Matthew Wynn

Latest Author Features

My Aiken Breakin’ HeART… of the Horse Festival

What do you call an Amish guy with his hand in a horse’s mouth? A mechanic. I grew up in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania — Amish Country. As a kid, that joke was hilarious. Horses where just those animals that pulled the buggies that made traffic slow to a crawl. Their metal shoes would destroy the roads. And then there were the road apples. There’s nothing like a fresh pile of horse droppings when you round the corner on your bike a little too fast, so you just pinch your eyes and hold your breath and pedal through. Then we moved to Texas. We had a small farm and cattle ranch.

Bella Fella | Reboot: A Mike Thomas Story

The man enters the theater. Alone. Just like always. Soles smack on the sticky floor. Heavy ghosts of buttered popcorn haunt the aisles. He sits in the back corner. Just like always. It takes a certain moxie to go the movies alone. And our guy is chock-full of it. The theater is his place to be alone. It is his sanctuary — his refuge. In the dark of the theater, he is anonymous. The lights dim, and the first preview begins. The first image we see is a young man in a suit and tie. He’s wearing a name tag for a company called Global Spectrum. He’s meeting with another

The Drifters | Good Times

Every Thursday, when I was five, I had the same routine. I would walk home from school (back in the 80s, parents trusted their kids to do things like walking). I would do my homework. I’d have a snack. Then, around 4 o’clock, my father would pick me up for our court mandated visits. I’d climb into the back of his Pontiac, we’d pick up ‘the steps’ (mom, sister, and brother) and go out to eat. It was always somewhere cheap and forgettable, like Hardee’s or Roy Rogers, and then we’d go to visit my grandma in the nursing home. The music selection was always limited in my old man’s

Loving Your Brothers | I’ll Stand With You

There was violence everywhere. Explosions. Gun fire, bombs, missiles. Carnage. It was more than a rebellion, it was a revolution. And as the hero focused on his task at hand, we the audience saw what he did not: TIE fighters, closing in. But just before his seemingly inevitable doom, there he was. He came out of nowhere. Few people knew his name. With a few quick laser blasts, he dispatched the threat, and Luke Skywalker was able to fulfill his destiny and blow up the first Death Star. And then, in The Return of the Jedi, as Billy Dee Williams fought his way to the center of the second Death

Bella Fella | La ballade de Kelvin Jenkins

acte un Once upon a time, let’s say 1985, back when kids still played outside, A boy named Kelvin Jenkins could be seen ‘round town, out for a bike ride. South Boundary was his preferred path; how he wished to someday live on that road. So he vowed to own a house under those sleepy oak trees, someday, perhaps, when he was old. Then he’d pedal on home, to his family and kin, where he’d play with his neighbor and best buddy, Jimjim. “My dad,” Kelvin tells me, “he almost went into the NBA. He was a basketball star; he’s even up on the wall at the Etherredge Center. And

Bella Fella | What’s up, Doc?

A Fan Fiction Interview I’ll bet Dr. Tiffany has more awards than your doctor. I don’t say that to put your doctor down, I’m just saying, the man has accolades. He’s been recognized by multiple peer and community organizations for his dedication to his clients, his community, and for his sweet dance moves.* Ask around Aiken — those who know him take their kids to him. Those who take their kids to him swear by him. I even asked my mom, and she went on for like 10 minutes about how great the good Doc is. But I’ve never met Dr. Tiffany. I’ve never had a doctor friend. So most,

Diving Into Wellness | Grin and Bear it

My feet moved to the edge. The air was cold, sharp in my throat. Scared eyes looked down; my heart raced. I knew I had to jump, but couldn’t believe I was about to actually do it. “Count to three, then just let go,” said a stranger in line behind me. I counted to five. And a half. Then I did it; I just let go. I fell. It was freezing. The plummet lasted half an hour, or maybe half a second, I can’t be sure, time bends when you’re free falling. When you leap with both feet, literally, you completely surrender to the moment — to time and space

Served: A Back and Forth between Matthew Wynn and Paige Rabon

M: A club? I don’t mean to be backhanded, but why go to a club? P: A club brings people together and provides an environment perfect for exercising and having fun with friends. In good company, time passes quickly and any activity is more enjoyable. M: So I’d have to … do stuff. Like what? P: Swimming is a whole body activity, using all muscle groups. It builds strength, endurance, and aerobic fitness. Organized swimming provides skill practice and aerobic activity while having fun with friends, but even casual swimming is beneficial. M: You do realize it’s winter? P: Even though it is hard to think of temperatures warm enough

Importance of Fitness | Resolve

The broken man awakens. His battered body rises from a shoddy bed and staggers to the opposite side of a one room log cabin. Coals glow in the fireplace but the air is cold. On the dresser mirror the man finds a photograph. It captures his attention. His mouth falls open but he doesn’t speak. His face is fierce and unafraid, but in his eyes there is doubt and fear. If he is going to defeat the man in the picture, he has to be stronger. He has to be faster. He has to be better. He races outside into the snow covered mountains of somewhere in Russia, and cuts

Santa: Claude – Bella Fella

A True Story by Matthew Wynn The eight-year-old approached me. He was angry. Balled fists. Wide eyes. Pinched lips. “Santa Claus is a fraud,” he said. “Oh,” I replied, “is that a fact? Well, then who leaves those presents under the tree that say ‘from Santa’?” He paused, seemed to roll the question around in his head a few times then blurted out, “It was probably Mrs. Claus. She probably does all the work and she doesn’t get any credit.” True story kid. Just not in the way you think. But he got me thinking, what do you say, these days, when an eight-year-old asks you about Saint Nick? What