8.5" x 5.5"
When your computer screen turns into a vortex and pulls your brain through a cream rainbow swirl, you’ll see the world that floats under the world of normal things. The short stories in Ryan Robert Mullen’s Naughty Sweet Boy capture the extraordinary in the ordinary.
In “Business End” and “Please Desist in Using My Skull As a Cup to Defecate In,” Mullen takes the soul-sucking monotony of the workplace and reveals the primal spirit in every one of us anaesthetized paper-pushers. Ambitious childhood imagination comes alive in “Electric Gordon” and “A Little Shinier.” The unaffected tenderness of “Actual Size” and “Passing Timebomb” shows Mullen’s capacity to peel away layers of wounds and stare directly into the fragility of human emotion.
Naughty Sweet Boy is a work of vivid craftsmanship and startlingly honesty.
About the Author Born in 1981, author Ryan Robert Mullen has been published in well over forty print magazines and electronic journals, including Diagram, nthposition, minima, Hobart, Identity Theory, First Class, and Retort. He has written the biweekly column “Danger Planet” for Get Underground since 2002. Ryan also founded Cancer Press--a small DIY publishing company. As an interviewer for Word Riot, he has worked with such authors as Neal Pollack, Kevin Sampsell, Steve Almond, and Zoe Trope. He currently works in a Learning Center founded to assist Huber inmates and the homeless obtain GED diplomas. Ryan lives in Northern Wisconsin with his wife and their little baby.
Reviews & Praise "The stories are mostly like a declassed American Dream, and I mean that in the most literal and Nyquil-addled way possible. Mullen's stuff is all short bursts of rage, conversations, clean carpets designed to look dirty in contemporary lobbies, and the occasional nine-foot long electric eel and how you mother feels about watching you watch a man get zapped by one."
-Nick Mamatas, author of Northern Gothic and 3000 Miles Per Hour in Every Direction at Once
"'it was hard now to look nonchalantly smooth while sitting on a hard bench,' writes Ryan Robert Mullen, but that’s exactly what his writing does, faking indifference while revealing a profound compassion for the figures holding up the walls of his fictions. He rubs the hard bench smooth with language and observes the blood trickling from the splinters in his palm. You should shake his hand." -Richard Eoin Nash, Soft Skull Press