Matt Pelicano

Chidren's Book Author, Young Adult Novelist,
Adult Fiction Writer, Poet, Musician, Public Speaker

Matt Pelicano

Writer, Poet, Musician, Speaker

About Matt Pelicano

Chidren's Book Author, Young Adult Novelist, Adult Fiction Author, Poet, Musician, Public Speaker

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Matt Pelicano was born near Syracuse, New York and by age 10 was already writing poems, lyrics, music, and stories. At the age of 17, Matt published his first compilation of poetry, followed by a second a year later. At age 18, Matt’s poetry was featured with a centerfold spread in the New York Span and numerous inclusions in the monthly poetry journal, Omnific. One of Matt’s children’s books, Philbert LaRue had a Hole in his Shoe, has been compared with the works of Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein. 

Matt's latest novel targets a middle school-aged (and older!) audience. The result of almost two years-worth of onsite research and set in Paris, France, A Butterfly in Paris is an adventure story, a travel guide, and a French language primer all rolled into one!

One of Matt's children’s novels, Tabouli: The Story of a Heart-Driven Diabetes Alert Dog, seeks to raise awareness of diabetes alert dogs and the vital work they perform, while encouraging those suffering with juvenile diabetes to always “follow the adventure” and live life to the fullest. 

Recommended by world-renown dog trainer, Debby Kay, “Tabouli perfectly captures the spirit and journey of a remarkable service dog.” Tabouli was nominated for three awards by the Dog Writer’s Association of America. 

Matt has received nationwide media attention for his writing. Some of this press coverage can be viewed in the Media section of this website.

From his youth, Matt has always loved the poetry of E.E. Cummings, Shel Silverstein, TS Eliot, Walt Whitman, Robert Frost, and William Shakespeare. His literary heroes include JRR Tolkien, CS Lewis, Oscar Wilde, Agatha Christie and David McCullough.

Matt has three grown children — Andy, Joey and Megan — and splits his time between South Carolina and France.


Media & Reviews

Chidren's Book Author, Young Adult Novelist, Adult Fiction Author, Poet, Musician, Public Speaker

Reviews

Review of A Butterfly in Paris
by Suzy Davies, Children's Author & Poet

Fall 2020

"The world-building in this book is superb, and it comes from the author spending six months in Paris to research the factual background to the story.

"As I read, I felt a deep, atmospheric sense of place. There was a great feeling of "point of view" throughout, and the idea that a city is interpreted through the unique vision of the eyes of the beholder."

Click to Read the Rest on Amazon.com

“Matt has so perfectly captured the joys, tribulations, and lessons this team experienced in a wonderful children’s story. You will cheer for Tabouli, cry with him, and want to hug him for being such a remarkable dog; giving unselfishly, not just once for his owner, but over and over again.”

“Tabouli is a great book! I enjoyed reading it and I feel it truly captures the essence of the little red dog. It is a warm and loving story of family bonds and determination to fight and win even when the odds are stacked high against Tabouli and his young owner.

"We are delighted, saddened and educated by this amazing tale!

"A 5-star rating!”

“In reading Matt Pelicano’s book, Tabouli, the picture he paints with words echo’s atmosphere, rhythm and emotion. He brings to life the mind of a dog and the minds of the people who surround him. Not only is this a fabulous read for any age, it also sends a message about the true worth and meaning of a service dog, which many people don’t understand.

"This book highlights the trust, empathy, and wisdom at work between Tabouli and Elizabeth, with great focus on loyalty and mutual respect.

"Congratulations, Matt on a job well done!”

“Today is a very good day -- for I have just finished reading Matt Pelicano's latest book TABOULI. If you love dogs you must read this book; if you love your family you must read this book; if you have ever lost someone you must read this book -- and finally; if you believe in the resiliency of the human spirit you must read this book!

"In an attempt to bring awareness to those in need of Alert dogs Pelicano has achieved that and much more. The unwavering trust based on love between dog and human is indisputable and this is proven again in this story but beyond that TABOULI demonstrates the exquisite beauty of family love that carries us through grief, disappointment, and fear. I was moved to tears of both joy and sadness as the Vaughan family deals with the challenges that any one of us might face.

"Matt Pelicano has written a truly beautiful book. It is a book that might be described as a story about the best parts of the human condition. The Vaughan family reacts to their new puppy this way: "It was as if they'd found something precious, without even knowing they'd been searching." My thoughts exactly about this book!”

Philbert LaRue had a Hole in his Shoe by Matt Pelicano begins with Philbert deciding to ignore the hole in his shoe. As the hole gets larger and larger, Philbert plugs it with his shirt, his cap and his belt, even the pot his plants were in. Nothing works. Had he fixed his shoe properly when he discovered the problem, Philbert would have been fine. But the hole gets larger, and Philbert finds himself in a terrible situation.

"Pelicano uses Seuss-like rhymes to create a delightful children's book with a message even little ones can learn: Take care of your problems when they are still small. My nieces and grandchildren laughed, finished the rhymes, and wanted me to read it again.

"You will find Pelicano's book a delight---and you'll agree with Philbert: "If I'd properly fixed it/when first it was small/I would sooner have found/ I'd no problem at all."

"A delightful and hilarious book about the dangers of taking shortcuts in life. I don't know what I loved more -- Matt Pelicano's Seuss-like rhymes or Ashley Spikings' perpetually surprised sun.

"Philbert LaRue is a fun and funny character!"

“What a delight to read Matt Pelicano’s wonderful children’s story, “Philbert LaRue had a Hole in his Shoe.” It is a story with a playful rhyme and an engaging rhythm. I started to giggle as soon as I read the title and never really stopped until I reached the end.

Pelicano’s point is made perfectly clear: that when we put off fixing a small glitch it can turn into a big problem.

This story is a marvelously fresh approach to learning a very important lesson. Philbert LaRue does indeed rue the day he decides not to fix the hole in his shoe! A must read for adults and children alike.”

"I wondered why I was chosen to review this children’s book. Then I remembered the pair of shoes (one with a hole) that have been riding around in the backseat of my car for months now. LaRue’s plight literally touched my sole.

"Matt Pelicano authors this delightful tale, echoing Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein in his playful use of verse. Lines like, “He sat there just shivering in the cold autumn air; with his shirt in his shoe and the rain in his hair; with his hat on his toes and his saggy old pants; and a pot on his foot, from his favorite plants” will enthrall small listeners.

"How does Philbert get into these predicaments? Children may not understand the phrase, “A stitch in time saves nine,” but they will be able to anticipate disaster for Philbert with each new crazy method he employs. His hilarious mishaps will hopefully help them learn to search for more sensible solutions.

"Illustrator Ashley Spikings cleverly includes an observant sun, a companion cat, and other concerned creatures, keeping children engaged on every page. This is a great read-a-loud for youngsters who like to laugh and adults who love the sounds of children’s laughter."

My Poetry

Chidren's Book Author, Young Adult Novelist, Adult Fiction Author, Poet, Musician, Public Speaker

Now let me pause and set aside the evening
drawing a breath to blow the clouds away,
the moon away,
the stars, the earth and the sky away,
‘til all that remains are the trees and the wind

- and your eyes, my love, and mine

With no rain to stain your cheeks
and no moon to clothe your silhouette
only the trees
(to lend their leaves)

and the wind
(to play its song)

- and your eyes, my love, and mine

The Yeah-buts, I-Know-buts, the Can’ts and the Couldn’ts
Are not quite the same as the Oughtn’ts or Shouldn’ts
They lead to I-Didn’t, but could’ve and should’ve
If only the Yeah-buts had let me, I would’ve

One day I decided to try it
I’d been thinking about it so long

By now I was perfectly certain
That it couldn’t be naughty or wrong
I needed to know where it all went
To the sea or a tank in the ground

I took a deep breath, then I jumped in
And I flushed myself all the way down!

I stood in the rain
from morning ’til night.
I started to shrink
and my skin grew tight.

My shoes got flooded;
my fingers, wrinkly.
My arms and legs
were all cold and tingly

My mom said, “Child,
come in out of the rain!
You will catch your death!”

I had to explain
that, at last, I knew
what it’s like to be
a great and wonderful
towering tree.

I remember how it was…
(so like the faceless stirring of an autumn moon carefully making its way through colored leaves to kiss you on the forehead of your drowsy smile)

I remember how it was…
(to touch your softness with my clumsy eyes and hold you in the gaze of my frail-sighted heart as the autumn breeze ran her fingers through my mind)

I remember how it was…
(so long ago, you and I; and time was younger then; love more pure in her stride; and autumn but a child of an early spring’s summer lover)

And I remember how it was…
(that you so soon had forgotten
and love has grown old)
and I, too, have aged into winter.

I wish I had a box of zeros
I’d spend them liberally
I’d share them with my friends and family
Hold nothing back for me

I’d add them to the end of numbers
These useful, helpful nils
I’d add one each to stacks of hundreds
And two to dollar bills

I’d multiply them by the sadness
Which hides in human hearts
Reducing all to fresh new zeros
And hopeful, fresh new starts

For, if I kept my zeros for me
And, kindness failed to show
The world would be a much lesser place
And nothing’s all I’d own

Step lightly, child
the ground is tired
with memory, deep and wide
of every lifetime ever lived,
of every life that's died.

Be silent, child,
for they still hear
our trembling through the ground;
the flick'ring of eternal flames;
each soft and subtle sound.

Be still, my child,
embrace with awe
the truth of every man:
he walks but once upon this earth
and ne'er is seen again.

Wormester Wormerly
and Grumpkin Demure

Were never, assuredly
Certainly sure

Of who, what or wheredly
Either one went

Or, when they were wordy,
What either one meant

But somehow, apparently,
Wormester knew,

(despite her demurring,
the Grumpkin did, too)

that who, what and where
weren’t nearly as fair

as when Grumpkin
and Wormester
both could be there.

If I were the smallest bird
on the highest branch
of the tallest tree,
would you sit with me?
would you sing with me?

If we could see sun and clouds
and the bluest sky
and below us, leaves,
would you stay with me?
spend the day with me?

If life were a pleasant dream,
or a flower, fair,
by rippling stream,
would you dream with me?
dream this dream with me?

“Why is it called Spring?” she asked,
with a certain something in her step.

From my window I could see
A line where the sky tumbles into the sea
Where the mountains bump snuggly against the clouds
And the sunrises set, as the world turns ‘round

I followed it down to the world’s own edge
Expecting to find a precipitous ledge
But the ground rolled onward and always away
Rolling evening to nighttime, morning to day

I pursued as fast as my feet could follow
Under leaf and tree, over hill and hollow
Through the faerie field, with its flowers of gold
But I ne’er caught up, ever onward it rolled

Perhaps it flows like the untamed deep
And jumbles and jimbles into a great heap
And climbing atop, one might see from this mound
That the earth assuredly, is certainly round.

I used to think,
“Maybe, if one day, just someday.”

But then I thought, “Who knows
where all of the time goes?

“When waiting; and watching;
and wanting; and wandering

“were really just stopping;
and stalling; and squandering.

“And ‘maybe ifs, one days,’
and worse yet, vague ‘somedays’

“are all better lived out
as Monday-through-Sundays.”

I’d marry merry Mary, now
If only I were Abel
‘Cause Abel would be able, now
If not for his girl, Mabel
For Mabel had been dating Ben
But Ben was too contrary
And I am so unAbel, now
And Abel’s dating Mabel, now
And Ben is too unstable, now
I guess I’ll stay unMaryed

Not so, my love, not so.

When eagles fall
and stars are few,

I will have just begun
To show my love for you.

If the blue sky turned green
And the green grass turned blue
Would you walk upside down
And pretend nothing’s new?

Would the flowers be birds
And the trees, thunderclouds
And the forest, a storm
Made of leaves upping down?

Would the sunrise bring night
And the sunset, new day
’Til we made up our minds
Things were normal this way?

I didn’t lose my hair
It’s still the same amount, up there
My head just got too large for it
to cover all the bare.

I refuse to live
In a world without love
In an ocean of sorrows
Overflowing, thereof

In an age of ungiving
In a time of unknowns
Where a neighbor’s a stranger
Living sadly alone

Where a life has no meaning
And a soul has no worth
But to live in the shadows
From the moment of birth

I refuse and reject it
And so clearly, I see
That to reshape the world
Must begin here with me

I hear the language of the trees
Wooden echoes of creaking words
Leafily lilting on a blossom breeze
I hear the language of the trees

I’ve heard the secrets of the wood
Sung to me from the beaks of birds
I’d gladly share them, if only I could
I’ve heard the secrets of the wood

I’ve seen where shades and shadows dance
To rhythmic chords of fifths and thirds
Exquisitely staged, leaving naught to chance
I’ve seen where shades and shadows dance

In Faerie Fields and Killoughee
Far north of the wild Goughlin Grugh
From the Perigoh to the Great Sault Sea
They all whisper their rhymes to you

I heard it on the telephone
and thought, how curious it is
that “this call may be recorded
for training porpoises.”

I always try to be helpful
and speak as clearly as I can.
I made sounds I was sure that a
porpoise would understand.

The porpoise on the telephone
didn’t seem to understand me.
I guess that I was talking to
a new porpoise trainee.

Speak in silent actions
Cast aside imperfect words
Show me what I need to hear
And let your silence be heard
Love me if your love be true
And love be all I need
Let me only follow you
And you alone shall lead

With infinite everyones, an infinite you
Is uniquely special, this much is true.

Leave the trees, please
Leave the forests
Let the bees be
For the florists
Let the leaves peep
For the tourists
Leave the trees, please
Leave the forests

Keep the seas clean
For the fishes
All that gleams green
All that squishes
All the dreams dreamed
All their wishes
Keep the seas clean
For the fishes

Of all we see
Be not users
Be a trustee
Be a steward
Soon we’ll just need
Less and fewer
Then we’ll all be
Caring doers

O possum, O possum
All dead on de road
What was it done hit you?
Ain’t nobody knowed

Might been a green tractor
Or maybe a car
Whatever done hit you
Done hit you real har’

O possum, O possum
Struck down in de night
I hope d'it was painless
And brought you no fright

I hope dat de headlights
They blinded yo’ eyes
I hope dat de engine
Done muffled your cries

O possum, O possum
All dead on de road
I wished’d dat driver
Had drivered more slow

I fell when I tripped;
when I slid when I slipped;
and I flew when I flipped,
then I landed.

Embarrassed, I stumbled;
I tipped, and I tumbled;
I looked around, humbled
and frantic.

The people around me,
they laughed when they found me.
But, I exclaimed, proudly,
“I meant it!”

If there’s no such place as Away,
it might be a mistake to throw things there.

It’s hard to rip off a paper towel using just one hand.
The same is true of toilet tissue, much more in demand.

I’ve seen attempts that tried and failed.
You know you’ve tried before.

You pulled too fast,
You spun the roll,
It unrolled on the floor.

I slipped on my sock
and my big toe popped out
through a hole in the worn-out wool weave

And, wouldn’t you know it,
I’ve no thread to sew it,
but it makes such a comfortable sleeve.

I drew a dot, and no one noticed it at all.
I drew a circle, and I ended up where I began.
I drew a line, and it went on forever.

Oh, to be
the highest leaf
on the tallest tree.
What dreams my eyes would see.

iKeep my nose inside my phone
iLive within a screen

iWalk through crowded streets, alone
iUsed to laugh and dream

iOnce read books, instead of Nooks
iOnce rejoiced to know

the friends outside my selfie lens
iAm, at last, iPhone

Could it be the trees are pleased

to stand with their toes beside the stream;
to wander the wood in thought and dream;

or, misunderstood, strive to be seen;
just one in a forest of trees?

I tried and I failed
And the world laughed at me.
They all went on laughing,
While I learned to be
A man whose mistakes
Taught him all that he knew.
In a world of mistakes,
That’s what smart people do.

If I were a pirate, sailing the seas
I’d plunder all sadness, take captive disease
I’d steal away anger, I’d steal away pain
I’d steal away hunger again and again
If I were a pirate with ship and a crew
I’d set sail to kindness, inviting you, too.

I can’t find my hair anywhere.
There’s no proof, but my youth,
That I’m telling the truth,

But my head wasn’t always this bare.

Imagine this, if you will…

Borkles kerspiegling in the sands of the sunny moon
Curzlers curzling in the heat of the afternoon
Mortrolls dervigle, when they’re given half a chance
and they’re always pestrelling Borkles by putting pests in their pants

Kerspiegling is done by many Borkles of the moon;
And is similar in style to Pelimackerel’s form of Oon
One small variation sets kerspiegling apart;
Oon is so barbaric, while kerspiegling’s an art

Curzlers will curzle where they’d never be found,
and quickly discurzle when they hear the slightest sound
But it’s usually only a Birdzlesaur or two or three
Hunting Edibilia in the Sea of Tranquility

Mortrolls think they’re free to dervigle where and when they please
But, dervigling has been outlawed since the early ‘70s
So, they simply pestrel Borkles, for pestrellery’s no crime
But, it really is annoying being pestrelled all the time

Mortrolls and Curzlers and kerspiegling Borkles, too
Pestrel, dervigling, Pelimackerel’s form of Oon
Strange that these creatures are parading inside your head
It’s plain to see, and who could deny, you’ve imagined it, like I said

Fish eye view of the undersea world
Reveals criminal acts at hand
Lone shark’s stalking an oyster’s pearl
And makes off with the contraband

Urchins break down the coral reef door
And set the building ablaze
Sea horse gallops the ocean floor
In search of a place to graze

Watercolor paintings hang in the hall
Of the starfish celestial home
Clams are awaiting a little rainfall
To wash them back through the foam

Swordfish challenge each other to duel
But never harbor ill will
Young fish spending their days in school
Learning ‘til they’re filled to the gill

Lazy whale naps on his king-size sea bed
While lobsters avoid the main course
Shark always keeps himself very well fed
But never feels the remorse

Cool blue tide washes over the scene
And chases them all away
Down below the mood is serene
As the sun sets over the bay

Where Woolems wandered, west of Wehrle,
and ambled airy Averlune,
there lived a lovely little girl
with hair of golden June.

She swam the Sault Sea, sun and smile,
while blossom-breezes briskly blew
the Inns of Inidyllique Isle
and glens of Goughlin Grugh.

Fair flowers of the Faerie Fields
she plaited into petalled pearls.
Her youth and yearning yet would yield
a crown for golden curls.

And dancing sweet while dolphins dream
in undulating undertow,
she jumped and jimbled by the stream
where fern and fennel grow.

For, as a minstrel maiden, mild
who told the Tale of Trinket Trove,
she chirped and cheeped, the chatter-child,
through Cor McCrumblin Cove.

Her voice it vaulted down the vale
like kitebirds over Killoughee,
but faint and quiet, over quail
that slept beside the sea.

For rippling ran her rhymes like rain:
a zillion zigzag, zipping words
‘xplored ‘xcitedly, ‘xclaimed
to squirrels and hummingbirds.

Far north of Narrow Nook there run
the horses of the Hyland herds.
And ere the evening ebb is done,
and ere the morning’s stirred,

she’d often, out on Orchard Knoll,
in hazel heather’s golden grain
enfold, embracing every foal,
her face in flowing mane.

And where the Woolems wander, wild
and where the western winds did blow
there sang this wise and wistful child
who made fair wonders grow.

Be me, child
And I’ll be you
Walk a while, child
Inside my shoes

Then you’ll know, child
All I can do
I’ll have learned, child

So much of you.

I crossed an ocean just to see your smile
To sit and listen to your heart a while
To learn your secrets, uncover your mind
To share a whisper, and hold captive time

To finally embrace what my heart desires
And reshape myself in your ageless fires
I crossed an ocean just to be alone
Alone in you in this hidden home

I give to receive it
I say it to hear it
I long just to feel it
and know that it’s true

I look, just to see it
I scarcely conceive it
and yet, I believe it,
the answer is you.

The Wigglewumps, the Gigglethumps
the Squeakysquawks and Bumblers
All went to tea beside the sea
With Mumble-ers and Grumblers

With crumpet cakes and frosted flakes
They drank their tea with honey
And passed the news, and shared their views
Beneath a blue sky, bonny

But soon a storm blew black and warm
The sea did roil and tumble
And through the bay it swept away
The Mumble-ers and Grumblers

The Wigglewumps, they squirmed and jumped
Atop their floating table
While on the rocks the Squeakysquawks
Clung tight as they were able

To save their friends from watery ends
The Bumblers tried to reach them
But, being dim, forgot to swim
So, wind and tide just beached them

Where, on the shore with cakes galore,
The Gigglethumps sat, eating
Without lament, and quite content
They watched the tide receding

Andy never met a something,
a this-or-that, or anything
he didn’t end up turning
into new and int’rest-things.

Unfriend, Unfollow
Unlike, Unshare
Misunderstanding
Caught unaware
Unknow, the reason
I’m in despair
Somehow, I lost an
Unfriend somewhere.

Together is better than all else I know
It’s better than sunshine, it’s better than snow
It’s better than me and it’s better than you
For when we’re together, we make something new

She walks her twilight through my evening
…moonlight amidst a sweltering sound
The fragrance of impatient silence descends
…a mist of gentle sound

She reaches through the windy darkness
…with long and slender, delicate sighs
And within a fragment of forever
…I capture a glance from her stealing eyes

She whispers tiny, breathless kisses
…that blossom into snowy skies
Eclipsing the moon with crystal breezes
…bidding the fallen leaves, “Arise!”

When did I, in so many cautious words, tell you
through one stormy midnight’s lunar dawning
how beautiful (in a word) and calmly stirring
(to make it three) your eyes repeat the words
your fragile heart has conceived and whispers
them soft and quietly
to me?

Or whenever did I say, in such honesty and truth
as to clothe my very words in warm sincerity,
how your hands (in gentle elegance) hold me
cupped and close to you as a secret
sought by many, known
to few?

And when did I say, through a single crimson rose,
that my love is but a fragrant wind
that brews into a storm
and that words are meant to be left
unspoken?
For being held so close to you
to speak would be to falter
and no cautious words
(however applied)
could find a                        And how
thing to                  (if ever I could)
alter.              could I have ever neglected
            to tell you all these things and
      (doubtless) many, many more?
So now (now so cautiously) I say to you,
my precious one, all the words that I have
never said before.

Thou hast eyes, my love,
(‘Tis no surprise to thee)

But thine eyes, my love,
Are a raging storm at sea

        Black with the might of
        dark thundering skies
        and azure
        (the shade that is only your eyes)

Yes, thou hast eyes, my love,
(You, too, can plainly see)

But thine eyes, my love,
are eyes just for me.

“If I fall asleep now
I’ll get 8 hours of sleep
But first, I have
Episodes that I’d like to see.”

So, I sat, and I gazed
At the screen from my chair
Eating Pringles with cheese dip
And twirling my hair.

Until hours had passed
Just how many, unknown,
But my bedtime and sleep time
Had sure been postponed.

“If I fall asleep now,
I’ll get 2 hours,” I said.
“But tomorrow I’ll feel like
The walking undead.”

So, determined to sleep,
I laid down and I tried,
And I tried and I tried,
As the hours went by.

And I thought to myself,
“If to sleep I could fall,
I would sleep all day long
And tonight, not at all.”

A man, whom I once knew,
had all the best baubles.
He endlessly purchased,
consumed and he gobbled.

He kept on collecting,
he kept on stockpiling
He’d see it, he’d want it,
He’d soon end up buying.

All wrapped up and tangled
in squanderly pretense,
his mind was all dollars,
but not enough sense.

There’s a cat in every room
of my tiny, little house.
There’s no room for dogs, or birds, or fish,
and no room for a mouse.
There is cat fur on the floor below,
and on the floors above.
There’s no room in my house at all
for anything but love.

Poulie and Gaby
and Sunny and Omelet

Sat high on their perch, one day
While, further below,
An interesting show
Played out in the barnyard hay

A kitten had come
Just to lay in the sun
And to watch the brood, above
To keep them all free
From predators’ teeth
For such is a kitten’s love

Seer shilliness
Nutter onsense
Babboonery, Fribbolity
Tomsurdity, Abfoolery
It’s odd to be, Forsuredly
A fly on the wall
Inside of me

I always thought you’d be here with me
I always thought you’d stay
I took for granted time spent with you
And wasted it all away

I never thought death’s hand could touch you
I never thought I’d cry
I knew you couldn’t live forever
But I never thought you’d die

I had so many things to tell you
I had so much to do
And though I know I never said it
I will always love you

Perhaps it is sadness
Rather than coldness
Maybe it’s fear
that keeps her away

Perhaps it’s just too much
Instead of some madness
Maybe it’s best
not to judge her this way

I feel old in my body,
but young in my soul,
and younger still in my dreams.

There’s no D in hippopoTamus
and no I in anonYmous.
There’s a K in unKnown
and the two are synonymous.

It’s not tough to spell stough
by just sloughing off -uff.
Adding o-u-g-h
really is just enuff.

There are times when I’m -able
and times when I’m -ible
but it’s hard to know when.
I guess I’m just unible.

My Music

Chidren's Book Author, Young Adult Novelist, Adult Fiction Author, Poet, Musician, Public Speaker

My Books

Chidren's Book Author, Young Adult Novelist, Adult Fiction Author, Poet, Musician, Public Speaker

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  • Ages 4 - 7
  • $15.95, includes shipping
Ships December 15th: Humphrey the Lazy Hummingbird

Humphrey the Hummingbird’s friends think he’s lazy. He doesn’t join them in their hard work of gathering food for the winter. Instead, Humphrey spends his days humming songs from his branch high above the meadow.

But, as the day grows hotter and their work grows harder, the other animals begin to notice something surprising — something that makes them think that maybe Humphrey isn’t so lazy, after all.

Humphrey the Lazy Hummingbird is a heartwarming story proving that we all have a unique gift. When shared with others, our unique gifts can lighten their loads and brighten their days.

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  • Ages 14 - Adult
  • $18.95, includes shipping
A Butterfly in Paris

Esmée Délancourt was perfectly happy never to leave her quiet home in Saint-Denis-lès-Chevreuse, France. But when the doors of the commuter train bound for Paris slide closed, trapping her inside, she finds herself an unwilling participant in an adventure through the City of Lights.

As Esmée struggles to find her way home again, the little butterfly meets a cast of characters and witnesses a world of wonders she could never have imagined. Through danger, love, and loss, she comes to understand the meaning of the word home and the symbolism hidden in a sculpture tucked away in the Louvre Museum; a sculpture her mother used to teach an important childhood lesson.

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  • Ages 7 - 14
  • $14.95, includes shipping
Tabouli

Tabouli is a real-life diabetes alert dog who lives with his owner, 13-year old Elizabeth Vaughan, in Greenville, South Carolina. Striving to overcome his tragic beginnings, Tabouli's love and devotion toward Elizabeth enable him to surmount challenges and obstacles, prejudice and doubt in order to become a certified service dog.

When tragedy strikes, Tabouli must find his way out of the shadows of grief which threaten to undermine all he has accomplished. Deciding always to follow the adventure, this heart-driven dog is surprised to find within himself a greatness he never expected.

Recommended by world-renown dog trainer, Debby Kay, this book “so perfectly captures the spirit and journey of a remarkable service dog.”

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  • Ages 4 - 7
  • $12.95, includes shipping
Philbert LaRue had a Hole in his Shoe

A Seussical, lyrical, rhymingly-rhythmical comedy of errors that begins with a hole in a shoe and ends when a wiser Philbert learns a valuable lesson.

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  • Ages 4 - 7
  • $9.95, includes shipping
With Just An Empty Shoebox

With Just An Empty Shoebox opens the lid and peeks inside a world of simple wonders and limitless creativity, in which dreams are stored away for a lifetime of happiness.

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  • Ages 4 - 7
  • $5.95, includes shipping
Seer Shilliness

Seer Shilliness: A collection of poems for the youthful heart is a collection of rhymes; rhythms; whimsy; wonderings; wanderings and ponderings for the youthful heart. Written purely to entertain, this little book of poetry could only be happier if it were also used as a coloring book!

Calendar of Events

Chidren's Book Author, Young Adult Novelist, Adult Fiction Author, Poet, Musician, Public Speaker


Upcoming Events


Date and Time Location Event Type
COMING SOON!





Date and Time Location Event Type
CANCELED DUE TO COVID-19
May 15th, 2020 @ 10:30 am
Anderson Library
Anderson, South Carolina
Speaking Engagement, Book Signing
CANCELED DUE TO COVID-19
May 1, 2020
Monarch Elementary, Greenville, SCSTEAM DAY: Book Reading, Book Signing
CANCELED DUE TO COVID-19
April 24th, 2020
8:30 am
Plain Elementary
Simpsonville, South Carolina
Speaking Engagement, Book Signing
February 3rd, 2020 @ 1:15 pm Paris Elementary School
Simpsonville, South Carolina
Speaking Engagement, Book Signing
February 10th, 2020 @ 8:30 am Paris Elementary PTA Literacy Night
6:30 pm
Simpsonville, South Carolina
Speaking Engagement, Book Signing
February 11th, 2020
8:30 am
Simpsonville Elementary School
8:30 am
Simpsonville, South Carolina
Speaking Engagement, Book Signing
Tuesday, January 28th, 2020
8:30 am
Crosswell Elementary School, Easley, SC Reading, Speaking
December 19th, 2019
8:30 am
Simpsonville Elementary School
8:30 am
Simpsonville, South Carolina
Speaking Engagement, Book Signing
November 14th, 2019
10:00 am
Bon Secours Hospital Lifewise Program
Simpsonville Baptist Church (venue)
101 Church St.
Simpsonville, South Carolina
Speaking Engagement, Book Signing
November 7th, 2019
2:30 pm
Legacy Early College
1613 W. Washington St.
Greenville, South Carolina
Speaking Engagement, Book Signing
October 23rd, 2019 Oneida High School
Oneida, New York
Speaking Engagement: Creative Writing Class
October 22nd, 2019 VVS Elementary Schools
Vernon, Verona and Sherrill, New York
Speaking Engagements, Book Signings
October 22nd, 2019 @ 6 pm Oneida Public Library
Oneida, New York
Book Signing
October 21st, 2019 VVS High School, Middle School
Verona, New York
Speaking Engagements, Book Signings
October 21st, 2019 @ 6 pm Sherrill-Kenwood Public Library
Sherrill, New York
Book Signing
September 29th, 2019 Collar Greens Event: Central Farm Markets,
Falls Church, Virginia
Book Signing for "Tabouli"
September 27th, 2019 Lakes & Bridges Charter School
Easley, South Carolina
Speaking, Book Signing
September 14th, 2019 JDRF One Walk, BMW Performance Center, Greer, SC Book Signing with Matt
September 13th, 2019 Camperdown Academy, Greenville, SC Speaking Engagement with Matt
September 2nd, 2019 Jack Roper & Megan Heidlberg, Your Carolina
live TV appearance
WSPA News Channel 7, Greenville, SC
Interview with Elizabeth, Tabouli, and Matt
August 27, 2019, 5:55 pm Carol Clarke of WYFF News Channel 4, Greenville, SC Interview with Elizabeth, Tabouli, and Matt
August 25th, 2019 11 am, St. Rafka, Greer, SC Book Sales & Signing
August 24th, 2019 4 pm, St. Rafka, Greer, SC Book Sales & Signing
August 17th, 2019 Book Launch Party By Invitation Only. Book Launch Party for "Tabouli"
August 13th, 2019 Diabetes Late Nite Radio Interview with Matt Pelicano & Elizabeth Gallagher about "Tabouli"
April 26, 2019Monarch Elementary, Greenville, SCBook Reading, Book Signing
February 20, 2019Oakview Elementary, Simpsonville, SCBook Reading, Book Signing
January 24, 2019SJCS Greenville, SCBook Reading, Creative Writing Class
Monday, December 19th, 2018 East End Elementary School, Easley, SC Reading, Book Signing
Saturday, December 1st, 2018
9:30 am - 12 noon
M. Judson Books, 130 South Main Street, Greenville, SCBook Signing
Tuesday, November 20th, 2018
8:30 am
Crosswell Elementary School, Easley, SC Reading, Book Signing
Wednesday, October 17th, 2018 St. Joseph School, Greenville, SC Speaking Engagement
Saturday, October 6th:
11:00 am - 6:00 pm
Mid-East Food Fest, Greer, SC Book Signing
Thursday, October 4th, 2018
2:15 pm - 4:00 pm
Legacy Early College, Greenville, SCReading, Book Signing
Monday, October 1st, 2018Lakes and Bridges Charter School, Easley, SCReading, Book Signing
Tuesday, September 11th:
11:00 am - 1:00 pm
Anderson County Special Population, Anderson, SC Reading, Book Signing
Sunday, September 2nd:
11:00 am - 12:30 pm
St. Rafka, Greer, SC Book Signing
Saturday, September 1st:
4:00 pm - 5:30 pm
St. Rafka, Greer, SC Book Signing

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Chidren's Book Author, Young Adult Novelist, Adult Fiction Author, Poet, Musician, Public Speaker

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