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

Confessions Of An Uber Driver: Passengers Say the Darnedest Things

As an Uber driver, I have the privilege of talking to and eavesdropping on a sampling of L.A.’s finest, ranging from the clinically insane to the simply self-absorbed. As a writer, there is no end to the amount of inspiration my passengers provide.

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Flash Fiction: A Restless Night On Earth

Like booster engines emptied of fuel, my limbs become disposable, useless tanks as the blood rushes from them.

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Grandparents Camp: Flash Fiction

My parents got the idea they’d send me to stay at my grandparents’ house in Florida for a week. I think my mother needed a week to herself.

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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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A Natural Alarm: Flash Fiction

I have no choice but to start all over again, tomorrow or not at all.

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Why Maps To The Stars Is Everything Wrong With Hollywood

Hollywood continues to flounder in a dick-sucking frenzy of self-congratulatory white male directors, writers, and producers.

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How To: Kill Your Boyfriend’s Boner in 10 Seconds or Less

We’ve all been there. Your boyfriend has a raging boner, but you’re just not in the mood to do anything with it. But how do you tell him to tone that boner down and quick? No need to worry. Here are ten simple, foolproof ways to kill that boner in ten seconds—or less—while keeping your man’s ego rock-hard.

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Lizard People: Flash Fiction

She got too high while watching The Bachelor and had a misanthropic breakdown.

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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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Conversation With A Faucet: Flash Fiction

She couldn’t imagine the water she sat in, the water that enveloped her body, wanted to be here.

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