I am known as Mangus Khan. My life has been a turning page in a dime store novel. Nothing steadily grabbing your attention, but enough to keep you interested. Writing for me, is one of those gifts the Master gives, during the time he is putting together the pieces that make you. Like anything in life, talent is never enough. We must work hard at developing the gifts we have been bestowed. This means that we must dig deep; past our fear, past our doubts, and become the best at whatever we are meant to be. Does this mean that you are the next Ellison, Hemingway, Mosley, Morrison, or Angelou just waiting to be discovered? Perhaps you are? Who really knows? However, we can never be discovered by leaving our work, on the pages of closed binding.
Each word, every sentence, and each verse of The Memoirs of Madness, are exactly like that for me. It never was meant to entertain you, but if it has, rock on. It was never meant to captivate you, but if it did, hold on; we just got started. It is simply my heart and soul on a page for all to see. It is an expression of my thoughts, my fears, and my secrets. In its pages, I tell the story of those who cannot speak, or don’t know how. I never imagined through telling their stories, I would wind up telling my own. I am just a simple man with a pen, who writes the Memoirs of Madness.