Jump to a question:
One I always come back to is A Fly Went By, the 1958 classic by Mike McClintock, illustrated by Fritz Siebel. I love everything about it—the concept, the rhythm of the writing, the storytelling, and the illustrations. Some might call the style retro, but to me it feels timeless, intentional, and memorable.
I’ve always had a similar appreciation for Dr. Seuss books as well—the playfulness, rhythm, and imagination that make them so engaging for kids and adults alike.
Another favorite in our home was Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown, illustrated by Clement Hurd. It’s simple, calming, and beautifully structured—one of those rare books that stays with you long after childhood.
I’m inspired by many things, but it starts with my boys. As a parent, you try to pour love into your kids, keep them safe, and encourage them to explore what excites them—whether that’s sports like soccer and lacrosse, or interests like fishing, skiing, snowboarding, or even carnivorous plants.
We’re also raising children in a digital age, where mobile devices are always within reach. Kids experience the world very differently than I did growing up—faster, more connected, and more complex. That reality has made me more intentional about the stories I tell and the values behind them.
As a father of neurodiverse children, I’m very aware of the autism spectrum, ADHD, and mental health. These experiences shape how children move through the world, and they’ve influenced my focus on empathy, patience, inclusion, and acceptance.
Much of my writing is also shaped by lived experiences with my boys—especially moments involving self-esteem, or learning to understand relationships beyond structured team environments. Those moments naturally led me toward themes of belonging, acceptance, and celebrating differences.
My professional background in DEI has reinforced that perspective. I’ve seen how important it is for people to feel seen and included, and I also value learning from and celebrating cultures beyond my own. At its core, I see storytelling—and art—as universal.
I’m inspired by my dogs and the quiet world they live in, as well as nature, family life, and everyday moments that often go unnoticed.
In the end, it’s usually the simplest moments—when you’re paying attention—that become the most meaningful stories.
I usually start with what I know and what I’ve lived. Growing up around many different animals gave me a deep appreciation for them, and I’ve always felt that caring for animals naturally builds empathy and responsibility. That idea shows up in a lot of my stories.
Many of my concepts also come from real conversations and everyday experiences. Ollie’s True Value, my most recent book, began through a conversation with a colleague whose young son was going through something similar to what my own son experienced—working through self-esteem and self-worth, even in environments filled with love, support, and encouragement.
Rudy and Leo came from thinking about self-acceptance and what it feels like to believe you’re alone in your experience. It made me reflect on how isolating that can be for anyone who feels different—whether neurodiverse, LGBTQ+, or part of a different culture. In these stories, I wanted to highlight the importance of belonging, connection, and being seen and celebrated for who you are.
Sleepy Miss Lucy was inspired by our rescue bull terrier, Lucy. I had never had a dog who slept so deeply and for so long. We later discovered she was deaf, which helped explain her calm, unbothered reactions to things like vacuuming, fireworks, car horns, and other barking dogs.
Percy the Patient Pigeon came from something I think every child—and honestly every adult—struggles with: patience. In a world of instant gratification, I wanted to create a story that gently reinforces the value of slowing down, waiting, and understanding that good things take time.
One of my favorite animals has always been bats. As a member of Bat Conservation International and the North American Bat Conservation Alliance, I find them incredibly fascinating. They’re often misunderstood, yet they play a vital role in our ecosystem by keeping insect populations in balance. I’ve always been drawn to the idea of helping children see value in the unexpected and overlooked.
In the end, my concepts come from real life—observations, conversations, animals I’ve known, and the everyday lessons that quietly shape how we see the world.
I see AI as a tool—nothing more, nothing less. Something that supports the creative process and helps move ideas forward more efficiently. I’m transparent about using it, and it has become a practical part of how I develop and complete these stories.
My background is in art direction and graphic design, so I’ve always worked at the intersection of storytelling and visual communication. That’s where I feel most at home. It’s also why I describe myself as a children’s book creator rather than strictly an author or illustrator—I’m building the full experience, from story to visual direction.
I use AI in a few practical ways. It helps with grammar, punctuation, and clarity, and it supports the early development process as ideas take shape. My experience with tools like the Adobe Creative Suite and Firefly has made it easier to integrate it into a workflow that feels intentional and aligned with how I already create.
I also think about AI in the context of how new creative forms are received. When rap music first emerged, many people dismissed it or questioned its validity as music. Over time, it proved itself as a powerful and expressive genre with its own structure, rhythm, and voice. New tools and new forms often go through that same process of resistance before understanding.
I see AI in a similar way. It doesn’t replace creativity—it extends it. Like a palette knife alongside a paintbrush, it changes the texture of the work, but the outcome still depends entirely on the intent and skill of the person using it.
As an artist, I try to stay open to all forms of expression. I believe new tools and new voices are part of how creative culture evolves, and that resisting them outright can limit that growth.
Each book I create is still a fully considered creative project. AI is simply one of the tools that helps bring those ideas into the world.
Over time, I may choose to illustrate a story myself if it feels like the right fit. For now, I’m focused on connecting story and visual direction in a way that allows each book to fully take shape and reach the page.
My books are available online through Barnes & Noble (and Amazon,) and I’ve had readers pick them up in different countries, especially English-speaking ones. Currently they are only in english. Buty I plan to translate them into tagalog as well.
At this stage, I’m just grateful to be able to share these stories with anyone who connects with them. Originally, they were never meant for publication—they were created as something private for my family and my boys. But over time, as I continued developing and refining them, I was encouraged to share them more widely.
Yes—I have a few ideas currently in development, though there’s no set timeline for publishing just yet. I’m still new to children’s book publishing, and with each story, I continue to refine, polish, and evolve my craft. I’m a prolific storyteller and creator, and I’m always developing new ideas that bring complex concepts down to a child’s level of understanding.
At the core, the stories I create focus on small things that can make big problems feel more manageable. My goal is to improve children’s experiences and help prepare them for the world they’re growing into.
I’m genuinely grateful that anyone finds value in the work I do.
Absolutely not. There are so many incredible children’s books, along with talented authors, illustrators, and meaningful stories—and that’s a good thing. Given the diversity of human experience, every book has its own value and place.
I’m very aware of that landscape, and I was once asked if there’s room for someone like me in children’s publishing. My answer is always yes—there’s plenty of room for everyone. There are an infinite number of perspectives and experiences, and all of them have value.
Children should be reading as widely as possible, and parents should feel encouraged to expose them to a range of perspectives, ideas, and stories. The world is much larger than a neighborhood, a state, or even a single country—and every perspective offers its own unique lens.
A child equipped with patience, curiosity, goal setting, and a healthy sense of self is better prepared for the future—and for the ever-changing world around them.