Welcome to The House of the Carrion Eaters (Domus Necrophagous).
My name is Nikolas P. Robinson, and this is where I share updates on my creative pursuits, book (and other media) reviews, and random thoughts on everything from politics to whatever the hell else I might have on my mind.
I wish that I had some grand tale to tell, about my life and where I’ve been…but I would be lying. I could tell you that I’m the product of a severely broken home, but that’s about as typical and common as it gets. I could tell you stories of abuse and neglect, pain and fear that molded me into the man that I’ve become…but who the hell hasn’t got stories like that to tell? I could talk of death and loss, how I was shaped throughout my childhood and into young adult life by what seemed like a constant series of events with that common theme…but who really cares but me, and those others who were impacted by said events?
Besides, those things aren’t who I am, they are the random and sundry items that helped me to become who I am. This is supposed to be about me, my present configuration…and what I am today.
I am a father, a grandfather, a college dropout, an award-winning author, a photographer, an avid reader, a former musician, and so many other things…and yet, a lot of the time I feel like I am nothing at all.
At the time I update this, I have released two novels, a novella, and two collections of short fiction (one including poetry) available. Additionally, I am releasing regular exclusive short fiction material through Godless and I have another novel soon to be released through Madness Heart Press, along with much more writing in progress.
I spent three years as a double major in physics and chemistry, but life got in the way and I had to leave school temporarily (which has extended to more than ten years)…and I don’t know if I will ever be returning.
That’s all there is to know, all that matters anyhow.
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Are you suggesting I have Autism Spectrum Disorder?
I’ve never been diagnosed as such, though other diagnoses could point toward something like that being the case. It’s been a great many years since I’ve seen a psychiatrist, and ASD wasn’t exactly a common diagnostic result back then unless it was particularly severe.
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