You ever walk into a room expecting your voice to boom like a prophet’s and instead get met with blank stares and TikTok scrolling?

That was me two weeks ago, stepping into a summer workshop with students aged 8 to 17. I came in with fire and myth, ready to guide them into storytelling. The younger kids couldn’t sit still long enough to absorb anything. The teens? Aloof at best. My usual trick—command the room with presence, reinforce with voice—didn’t move the needle.

I walked out thinking: I might be losing my mojo.

So I did what any story-hardened madman would do.

I built them a universe.

The Ashoma Codex rose from that frustration. An entire mythos crafted for them—a sacred order of supernatural beings bound by fire, memory, and sacrifice. Vampires and werewolves. Secret Circles. Flame-born rites. I even spun up a website just for them, with lore, rituals, and a place to submit their own creations.

And then today, I got word from their instructor: they love it.

They’re building characters. Creating art. Engaging with the world I made. Turns out they didn’t need a lecture. They needed a world that would speak their language.

It’s been a long time since I had that much fun doing something for someone else.

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Forging the Forge (with Fewer Bugs and More Story)

Let’s talk about The Narrative Forge (TNF)—my dedicated space for longform fiction.

Eventually, it’ll be home to five deep-cut series:

• Ashwood County – Southern Gothic horror soaked in grief and ghost stories
• No Half Measures (formerly Cop Stories) – A noir detective tale where trust is dangerous and truth cuts deep
• Reilly McGee: Misadventures at Crestview High – 1980s chaos, coming-of-age style, with more heartache than heroics
• Bourbon and Rust – Grit, regret, and a neo-Western sense of justice
• Truth Burns – Emotional aftermath and the slow claw toward redemption

The plan: post one chapter a week, rotating series. I’m kicking things off with Ashwood County as I work out the kinks and refine the reader experience.

TNF is my main focus right now. But soon, House of Tunage and The Howlin’ Inkwell will start to move forward again too—each with their own voice and rhythm. And yes, visual arts are coming as well. That site’s still under development, slowed down by the same quirks that’ve been haunting the others.

You guys remember The Knucklehead Report? I gave it its own space so I can rant, roast, or rave about the books and movies that cross my path—without crowding out the rest of Memoirs of Madness.

All of this—the new structure, the site spinoffs, the redesigns—is meant to do one thing: streamline MoM. Make it cleaner. More focused. Easier to navigate without tripping over half-finished drafts or misplaced experiments.

I don’t know which projects will thrive, but right now, building them helps me clear the noise and move forward.

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Links to Explore:

• 🧠 The Narrative Forge – narrativeforge.manguskhan.com
• 🎶 House of Tunage – houseoftunage.com
• ✍️ The Howlin’ Inkwell – howlininkwell.com
• 🧨 Mangus Khan Universe – manguskhan.com

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So yeah—if things have been a little quiet here, it’s not because I’ve stopped writing. It’s because I’ve been building.

Worlds. Platforms. Foundations.

Madness is still in motion.
Stay with me.

If you’ve been wrestling with your own creative chaos, you’re not alone.
Let’s build through it—one chapter, one echo, one imperfect myth at a time.

Let me know in the comments which project you’re most curious about—Ashwood County, No Half Measures, Reilly, Rust, or something else entirely.

—Mangus