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

12 Signs You Might Have A Dog-Child

We all love our dogs. However, some of us take it a little too far, convincing ourselves that our dogs are actually our children. You call your dog your “baby” one day, and the next thing you know, you’re pushing him or her down the street in an expensive stroller. How did we get here? Trust me, it’s a slippery slope. Here are 12 signs you might have a dog-child.

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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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Siblings: Flash Fiction

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

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The Very Frustrated Hair Stylist: Flash Fiction

Alma couldn’t understand why her Yelp reviews were so dismal. She didn’t advertise herself as a magician. She was a hair stylist.

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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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Trigger Warning: Trigger Warnings Are BS

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

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Riding The Marrakesh Express: Flash Fiction

His mind rode the lines, circling on an endless loop to nowhere as he attempted to go about his activities.

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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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A Natural Alarm: Flash Fiction

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

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I’m a Writer And I Walk Dogs: The Archetypal Struggle Of The Day Job

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

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