Kate Ryan

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

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

One of my biggest fears is having a random stranger ask me, "how it’s going?" They might as well ask if I’d like to step into their van and get murdered.

Motherhood is easily the toughest, most sacred job on earth. Without moms, the human race simply wouldn’t be here. But personally, I’d rather dangle myself from dental floss over a volcano full of spiders than push another human being out of my body.

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

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.

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

My tights are cutting me in half at the waist . . . just like a sausage in its casing.

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.