Kate Ryan

Writing simply does for me what long walks do for small dogs; it makes me tired and happy.

She doesn’t know how to communicate the feeling that all is for nothing, nothing is normal.

Everyone wants to have the funny tweets because people equate them with wealth, power, and beauty. The problem is, we’re not all funny.

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

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

“You are the naked girl on horse, yes?” he said, approaching her table from across the café patio.

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

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

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

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