Kat Tyler writes messy little stories about big feelings.

Born from years spent in restaurants, crowded apartments, late-night conversations, and the closeness of New York City, her work explores the blurry space between love, loyalty, grief, and self-destruction. Her stories are filled with fragile people trying to survive themselves, friendships that turn devotional and dangerous, and the ways a life can be reshaped by what refuses to stay buried.

Drawing inspiration from city nightlife, small-town folklore, memory, and the people we mistake for home, her writing blends tenderness with chaos. Whether it’s an unraveling friendship inside a Manhattan bar, a lonely boy growing up too fast, or a town haunted by both sorrow and something lurking in the woods, her stories live in the tension between comfort and catastrophe.

She lives in Brooklyn with her dog and three-legged cat. She writes way too late at night, usually when she should be sleeping or texting someone back.