Kate Ryan

Kate Ryan

Bio

A Revolutionelle is the woman curled up in the back of a cafe, accompanied by a good book and lots of espresso. She’s the kind of girl you want to grab a beer with. She unapologetically loves the Bachelorette and Masterpiece Classic. She’s a fiend for dark chocolate, cheeseburgers, juice cleanses, milkshakes, kale, boxed wine, and whatever the hell she feels like. She goes for long walks on the beach, takes long naps on the couch, hikes through the Sierras, skinny-dips in community pools, soaks in lavender-scented bubble baths, rides mechanical bulls, or does none of those things because she does whatever the fuck she wants. She’s a tomboy, jeans-and-tshirt-wearing, girly girl, diva, fashionista, rebel rockstar, tea-drinking diplomat, hellhound motorcycle babe, spiritually-centered yogi, bookworm, historical buff, comedian, jack of all trades, all in one day.  She’s a contradiction and that’s okay. She speaks her mind. She loves herself. She’s an all-around badass motherfucker.

Kate Ryan Articles

What I Learned From Living With Five Guys

Someone would always cook in their tighty whities, his package at eye level for the person doing French homework at the kitchen table.

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A Pleasant Morning Ritual: Flash Fiction

The birds abandon their posts in the pepper trees, sending tiny, oblong leaves raining to the ground.

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Midnight Confrontation: Flash Fiction

12:48 AM. Why would someone schedule an exorcism for the middle of a weeknight?

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Trigger Warning: Trigger Warnings Are BS

Is flagging potentially offensive material taking the PC movement too far?

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Before I Die, I Hope My Blender Arrives—Fiction from Luna Luna magazine

Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.

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Flash Fiction: They'll Be Dehydrated

One crawled up the side of the bag and opened her wings, a hardtop convertible with legs.

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Everyone Hates The Tall Guy: Flash Fiction

For the record, I didn’t mean to be born so tall. I didn’t ask for bulky shoulders or a head that doesn’t fit most hats.

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Siblings: Flash Fiction

She gropes for attention while he dies in the other room.

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Bikini Server At The Oddball Cabaret: Flash Fiction

Sheila applied widely and on a whim. She needed a job and she needed one fast.

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Date Night At The Apocalypse: Flash Fiction

Surviving the Apocalypse didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy a little romance.

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