Ashley Inguanta’s “It’s End Of The World Karaoke” appeared in the May Issue. Below, Ashley speaks about how the world turns certain, fiction vs. non-fiction, and songs for the end of the world.
1. Being also in Orlando, I noticed you set “It’s End of the World Karaoke” at Big Daddy’s. How much of this is fiction versus non-fiction?
This piece is mostly fiction.
The Big Daddy’s (in the story) is the same Big Daddy’s in (for lack of a better term) real life. Only in real life, you have to order nachos from somewhere else and bring them in. Santa Claus sings; he’s a regular. And I haven’t tried a White Russian from Big Daddy’s, but if I did, it would be excellent- I guarantee it. A lot less milky than expected.
Everything else is fiction. Javier, Jonah, Lara. Cat Woman, Maryann. Those men. The DJ who can’t keep his shit straight. The smoke outside. Javier’s choice to open the door.
But really- fiction exists somewhere, someplace. Fiction exists somewhere in our world, and sometimes I just don’t know what to do with that placement of things imagined and made. Sometimes our power to create people and tell stories about them terrifies me. These stories, these people — they’re extraordinary because of the way they were born and because of the way they live: On the page, somewhere else, but (at the same time) here.
2. What would you sing at the end of the world?
“Ironic” by Alanis Morissette. Hands down.
3. Why do Russians always have to be white?
They don’t have to be. Years ago, my friend David and I imagined the Pink Russian: Pepto Bismol, Vodka, Kahlua. I’m a bit embarrassed (but also proud) to say we didn’t try it.
4. How does the world turn to something certain?
You breathe, aware that your body is controlling this breath, aware of what this means in terms of your power, your blessings, and then you understand exactly where you are. The ground feels different- more solid. Your step feels lighter. You know you can branch into any direction, and that freedom scares you, and that’s okay.
5. What do you put in the basket without fearing the hose?
Bee stingers. Tons of them. Maybe a copy of Plath’s Ariel. A strong hoof.
6. What have you done that you were afraid to do? How did it change you?
I’ve been afraid of so many things. I was afraid to learn to drive a car, to ride a horse, to train horses, to travel to LA for the first time, to share my writing, to admit I needed help when I couldn’t stop starving myself, to eventually stop starving myself, to admit relapses are okay, to come out of the closet, to kiss a girl, to lose my virginity, to go to grad school, to teach. I was afraid of performing at the Literary Death Match, traveling West alone; I was afraid to keep drinking, I was afraid to stop drinking. I am afraid of where I am now, at 26, sober and eating and out of the closet and trying to trust myself. I am afraid I’ll fail as an editor and a teacher and a writer. But I keep going. And all of this hasn’t just changed me, it’s shaped me. Change implies loss. I believe I have lost a tremendous amount, but “shape” also implies the clay is still there, solid and whole. I am grateful for the whole of things. Fear included.