Kate Ryan

Alison learned from her grandmother how a plastic smile could take you places—especially in a place like Hollywood.

"No self-respecting journalist or publication would ever hire someone who employs the word 'sh--' as a title for anything."

Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.

I would send some chocolates, but I’m not allowed anymore since they found the shiv in the birthday cake I sent you.

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

Everywhere you look these days (on Instagram), beautiful pictures abound. From teacups overflowing with succulents to smoothie bowls arranged as art. All while a lavender-haired model casually eats ice cream in front of a stupidly gorgeous Tahitian sunset. All this endless beauty has become a bit dull.

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

It was a tradition of theirs. When siblings Sue and Johnny went home to their mother’s for Christmas, they watched the 11 o’clock local news.

12:48 AM. Why would someone schedule an exorcism for the middle of a weeknight?

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