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

Touching Down: Flash Fiction

LAX, on the other hand, seemed like a perfect place to pick up the latest deadly virus.

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Seahorse Man: Flash Fiction

He thought I was mad, but in an artistic way; I thought he was horny all the time, but in an artistic way.

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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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A Natural Alarm: Flash Fiction

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

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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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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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Date Night At The Apocalypse: Flash Fiction

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

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It's Not Funny: Flash Fiction

“Don’t you smash that cake in my face, or I’ll never forgive you,” she said, and she never did, not really.

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Guns And Dishtowels: Flash Fiction

Okay, so maybe she didn’t really understand feminism.

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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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