My name's King. I was born in the 90's. I went to a school in Lagos, a coastal city in Nigeria, West Africa. I started school at the age of 2. Necessity made me self-reliant and, maybe, prematurely ambitious. But I'm just like every other young guy out there. All I wanted was what I never had.

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Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Becoming Your Own Ebook Editor – Four Very Important Tips For Better Ebook Editing

Editing your own ebook can seem a very daunting task, and being able to produce perfect results is almost impossible, ALL of the time. It becomes even more burdensome if you’re not an editor and have no prior experience in ebook editing. Always, it appears the best option is to simply hire someone else for the task. However, not everyone has the financial resource to hire a professional editor, especially not those in the indie community who are just starting out. This is where self-editing your ebook can seem a very palatable option, provided you are able to do it right.
The following four tips will help you ensure that you get it right each time you’re editing your ebook:
Becoming Your Own Ebook Editor – Four Very Important Tips For Better Ebook Editing

Saturday, September 14, 2013

DESCENT OF THE FAILED (A love, heartbreak poem)

Another stage of a lonely existence
You've always been all that I wanted.
If I should course through life with this difference
Please do not take it all for granted.

You were in my dreams again the other night
The only place where you are truly mine,
Where for our togetherness I don't have to fight,
Where residents of a timeless world dine.

How many of these nights make up my life
On whose awakening is my only proof of being alive.
No more shall I be able to take things in my stride,
Not when you've rent apart the touchstone of my pride.

If you'll because of this rip my heart asunder,
Remember to save the memories for the one who comes after.
Only then can my soul be freed from Love's bother
And find its rightful place in the land of the Nether.

Dank existence, burning with the zest of go-getters,
Where failed souls are kept in locks and fetters.
Dust, grime, and sudorific pain cloud all that I do.
In the midst of these agonies, I'll remember you.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Lori's Song - The true story of an American woman held captive in Iran

A review by Cy B. Hilterman VINE VOICE

Lori Foroozandeh grew up as a much-abused child, sexually and mentally. She began to wonder what was normal in life and if the "games" her family played with her were good or bad for her. As it always turned out, they were extremely bad for Lori. Her "tickling" episodes turned into so much more than tickling. The only reason I emphasize the abuse is so you can realize what much of the rest of her life became because of abuse. She got to the point where sexual and physical abuse was something she grew to accept as being normal.
Lori originally married at age fifteen to a much older man when she felt she had to emancipate herself. That marriage didn't last very long. At seventeen she joined the army and fell in love with her recruiter and got pregnant at once. They got married after he had gone AWOL and was given a dishonorable discharge. Lori did go to army training and was selected in a group to see how women reacted in combat. Lori went AWOL several times and finally decided the army was not for her future. Several years later she was caught and was separated from the army. Lori's life had become quite wild!
When twenty-seven, Lori met her next husband, Mohammad Foroozandeh, who also had children. He talked her, or in reality, forced her to go to Iran where he said things were changed so much for women and her wild record in the United States would be over. Upon arrival in Iran, Lori was forced into wearing the Muslim clothing. Lori became a teacher of English. She hated living in Iran with all the customs she had to follow and to add to the misery, Mohammad started hitting and slapping her even more so when he found out Lori was trying to find a way back to the United Sates.
Mohammad and Lori were kidnapped while together on the streets but each was taken to a separate place. These places were camps, certainly no camps as we know them. From here on things went downhill fast for Lori. She was chained 24/7 to another girl. They received little food most of which they scrounged from what the guards of the camp threw on the ground or got water from mud puddles. They ate insects, rats, or whatever they could catch, mostly raw. Was it Mohammad's drug dealing that caused her to be in such a place? She didn't know.
This went on for months and in various camps as they moved her from one to another. They were yanked from their sleep or rest, taken to another area of the camp, and were tortured and repeatedly raped. The soldiers would take their turns with each woman doing what he wished to them. The women got to the point of just staring in space as this was going on but there was no way for any human to get used to such a disgrace. Some of the things that occurred to them while in the camps are so gruesome that you will cringe as you read and wonder how they stayed alive. The truth is that many did not survive it.
As I read I wondered myself how any human could do such things to other humans. Some sadistic things would not be carried out on animals much less humans. I will stop here so as not to spoil any of the final parts of the book. Occasionally I would stop reading and think, "did this really occur in our world?" Only Lori and the many in her camp, many of who did not make it, know what they went through.

'Lori's Song'  is available on Amazon

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

LIFE IS A BREAKING THREAD (A poem)



A pain so dark
My vision is blurred.
Concentration becomes herculean
And I don't know what to do.

What is there to do -
That which has already been done?
How will I tell this story,
And still retain my glory?

This kind of glory,
Not the kind you seek.
A rather meaningless goal,
But it's the last dregs of my hope.

I have seen this pain before;
Only then it wasn't mine.
Propinquity has made its multiple.
Grasses indeed look green afar off.

My sorrow deepens,
As my hope diminishes.
I thought my life was mine.
I never wanted a loan.

They say time will heal.
How can that be
When time is but a fraction
Of what is yet is not?

I'll cling to this breaking thread,
But does it make any sense?
Maybe I just should let go,
And end what was not meant to be.

Still here, I haven't decided yet.
In the end time will make the decision.
But it is only a fraction
Of what is yet is not.


© 2013 King Samuel Benson
Image source: www.rededgeimages.com