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Showing posts from March 29, 2015

The Austin Festival continues…

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That’s right!


While you may have thought the festival ended, Austin Morgan returns with another intriguing story, “The Embers of Dusk” the second installment of a four part series that may rest with the overall title, "The Automatic Orchestra" when it is in book form.  For now, we simply refer to these stories as the "Melancholy Quartet."   

Austin's first story with aaduna, “Julie Templeton and the AutomaticOrchestra,”was published in aaduna's summer 2014 issue, and it tantalized our readers.His second piece is an ambitious piece of story- telling that once again shows Mr. Morgan's mastery of words, narrative imagery, and movement through space and time.

So, let the festival continue.Austin returns in aaduna's upcoming 5th anniversary-spring 2015 issue scheduled for publishing this month!

Here’s an unedited teaser from “Embers…”
The Birth of Féna

Upon the series of discoveries made in regard to the “New World” of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, …

When writing and reading is a Joy to share....

And we wanted to share this particular "joy" with you.  After perusing "Trainless," you may be prompted to submit your work; add this online magazine to your reading list, and share this find with friends.  We hope you do one of the three. Trainless Magazine is an online literary magazine focusing on travel and the unique ways of learning about different cultures. We publish 12 issues a year, with fiction and nonfiction pieces from both emerging and well read writers. Please submit work between 500 and 2,000 words through our submission manager at: http://trainlessmagazine.com/article/submit.html. aaduna thanks Kristyn Bacon, founder and editor of Trainless Magazine.

When More is not enough, there is Mohr.

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Michael Mohr's non-fiction graces the pages of the upcoming issue of aaduna. Here is the opening to his piece, "Conquering Mount Whitney: The Push of a Lifetime."

I’ve spent a lot of time in the mountains. From an early age, my father and I would hike in the ranges of Ojai—my hometown—a blip on the map twenty minutes inland from the coast, an hour north of L.A. After my youth, I’d spent years on and off hitchhiking all over the United States, sometimes going into the woods—without anybody knowing—for a week at a time, with only minimal food and water, surviving just fine, reading Keroauc’s On the Road.
But one thing I’d never done was climb a serious mountain, or experience real altitude.
Fast forward to age thirty. I met a young man my age who’d recently tackled Mount Ranier. For some unconscious reason, this man’s trip to Ranier inspired in myself a strong, palpable desire to tackle something I’d never tackled before; to do the thing I’d always, deep down inside, wante…