #36.
Influences:
The usual suspects: Buster Keaton, Luis Bunuel, Salvador Dalí , Marx Brothers, James Carroll, Johnny Thunders, John Waters, Bob Dylan, Tristan Tzsara etc., etc. and much more etc.’s.
When did you first discover that you wanted to be a writer?
After flunking all school courses except “English”–I had no choice!
Actually:
After receiving a “Dear John” letter from a girlfriend, I edited her letter; noting that my name isn’t John. She told me as she left my life, “You should be a writer because you’re not a human!” I took her advice and ran-walked with it.
Who are your favorite authors?
Charles Bukowski, Lorrie Moore, Mark Twain, Michael Maltese, James Carroll, Gary Larsen, James Thompson, and a ton more.
What are your favorite books?
Top 5: “Catch-22,” “A Clockwork Orange,” “The Killer Inside Me,” “The Basketball Diaries,” and “Letters from the Earth.”
What films or books have most influenced you as an author?
Films: Top 5: “Dr. Strangelove,” “The Searchers,” “The General,” “What’s Opera Doc?” “Duck Soup” etc. etc.
Outside of Horror, what other genres do you write in?
Comedic (short and full-length) screenplays.
What is the first book that made you cry?
The first book I wrote was a sob story because I received tear-inducing rejection slips.
On Writing:
How do you describe your writing style?
My style is outlining a story then constantly rewriting it as I fight off bouts of self-doubt.
What advice would you give to new writers just getting started?
I’d spout the cliché: “Work, work, work at it by finding time to work, work, work at it!” Translation: have rich parents to emotionally and financially support you while you pursue your creative endeavors.
What part of writing do you find the most difficult?
Writing the two words “The End” and being satisfied with the words before a story’s ending.
What story are you most proud of?
The one in in MASHED and the one I haven’t written… yet.
What do you hope your readers take away from your stories?
A hearty chuckle or at least half-of a guffaw.
Write a 6 word story, GO!
An after dinner ass possession sing-along.
Is there anything else you’d like your fans to know?
I play a mean tambourine.
Where else on the internet can you be found?
Facebook
And now, here’s a special preview of Mark’s story in MASHED!
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The Disagreeable Dinner
Will Fasso walked into his kitchen to see his wife, Susan, wearing a bathrobe, a long face and bags under her blue eyes. He opened the curtains to let sunlight in and noticed that their local TV weatherman was finally right.
“Look! It really did snow three feet last night!” Will exclaimed. “Hurray! Now we won’t have to go and visit your parents!”
“You know the roads will be cleared by the afternoon.”
“Unfortunately, I do know. We’ll dig the car out after breakfast.”
“I’m way too tired to dig,” Susan replied.
“Oh no. Was it because I was talking in my sleep — again?” Will asked.
“I wish you were talking. At 3 AM, you were singing in your sleep!”
Will walked to the refrigerator and removed a half-gallon of orange juice.
“Did I at least sing on key?”
“Nope. You ‘sang’ ‘Oye Como Va.’”
“That’s weird,” Will said as she yawned and he twisted opened the orange juice. “We’ve known each other for twenty years and I never talked or even hummed while I slept. Now, that makes that—God, how many nights in a row have I woke you up?”
“You started yapping in your sleep two nights ago, hon,” she said.
“Now I’m singing at 3 AM!? Maybe it was something I ate.”
“Hmm. Could be. You know, it all started after we went out for Mexican food.”
“It did. I—”
Will shivered as if he was just shoved into a closet-sized freezer.
“Th-th-at’s weird. I’m f-f-f-reezing. Maybe it really was something in that f-f-f-f-f-f-ood.”
Susan stood and looked closer at his now pale face.
“What’s wrong?”
“I-I feel weird… bloated… gassy… Excuse me. This isn’t going to sound or smell pretty.”
Will stood and lifted his right leg to release gas. His bathrobe moved like a flag getting hit by a violent gust of wind. Then he and Susan heard a male’s voice sing.
“Oye como va, toledo. Bien como sa.”
Susan laughed and said, “You can throw your voice so it comes out of your ass? Talk about a marketable talent.”
“But that voice wasn’t mine! Who-who-said that?”
“I’m right behind you, muchacho,” the voice answered.
Susan ran behind Will and hopelessly looked for the voice’s owner. She lifted his bathrobe only to see his backside.
“Show yourself!” she demanded.
“Put your right hand high in the air, senorita.”
Susan obeyed.
“It’s in the air. Now what?”
“Slowly lower that muy bonita hand, senorita.”
As Susan’s hand lowered, the voice said: “You’re getting warm… warmer… warmest to me!”
Susan’s hand rested and covered Will’s butt. A muffled voice then cackled:
“Get your hand off me! Help! Policia! I’m getting muy pawed!”
Susan’s palm covered her opened mouth as she gasped. “Honey! Your butt just vibrated when that guy talked! Unless… were you using my vibrator in the privacy of our home and you had an, uh, a sexual misadventure?”
“Of course not!! Just w-w-ho are you in me?” a frightened Will asked.
“A ghost on crack. Perdone. I should say a ghost in your crack.”
“What are you doing inside my husband?” Susan asked.
Thanks for joining us for #MASHEDMONDAYS, Find the rest of Mark’s story and more sensually sinister tales inside MASHED: The Culinary Delights of Twisted Erotic Horror
Find more #MASHEDMONDAY Author Interviews here!
