The Quiet Part Loud

“I know people say ‘so-and-so takes you places’ in blurbs all the time, but Tyler Barton really takes you places, some of which include: an exploding house, a Papa John’s Dumpster, a green house, a Ft. Lauderdale shelter, a Kentucky cemetery. It’s a hell of a trip, packed with unforgettable travel companions. I loved these pieces. I loved how they soar, loved how they made you wince and laugh and root for people even as they’re not making the best decisions. The Quiet Part Loud lives up to its sonorous title. It’s a collection stuffed with all kinds of tasty noise and skillful crescendos and moving downbeats, and it’s necessary and urgent and you should pick it up and read it right now.” 
Juan Martinez, author of Best Worst American

“A book like a jungle gym made of perfect sentences, the whole thing alive and bright and true.” 
Ben Loory, author of Tales of Falling and Flying

$12 — Flash fiction chapbook. 40 pages, 11 stories. Available from Split/Lip Press now. Published in Jan 2019, The Quiet Part Loud won the Turnbuckle Chapbook Contest.

Read a review here. And here. Or here.

“The Quiet Part Loud is precious and wild, each story sharp and twinkling. As a child I was afraid to touch glitter; what if it got in my eyes? Now, after reading this book, I know the answer: I ache, and the world sparkles.”
Lindsay Hunter, author of Eat Only When You’re Hungry 

“The Quiet Part Loud has that rare quality of looking food from every angle. The characters are memorable, the story arcs are delicate and satisfying, each word is earned, and the sentences, often pithy and vernacular, are world unto themselves. I fully expect to see sentences like, “Our life was a stick-up, and we wanted everyone’s attention, all of it, put it in the bag,” inked across chests and biceps at beaches up and down both coasts. This chapbook is for youth—its freedom and rapture but also its solipsism and cruelty. I was astonished by [the book’s] observations, which seemed both of the moment and wiser than it, with characters that raise a middle finger to their own impermanence while sensing the change that hovers. I will return to these stories that made me whisper holy shit as I read them and linger still.” 
Kara Vernor, author of Because I Wanted to Write You a Pop Song