I have come to accept, at the age of thirty-five, that I am a bit odd. I write stories about talking dinosaurs, OCD-afflicted con men, women who tie up men for their own edification, and artificial-organ repossessions. Strangely enough, I’ve still got a lot of friends and business associates who choose to speak with me on a regular basis. This is my chance to thank them for sticking around.
The Repossession Mambo, as a whole, wouldn’t be what it is without my very good friend and co-screenwriter Garrett Lerner. Similarly, I don’t know if or when this book would have made its way into your grubby little hands without the continual support of Miguel Sapochnik, our tireless and talented film director. I could go on about Garrett and Miguel—and I will, if you’ll just flip ahead and check out the essay titled “The Taming of the Mambo” following these pages. Go on, we’ll wait for you.
As always, eternal love and gratitude to my wife, Sabrina. We’ll have been together for eighteen years and married for more than thirteen by the time this book comes out, and the sheer fact that she still thinks I’m funny proves we’re meant to be together. I literally couldn’t tie my shoes without her (especially on days when my back is acting up), and I honestly can’t remember what life was like without her. In a good way.
One day, when they’re much, much, much older, I’ll let my amazing, beautiful, and currently innocent girls Bailey (age eight) and Chloe (age two) read this book. It’s not that I’m worried they’ll try and reenact any of the scenes within; I simply don’t want to be responsible for any more years of future therapy than I already am. So far as they know, Daddy is the silly man who sings songs, tells stories, and loves them more than anything. They don’t yet need to know he’s also the guy who writes gleefully about liver extractions. Someone’s bound to tell ’em soon enough. Playground chatter and all that.
Mad props to my parents, Manny and Judi, and I expect they’re now running to the urban dictionary to find out what “mad props” means and learning that I’m at least five years behind the times in my slang. Their support has been constant since the very beginning of my career (and long before said career took off). If I could fault them for anything, it’s for raising me in an overly functional manner; writers are supposed to be much more neurotic than I am. It’s a bit of a problem. Perhaps I could be neurotic about my lack of neuroses. I’ll have to look into that.
Thanks to my editor, Jennifer Brehl, who’s clearly as weird as the rest of us for getting involved with this in the first place. When it came time to find someone who would understand the book as a book, and not just as an ancillary product to a film already in production, Jennifer was the one who stepped up and stood out. I’m honored to be working with her, and hope to do so again in the future.
Shout-out to all my agents at Endeavor—Brian Lipson (novel-to-film rights), Richard Abate (book), Phil D’Amecourt (film), Becka Oliver (foreign), and Hugh Fitzpatrick (TV). A lot of agents, I know, but they’re all wonderful, and they all work so nicely together. It’s like a well-oiled machine wearing a very expensive suit.
Further on the film front, thanks to Valerie Dean, who had faith in the project when it was just a messy script making the rounds. She’s got impeccable taste, and I know that when Val’s interested in something, there’s a damned good reason for it. Thanks to Scott Stuber, uber-producer of the film, who took a risk with an odd, odd project and shepherded it through the Byzantine processes of a giant corporate-owned studio, and to Jon Mone, our co-producer, who believed in the project from day one and was on set every day in Toronto, pinky-toe frostbite or no.
Finally, thanks to my other collaborators, close friends all, who have put up with my roller-coaster life during the Mambo craziness and understood while I put our joint projects on hold during this process. Dan Ewen, Brian Feinstein, Ian Goldberg, and Jordan Roter are all incredibly creative and talented people who keep me on my toes, and I can’t wait to get back to work with all of them. Just give me another couple of months, guys, I swear…