The Great Alliance: Terminus Book 1:
(Terminus, A Young Adult Science-Fiction Series)


What Does It Mean to Live with God’s Power in Everyday Life?
At a time when faith-based and self-help writing often competes for attention with quick fixes and instant answers, Robert Canton’s Fundamentals of Power-Filled Living: How to Live a Power-Filled Life Through Daily Application of God’s Word takes a more grounded approach. Its central concern is not simply what Christians believe, but what those beliefs look like when practiced through prayer, trust, service, forgiveness, humility, and reliance on the Holy Spirit.
Canton writes from years of experience in the Catholic Charismatic Renewal, including leading prayer meetings, giving spiritual talks, serving as a Catholic evangelist, and conducting healing and deliverance ministries in the United States and abroad. That ministry background gives the book an experiential quality. Scripture is not presented merely as something to study; it becomes a foundation for responding to uncertainty, weakness, conflict, responsibility, and spiritual struggle.
The scope is notably broad. Christian growth occupies the opening portion, with discussions of faith, surrender, trust, spiritual gifts, leadership, evangelization, forgiveness, and intercession before the book moves into spiritual warfare and healing. This structure makes Fundamentals of Power-Filled Living less like a single-topic devotional and more like a practical handbook for readers seeking consistency between faith and daily life.
That emphasis feels particularly relevant to contemporary Christian writers. Inspirational writing can encourage readers for a moment; application asks what happens after the page is turned. Canton repeatedly brings spiritual principles into human relationships and responsibilities. His discussion of leadership, for example, emphasizes love, compassion, humility, putting others ahead of personal preference, and focusing on the good of those being served.
Those ideas also give the book significance beyond individual spirituality. A society shaped by more compassionate leadership, forgiveness instead of prolonged resentment, concern for others, and service rather than self-interest has greater room for healthier families, stronger communities, reconciliation, and responsible citizenship. Canton’s treatment of intercession similarly turns attention outward, presenting prayer as an act concerned with the needs and struggles of other people.
Robert Canton’s work is worth discovering for readers seeking a faith-centered book that does not stop at inspiration but challenges Christian belief to become visible in everyday life.
History does not only live-in textbooks—it lives in the people who had to survive it.
A card table, an empty chair, and nearly twenty years of silence provide the deceptively intimate setting for Marva Washington’s Bid Whist at Midnight. What begins as a late-night reunion among former college friends Sardis, Grace, and Dorcus gradually becomes something far more revealing: an examination of friendship, memory, identity, and the history people carry long after the defining moment has passed.
The novel opens in February 1988, when the women reunite for the game that once helped bind them together in college. Their familiar rhythm cannot completely disguise what has changed. Four chairs surround the table, but Taletha will not be joining them, and the absence immediately gives the gathering emotional weight.
From there, Washington reaches back into their college years, placing personal stories alongside the social unrest of 1968. Student demonstrations against segregation, debates over Black identity, changing attitudes toward beauty and belonging, and the pressures surrounding the Civil Rights era become part of the characters’ everyday lives rather than distant historical footnotes. The friends themselves do not always agree on how change should happen. Taletha embraces activism, while Grace weighs the fight for equality against the possibility of losing the education her family sacrificed to provide.
That tension gives Bid Whist at Midnight particular relevance for contemporary readers and writers. Washington demonstrates how historical fiction can make large social movements personal. History is not presented only through famous names, protests, or political ideas; it is felt through friendships, family expectations, romantic relationships, ambitions, prejudice, grief, and the decisions ordinary people make when society itself is changing.
The card game becomes especially meaningful in that context. Bid whist is more than recreation. During college, the foursome grows from an uneasy grouping into friends who share personal trials, changing beliefs, and the complications of becoming adults. Their story suggests that meaningful relationships are not necessarily built on complete agreement, but on the willingness to listen, challenge assumptions, and recognize experiences beyond one’s own.
That idea carries considerable weight today. In a society still wrestling with questions of race, identity, inequality, belonging, gender, and generational trauma, fiction can create room for conversations that statistics and headlines alone cannot provide. Stories such as Washington’s remind contemporary writers of the value of preserving lived perspectives while giving readers the opportunity to encounter history through human consequences.
Bid Whist at Midnight offers readers something to carry beyond its final page: the understanding that the past rarely stays neatly in the past—and sometimes healing begins when people finally return to the table.
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The Science of Why You Forget Names — and What Actually Fixes It
You meet someone at a conference. They tell you their name. You repeat it back, shake their hand, maybe even comment on it. Ten seconds later, someone else joins the conversation. Now you need to introduce your new acquaintance. And the name is gone. Not fuzzy. Not on the tip of your tongue. Just simply gone, the way a browser tab closes without a trace.
If this has happened to you, the instinct is to treat it as a personal failing. A sign your memory isn't as sharp as you'd like. It isn't that. Remembering names and faces reliably has very little to do with how smart or attentive you are. It has everything to do with something simpler: two very different kinds of information, and a brain that was only ever built to handle one of them well.
This is one of the exact problems UNTAUGHT: The Memory System You Were Never Taught to Use is built to fix. Here's the actual reason it happens.
Think about a face you'd recognize instantly. Even years later. Even from across a crowded room, even if you couldn't place a single other detail about that person. Your brain has a whole region dedicated just to that. It's built specifically to notice and hold onto faces, and it is remarkably good at its job.
Now think about how a name arrives, right next to that same face. It gets none of that advantage. A name is just a sound, processed the same way as any other word you happen to overhear. It competes for a sliver of your attention while you're managing eye contact, thinking of what to say next, reading the room. Less than a second of real focus, and then it's simply expected to last.
So it's not that your memory is bad at holding names. Names are just close to the worst-case scenario for how memory actually works. Once you see that clearly, a forgotten name stops feeling like a failure. It starts making a lot more sense.
There's a strange comfort in that, honestly. It means the problem was never you. It was never about effort, or intelligence, or how carefully you were listening. It was the mismatch nobody ever pointed out.
And it's not only at parties. Picture a meeting where a client is introduced to you, and twenty minutes later you need to say their name in front of the whole room. Or a networking event where you meet five people in quick succession, and walking away, you realize you couldn't reliably repeat a single one back. Same brain. Same gap. Just a different room each time.
So what actually changes this? A handful of things, and they show up the same way every single time — whether it's a name at a party, a fact you're cramming before an exam, or a face from years ago that suddenly resurfaces.
First: it needs something familiar to attach to. New, isolated information has nowhere to live, so it drifts off fast, no matter how many times you repeat it.
Second: it needs to become a picture, not just a sound. Your brain holds onto images far better than it holds onto words. This is part of why repeating someone's name back to them rarely helps as much as people expect. You're keeping it in exactly the format your brain struggles with.
Third: it has to be specific. “Something about his job” barely registers. One vivid, particular detail does.
Fourth: timing. The connection has to form in that same moment. Get distracted by the next part of the conversation, and the original detail is often gone before it ever gets anchored. This one catches people off guard the most, because it happens fast, and nobody notices it happening at all.
Put those four together, and something forgettable starts behaving like a face instead. Encoded deeply. Hard to lose.
None of this means you need a better memory than the one you already have. Worth repeating, because it's the part people find hardest to believe: the brain that instantly recognizes a face across a room, twenty years later, is not a weak brain. It's a brain running in the right format. Names just don't arrive in that format on their own. They have to be converted, every time, and nobody ever actually teaches that as a skill. It's assumed you'll either pick it up naturally, somewhere along the way, or you simply won't, and that will just be your lot.
None of this is new, either. Long before anyone had language for how memory works this way, public speakers were already relying on the same idea. Deliberately tying new, unfamiliar information to something vivid and already known. Out of necessity. No notes to fall back on. A room full of people watching them either land it or fumble. People were doing this over two thousand years ago, refining it into something close to a craft, long before anyone could explain the biology behind it. The brain hasn't changed since. Only our understanding of why it works has. That's what turns a vague idea like “just visualize it” into something you can actually rely on, instead of stumbling into it by accident once in a while.
It also explains why some people seem to just be “good with names” while everyone else struggles. They're usually not naturally gifted. They've just stumbled, often without realizing it, into doing these four things automatically. The rest of us were never shown that there was anything to do at all.
This is exactly the mechanism UNTAUGHT breaks down in full. Not just for names and faces, but for studying, speaking, and recall under real pressure.
Which is really the whole point of all this. Forgetting a name moments after hearing it was never a sign of a weak memory. It's the predictable result of asking an untrained system to do something it was never good at. Pressure, distraction, no time to prepare. Exactly the conditions where it's most likely to let you down.
The same is true well past names. A student who studies for hours and still blanks on exam day isn't lacking effort, or intelligence. They're running into the same mismatch: real, valuable information, held the wrong way, nothing in place to bridge the gap. A professional who prepares thoroughly for a presentation and loses their train of thought at the podium is living the exact same story. Just with higher stakes attached. So is anyone who has ever walked out of a job interview replaying the one answer they knew cold, and somehow couldn't produce.
Your memory was never the problem. It just needed a system nobody ever handed you. The same way nobody ever sat any of us down and taught this as an actual skill. It's simply been left out. Treated as something people either happen to be good at, or don't.
That's really the part worth sitting with for a moment. Not that you failed some test of natural ability. Just that nobody, at any point along the way, ever actually showed you the one thing that would have made all the difference.
If this is the kind of thing that's helped already, UNTAUGHT takes it much further — a complete, four-level system, from your first names-and-faces win all the way to genuinely advanced recall.


Capitalism: A Pillar for People, Community, and Our Ways of Life
What if the future of capitalism depends not only on how markets grow, but on how widely opportunity is shared?
Economic systems are often discussed through statistics, policies, and political arguments. William M. Togbah takes a more human-centered route in Capitalism: A Pillar for People, Communities, and Our Ways of Life, examining capitalism through the people and communities expected to live within it. Rather than treating capitalism as a settled idea, Togbah presents it as an economic model that should be reconsidered for a changing, increasingly interconnected century.
Africa plays an important role in that discussion. Togbah argues that conversations about capitalism often overlook developing economies, particularly places where governments and public services may have less capacity. His examination considers how private enterprise, individual initiative, competition, and different levels of government regulation affect economic life across African societies.
Yet the book reaches beyond a defense of one economic system. Its chapters move through women’s empowerment, the growth of the middle class, technology, education, multinational business, and job creation—subjects that bring economics closer to everyday concerns. Education receives particular attention as a path toward specialization, productivity, knowledge sharing, and greater economic participation.
That perspective gives the book particular relevance for today’s writers, thinkers, students, and socially conscious readers. Discussions of inequality, employment, education, and development can easily become abstract. Togbah continually returns those discussions to human outcomes: whether people can find work, develop useful skills, participate economically, strengthen their communities, and imagine better possibilities for the next generation. His exploration also draws from interviews concerning education, wealth disparity, public safety, and other social concerns, alongside his own experience of economic inequality in Liberia.
For contemporary society, perhaps the book’s most valuable invitation is not that every reader must agree with its conclusions. It is that economic ideas deserve closer examination when they shape education, opportunity, work, identity, and community life.
Readers interested in African politics, global economics, development, education, and the continuing debate over capitalism will find plenty to consider in William M. Togbah’s Capitalism: A Pillar for People, Communities, and Our Ways of Life.
A Pillar for People, Community, and Our Ways of Life
A Pillar for People, Community, and Our Ways of Life
