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

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Siblings: Flash Fiction

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

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10 Things To Avoid If You Don't Want To Be A Hipster

There are some hipster things that hipsters want us to love, so we’ll join their cult. But we’re done falling for these things because we’re all unique individuals. Here are 10 things you need to avoid right now if you don’t want to be a hipster.

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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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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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It'll cure what ails ya.

The Only Tip You’ll Need To Survive The Holidays: Masturbate

Light some candles and use those bath salts you've been saving for a special occasion. Masturbate for 55 minutes.

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Guns And Dishtowels: Flash Fiction

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

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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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How To Make Your Tweets Actually Funny

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

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Bikini Server At The Oddball Cabaret: Flash Fiction

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

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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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