Matthew Allard

Writing & Pictures

Los Angeles


Hey there.

My name is matt allard. 

I'm a writer living in Los Angeles, CA. I also make pictures.

I have published two collections of short stories, To Slow Down The Time (2010) and Pops and Clicks (2013), and my writing has been featured as part of Sing Statistic’s Reverence Library and printed in The South Loop Review.

As a photographer, I most like to shoot lifestyle photos, and I often partner with businesses to create branded social content on Instagram.

I grew up in Michigan and I have a Bachelor of Arts degree from Columbia College Chicago. I love a good coffee or craft beer and practicing yoga.

If you'd like to work together, ask a question, or just say hello—please don't hesitate to reach out. I'd love to hear from you at

Thanks for stopping by!



Lifelong friends battle an illness threatening to disconnect their relationship. A boy scandalously attracted to books comes to terms with his unconventional sexuality. Twin girls, longing to be different, encounter a great white shark. A sheltered country boy runs off to the city and discovers friendship without ever leaving his apartment. Matthew Allard’s fiction debut is filled with obsessive teenagers, scorned women, and unreliable men; but throughout, it brims with characters simply trying to lasso a moment of happiness, sometimes under rather curious conditions.

Printed alongside the 19 Ian Dingman illustrations which inspired them, the stories in To Slow Down The Time come together to provide a charming snapshot of modern storytelling. (2010)

POPS AND CLICKS is Matthew Allard’s second story collection. In “When We Are Giraffes,” a lovable graphic artist, battling mental illness, finds comfort and tests the fragile limits of his marriage after purchasing a giraffe outfit from the Home Shopping Channel. In “Love Machine,” a nameless protagonist constructs an elaborate device in hopes of making his crush feel the same way. And in “Everyone Here Is Happy,” a teenager explores the ripe edge of adulthood while struggling to connect with her astronaut father who lives—quite literally—in another world. Thoughtful, funny, and surreal, these nine stories examine modern relationships, from parents and siblings to strangers and lovers, revealing the complex and mysterious ways our lives intersect. (2013)



I shoot a wide variety of subjects, but I'm most drawn to cataloguing my own life in Southern California with pops of color and bright, clean compositions.

Some of my clients include GAP, AT&T, adidas, Pacifico Beer, MasterCard, Sennheiser, Jameson Whiskey, Veggie Grill, Lyft, Garrett Leight, Mount Gay Rum, Hotwire, The Macallan, Esquire, Warby Parker, and Harry's.





And we kept saying how we’d never stay in Los Angeles forever, how it’s not a forever-place. Except this morning, staring at my pants in the closet, I thought that we’d eventually just find ourselves having stayed here forever. You and me and everyone else we know in different formations or pairings, maybe, with lives that have gotten bulky or skeletal from all of the decisions and the choices and the living. We’ll be closer to the water somehow in an old house with all of the old things we’ve collected as we’ve collectively gotten older. You and me and everyone else, older and still here. Because I don’t want to wear pants, and here I can most often wear last year’s pants that I’ve hacked off above the knee, and I can most often wear some T-shirt I’ve had for so long and washed and washed till it’s gotten thin around the bones in my shoulders. And when it’s the first day of spring and it’s not snowing and it’s overcast but it’s not cold, not cold the way that other people know cold and live with cold, we will just wander out of the house in whatever with our hair saying whatever and our faces saying whatever and our mouths saying whatever. Of course there will be those times when the ground got upset and our whole houses moved on their own, but then I’ll think about how I, too, get upset—you and me and everyone else, we get upset sometimes—and so…whatever. Hollywood will still hang around the corner with a wide white smile that’s so horrific I gasp and shake my head and maybe laugh, and I’ll have to force-remember how there is a lot of everything else here too. There is a lot, and that is what has made this not a forever-place and a place we’ve found ourselves staying forever, looking at our aging faces in the mirror fifteen, twenty, thirty years later and seeing palm trees out the window behind us. Sit on the sofa, stare at the wall, walk by the ocean, run. You and me and everyone else we know, different but still holding onto some shred of the same, in tiny colored boxes, living our secret little lives.