Hello everyone,

It appears as though a feud has resulted between myself and the owner of Lame Goat Press. Earlier today, I requested a withdrawal of my collection, An Amorous Thing, under the stipulation that I felt as though I couldn’t successfully promote my collection through Lame Goat Press. This, along with several other factors which I do not feel the need to disclose, ultimately influenced my decision to pull my publication from press. After exchanging what I thought was a very polite email conversation with my publisher, I received further contact via Facebook, that of which I will not mention. I was fine with the private conversation that the two of us had.

What I’m not fine with, however, is this:

No more than a half-hour ago, I received a status update from my An Amorous Thing Facebook group, that of which simply read:

Kiss An Amorous Thing goodbye. The author has decided to withdraw his collection from publication. Apparently LGP is not competent enough to deal with single-author collections. Regardless, it’s now out of my hands… Christopher Lame Goat

Click image to be taken to screenshot. Status updates have been blurred to hide my friends’ identities.

Along with this message, I was also mortified to find that I was locked out of the Facebook group that I allowed Christopher to co-administrate with me. Not only was I unable to access the group, but every time I tried, I was immediately returned to my Facebook homepage. This leads me to believe that I have been blocked from the group, or the group is in some state of suspended animation.

Regardless of whatever is really happening, I cannot let such behavior go by without explanation. I withdrew my book because I felt the press couldn’t promote it as I felt it should be. I had confirmation of my rights being returned sent to my email. Now I’m locked out of my Facebook group without any way to get back in it.

My dealings with this publisher had been nothing but professional up until this point. I don’t know why this happening–hell, I doubt I’ll ever know the real reason. Either way, this hostile takeover is completely volatile and undeniably uncalled for.

My book should be disappearing from the web within the next 24 hours. If for some reason it doesn’t, I will say this: I do not endorse the edition of An Amorous Thing that Lame Goat Press has put out. I have withdrawn my support from it. As such, I do not recommend you buy this version of the book.

I’ve been meaning to do a post like this for a while. Since I first saw and read Rhiannon Frater’s Ten Women Writers and Their Influence on Me post, it’s got me thinking about the writers who have ultimately shifted and affected my stance on not only my writing, but my life as well. It’s amazing to think of what books can do to a person, but to know their true power? It’s almost incomprehensible. If you asked a person on the side of the street what book changed their life, how many honest responses would you get, if any at all?

It’s a sad thing when you know that people aren’t reading anymore. The power that can lie in a book can be a great thing. It can change your outlook, your perspective, or even save your life. I’ve had my fair share of books that have ultimately changed my life. I can only hope others have as well.

Any ‘top ten’ of my author lists would not be complete without the undisputed master of the horror genre. Born in Portland, Maine in the late 1950s, Stephen King is most arguably well known for novels such as Carrie, Salem’s Lot, The Shining, Cujo and as of late, Cell, Lisey’s Story, Duma Key and Under the Dome. Since his arrival in the early seventies, he’s been an unstoppable force in the horror genre. None of his work has gone out of print due to bad sales or extraneous financial difficulties on his publisher’s part. The only novel I claim to know that has gone out of print was Rage, a story about a high school shooting that is said to have inspired the Columbine case in conjunction with Marilyn Manson’s song The Nobodies. I first read Stephen King’s work in late 2006, when I was just starting to stray toward the horror genre after watching the remake of Dawn of the Dead. The novel I read, Rose Madder, featured a battered woman, a husband who wanted complete and utter control, and a painting which seemed to resonate something much, much deeper. It is because of Stephen King that I ultimately stepped into the horror genre and have become the writer I am today. For that, I cannot thank him. From killer dogs, to alien predators, to zombies and things that lurk in mirrors and lost novels, Stephen King is a force to be reckoned with–a divine source of inspiration for any writer who treads toward the darker side of the utterly-close veil.

The second author I’m about to introduce is someone a lot of you probably already know. My history with such an illustrious mistress of a macabre is part personal, part fantastical. I first ‘met’ Poppy Z. Brite due to a situation where she was being stalked by a homophobic fanatic on the internet, one I myself had the displeasure of crossing paths with. Having heard of her before, but never read her work, I took my first plunge into her world in late 2008 when I ordered all three of her horror novels off Amazon. The first of these novels was Drawing Blood, a tale of a young man who survives a vicious murder-suicide concocted by his own father. It tells the story of Trevor, an aimless wanderer who is returning to the town of Missing Mile, Louisiana in order to bring his ghosts out of the closet. Having been heralded by friends and critics alike as one of the most disturbing horror writers around, and having been praised by Peter Straub by saying she could write a guidebook to Hell that would make someone want to go there, I had nothing but high expectations when diving into her work. To my great and utter pleasure, that was exactly what I got. Poppy has this power that not many people have. She can create a situation that seems normal upon first glance, but horrific upon a second. She has a way of slowly uncovering a story for you like a mortician would the inside of a corpse. Her characters are fascinatingly real in a sense that allows you to see them as extremely flawed individuals, her scenarios are completely and utterly terrifying, her prose is magical and poetic in nature, and her villains (oftentimes not as human as they seem or claim to be) are so well drawn that you’re often feeling sympathetic for them. A great example of this affectionate behavior lies in her novel Lost Souls, where several of her ‘antagonists’ don’t seem to be that at all, but something completely more. I can honestly say that though I’ve only read her horror novels, she is an author whom I know can write anything she wants to. Having authored a New Orleans-food quartet (with the fourth coming very, very soon,) as well as a biography on Courtney Love, she’s a writer who can touch something dead and make it come back to life, albeit just a little darker than it already, previously was.

Many people are surprised to hear that I enjoy reading literary and contemporary fiction. Why, I’m not particularly sure, but there’s something about opening a book that deals with nothing remotely supernatural that makes me tingle on the inside. One such writer whose work I am always willing to read is Jennifer Haigh, author of the Pen/Hemmingway award-winning novel Mrs. Kimble and two other works, Baker Towers and The Condition. My first exposure to Jennifer’s work was The Condition, which I bought on impulse from a ‘ten books for .99 cents’ bookclub deal. Almost immediately after the book arrived, I read the first three pages and found that I couldn’t stop. I abandoned the book I’d been previously reading and threw myself headfirst into a world of Turner Syndrome, a condition in which a person never physically grows into adulthood. As heartbreaking as it is to read about a woman who never really becomes a woman, Jennifer’s strengths lie in telling family stories–epics in the modern, contemporary world that focus on what happens to a family when tragedy strikes a one of their loved ones. The personal correspondence I’ve had with Miss. Haigh has been nothing but pleasant. According to her, her next novel is scheduled to come out in Spring 2011. Seeing as how I’m almost done with her second novel Baker Towers, it’s going to be hard waiting for her next masterpiece to come out. An author whose work I’m always excited to read, Jennifer has done wonders with the way she’s inspired me. I can’t think her enough for her artistry.

This next author holds a very, very dear place in my heart. The son of vampire authoress Anne Rice, I had never previously heard of Christopher Rice until I came upon a Fantastic Fiction page on Anne herself. Connected on a family tree with both her sister as well as her son, I found Christopher Rice at a time in my life when I was heavily struggling with my sexuality. At fourteen, soon to be fifteen-years-old, I bought his book with as many preconceived notions as I could imagine. What is this? I asked. Who is he? What else is inside this story, if not a tale of friends breaking apart? Somehow, someway, something told me that I had to read his work, if only because it might offer me the solace I needed. I read the majority of his first novel A Density of Souls on a high school drama field trip. On the way up to the play we were attending, I was completely and utterly engrossed in the story about Stephen and his coming-of-age with his sexuality. Halfway through the book (about the time where Stephen is falling in love,) I put the book down, looked out the window, and finally admitted it to myself–I was gay, and there was nothing physically or morally wrong with it. The revelation forced me into a sort of daze, especially when I got out of the bus and started walking up to the collge with my fellow peers. Though I’d denied it for such a long time, I finally realized that I was different and accepted myself for that difference. Had I not read Christopher Rice’s book, I would probably still be at that point in my life–alone, confused, afraid of what people would think of me. I can’t thank him enough for how much he has changed my life. Though his writing has undoubtedly influenced me as a writer, it was his story of a young gay man living in a town where everyone seemed against him that helped me realize who I really was. For that, I can never thank him. I would place A Density of Souls on top of the list of the books that changed my life.

They say the good die young and that all great artists are ultimately destined for death. Who says that is beyond my recognition, but regardless, Tristan Egolf was a writer that did many things to me as a budding talent. Shortly after discovering my true love of horror and the darker genres, I stumbled upon a book in Barnes and Noble that would ultimately change my perspective in regards to straightforward writing. There’s no way to describe his final novel, Kornwolf, without resorting to using a hit-and-miss description. As a whole, the novel is about a town terrorized by a werewolf, but the story is anything but that. It revolves around a reporter stalking the ‘creature,’ boxing, and the life of the town being haunted by a monstrosity who can run as fast as cars and incite terror with its appearance alone. It doesn’t have to kill people to cause a scare–the fleeting presence of it disappearing into the cornfields is enough to scare anyone who sees it. Regardless of its scattered plot, Kornwolf was ultimately ended in a way that simply says ‘this story never ends.’ Shortly after Tristan finished the novel, he committed suicide with a shotgun. To say that the world lost an amazing talent in Mr. Egolf is an understatement. His writing was unique, his storytelling powerful, his characters real. Compared to Stephen King by several reviewers, he could’ve had a long and successful career had the world not ended the life of an incredibly powerful writer.

Though he might most arguably be considered to be the creator of the twenty-first century Jaws, Steve Alten has created something that I’ve been following since I first discovered his fiction three years in high school. Meg, the tale of a giant creature known as carcharodon megaladon, follows a man named Jonas Taylor, who stumbled upon such a creature while deep sea diving with a crew of marine biologists. The sole survivor of the mission, his goal in life has been to prove that the creature is still existing, but he falls short when people believe his evidence to be nothing more than speculation. The story takes a turn for the worst when Jonas and a fellow submariner happen to find the creature. In a twist of events, the creature is able to rise from the depths of the ocean and into the public eye. All hell breaks loose from there, and only Jonas can vanquish the creature he helped bring to the surface. The Meg series is not the only thing Alten has written though. Along with a suspense novel about the Loch Ness Monster, he’s written military thrillers and much, much more. Though Steve might be considered no more than a ‘fun’ writer to some, his writing is incredibly clean and sharp. His style leaves no room for error as he effortlessly shoots you through the story as quickly as the reader can muster. With a Meg movie on the horizon, and the fifth book to follow soon after, I can’t wait to continue with the series. Meg has always been fun, if only because Alten has brought the giant shark back to life in ways not many have been able to.

Though he might famously (or infamously) be known for becoming an overnight sensation due to his appearance on Oprah’s Book Club, David Wroblewski is a talent that has come along after many, many hard years of work. The author of the literary novel The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, David is the product of determination and the need to tell a story. Interviews with him state that he went back to school in order to learn how to write, just to tell a story about a young mute boy and the dogs his family raise. Part coming-of-age, part thriller, Edgar Sawtelle is an epic novel in terms of location and story. When I first read it, I couldn’t believe what exactly I was reading. To be reading a dog about dog raising, then about murder? What does it mean to cross genres so drastically, especially given the stability of the first hundred or so pages of the book? Regardless, his writing and his determination to tell a story is incredibly aspiring to anyone who wants to become a writer. Having gone through at least ten drafts of his novel, it’s astounding that he didn’t up and quit. Many do end up quitting when they have to work so hard to get something. Months, even years of effort can break a creative person down, but not Wroblewski. His determination eventually landed him on the New York Times bestseller list, along with praise from people such as Oprah and Stephen King. With a beautiful, haunting storyline and viewpoints ranging from a mute boy, his troubled mother and the dogs they raise, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle is magical in a very real sense.

It might seem as though that I was ultimately supposed to end up writing horror and dark fiction. Before I ever entered the realm of ‘real’ horror, I read a dark fantasy series that haunts me to this very day. The Abhorsen Trilogy by Garth Nix tells the story of a group of anti-necromancers called Abhorsens, whose job is to send the dead back to the world they come from. The first in this epic trilogy, Sabriel, follows the story of a young charter mage who is thrust into a dangerous adventure after a spirit comes to tell her that her father may be dead. Spurred on by the knowledge that her father may be trapped in the Old Kingdom, a place where little but death resides, Sabriel dons the bells the spirit brings her and goes on her journey, only to discover that the world is so much different than she seems. Set in a world that’s similar to World War 2 in structure, but with magic, The Abhorsen Trilogy is full of magic and suspense. For a YA series of novels, it’s incredibly surprising how dark and full of detail they are. I can’t recall an encounter with the dead in the first book that didn’t unsettle me. Graphic in nature, spirits are made of flesh and bone that inhabit dead corpses in the hopes of killing others to sustain them in life, less they get washed into the world of death before they’re ultimately banished. The magic system in the world is amazing, as is the structure that ultimately makes the world its own. Garth Nix is, in a way, the ladder I started up to writing darker fiction. His narrative of necromancers who send back the dead brings a unique twist on the whole legend. I can’t recommend his work enough. I can only hope that he’ll someday revisit the world he created. Though I love his Seventh Tower series, as well as the the few books I read in his Keys to the Kingdom series, Abhorsen continues to haunt me, regardless of how long ago I read it.

From approximately the sixth to eighth grade, I was hooked on a fantasy world otherwise known as Tortall. Tamora Pierce, a young adult writer who specializes in writing stories about female mages and knights, became my obsession for approximately two years, during which time I read twelve of her books. From The Lioness Quartet to Protector of the Small, there was little else I could read during my middle school years. Her ability as a storyteller isn’t the main thing that sets her fantasy epics apart from other writers–it’s her female heros. Oftentimes misunderstood girls who want to become knights or women who have magical powers, the people that inhabit Pierce’s world are flavorful and distinct. From the mythology she creates entirely on her own, to the magic that flows from the hands of men and women alike, anything she writes is bound to be magical. Entertaining isn’t a world I could use, if only because when you’re reading a Tamora Pierce book, you’re not being entertained, you’re being captivated. Her stories won’t let you go. They’re addicting. Once you start, you’ll find it very hard to stop. Despite the fact that she writes for a younger audience, the themes in her work mature as her quartets go along. Sex and love are only slight components that fuel her character’s worries and fears. Heroism, honor, valor, love, strength, passion–any adjective you think of can describe the women that she writes about. I’d highly recommend her work not only to young adults, but to fans of fantasy who might be looking for something a little different. Trust me when I say her heroines are more than just women who hide behind men. These women don the armor in this world. They wield the sword when war comes and when their friends, family and kingdoms must be protected.

Last, but certainly not least, is a woman who inspired a generation to read. Joanne Rowling, otherwise known as J.K Rowling, is the visionary behind the multi-million dollar epic known only as Harry Potter. The story of a boy who lives in a closet, but eventually becomes a wizard, the Harry Potter saga is one series of books that most everyone knows about. I don’t think there’s a person alive who doesn’t known the name Harry Potter. From books, to movies, to games, puzzles, memorabilia and so much more, Joanne Rowling went from rags to riches in less than a five-year period after the stories began. Originally on welfare and supporting her daughter, she wrote the Harry Potter series in a coffee shop on a manual typewriter. After having been rejected numerous times, a slush editor noticed the title, began to read the book, and became enthralled by its story. No sooner than the slush editor put the story on the head editors desk was the novel sold. Since then, Harry Potter has gone on to sell more than four-hundred-million copies and become one of the most successful movie franchises of all time, skyrocketing Rowling into the ranks of the most successful writers of all time. I myself started the Harry Potter series right before the fifth book came out and literally devoured them. I read all four books in less than two months and started on the fifth soon after. When the sixth and seventh followed, I devoured them like something amazing and wonderful, only to be left with a hollow pit in my chest when I was finished. How could something so amazing be done, just like that? Regardless, the epic monster that the Harry Potter series became is something to be not only desired, but worked toward. For a woman who lived on welfare to a woman who became a titan in the fantasy world, J.K Rowling’s story has always inspired me to not look back with my work. When you’re down and out, you have to push yourself back up. Only the love for your work can save you in the end.

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The ten writers I have listed above have changed my life in ways that I can’t even begin to explain. From inspiring me to write horror, to showing me who I really was, the ten men and women whom you’ve just read about have allowed me to become the person I am today. They, above all, are recommended–not only as writers, but people. They are examples of what we as individuals can achieve if only we try our hardest. I know I’ll always look up to them. Hopefully someday you will too.

Asking for another person’s help has always been an extreme weakness of mine. Regardless of how close I’ve been to any teacher, any friend or any person, I’ve always found it hard to ask someone for something that might bother or burden them. Most of the time, I’m content with trying to make things work for myself. A grand example of this occurred when I walked into a Dollar Store and tried to find a tub of cat litter. Having not been in the store for several weeks, I was unaware that the layout had changed, so I paced the halls trying to locate the pet section. Eventually–after not being able to find it–I had to ask the person who was managing the store at the time.

‘Back there,’ she said, pointing her finger as though I should have known where it was on my own.

I’ve gone through repeated occurrences of this throughout my life, particularly since I entered my teenage years. I hated asking teachers for help for fear of being thought of as stupid, I hated asking people for directions because I was afraid they’d think I was blindly searching, and I hated asking people for things that I thought might put them out of their way. A drive to the store, money to purchase a Pepsi, requesting to take the car to go somewhere in town–it all sums up to the negative connotation that I’m putting people out of their way.

Because of this inane fear of being turned away, I’ve had to humble myself over the past little while, especially in writing this blog post.

So… without further ado, I have to ask for help that I’ve been wanting and trying to ask for since New Year’s.

My story is simply, incredibly simple in essence. My name is Kody Boye. I’m a writer who suffers with depression and anxiety disorder due to the situations I endure on a daily basis. I live in a small Mormon town in Southeastern Idaho, have few (if any) friends to speak of in the immediate area, and live with the stigma of being a young gay man. I can’t openly be myself for fear that I’ll get harassed, mobbed or lynched, I can’t get get a job due because of notorious family relationships and a reputation I myself did not create, and I’m literally without a life to speak of. I don’t attend school due to an incident in which someone at my local high school insinuated that I posted a death threat on MySpace, I don’t have my old friends anymore because they stopped caring, and whenever I’ve tried to make changes in my life, they’ve always backfired. I ‘moved’ to Denver for two months, then was promptly asked to leave because I could be ‘doing the same things I was doing there at home,’ despite the fact that I put out at least ten different applications to varying stores in the area; I attempted to get a job at the local paper with my (in my opinion) impressive literary resume, but have not received word back yet, and have attempted to start freelancing in terms of editing and interior book design, but the work (and the pay checks) aren’t coming in steadily enough to insure that I’ll be out of here by the time I’ve turned eighteen.

Honestly, I think I can say that my life is somewhat of a tragedy, if I do say so myself. I’m highly aware that people are going to read this and think, ‘But you have more than anyone your age could ask for,’ but there comes a time in life in which you have to look at something objectively. I’m fully aware that I have a talent my peers would kill for, but I’m also aware that this talent is a slow-acting process. Sure–I have a book out, another accepted, another contracted to be rewritten, and a plethora of short story earnings I have yet to receive, but the process itself is what’s keeping my writing from being something I’m concretely look at as something that can support me. I can say my writing will support me if I’m getting paid more than three cents a word. I can say my writing will support me if I’m receiving advances for my novels and collection. I can say my writing will support me if I’m getting deals, and I can say my writing will support me if I’m putting out a steady output. Since none of those things are occurring, I (and any logical person) can only concur that my writing will not support me.

The stress of living in the environment I’m living in physically drains me, often to the point where I lay in bed for hours on end when I ‘wake up’ in the morning thinking about how much I don’t want to get out of bed, it emotionally drains me because it’s like living in a glass box that someone can throw a stone at and won’t, and it mentally drains me because it keeps the stimuli I normally look to for satisfaction from working with properly. What you’re reading here isn’t even the complete story–it’s fragments of it. Had I the ability to tell you the full story, I would, but I can’t, so I’ll say this–nights are arduous and full of despair, weekends are three days of not knowing what will happen, and the hours that follow afterward are filled with contemplation. Do I do this, do I do that, should I do it before I can’t do it or should I force it to make it worth it? My time in Denver–even as stressful as my family relations made it–offered me a glimpse of hope in the fact that I can living in a nonstressful environment, that I should be able to live in one without fear of something depression or aggravating me. I’m aware that life outside of my home won’t be without its despairs, but at this point, will jumping off a cliff into the great beyond really be that bad?

I don’t know.

With this said, I’m asking for any help I can. Be it a dollar, two, three, or even more, I’m asking for whatever you’re willing to throw at me in preparation of the life that’s going to follow after I turn eighteen. If anyone who reads this and has even the slightest bit of compassion donates a dollar, that will be more than anyone else could have given me. Thinking about it now, I’m scared as hell about turning eighteen. Liberation comes in the form of the age of consent, but without costs? No. I’ll loose health insurance when I hit the big 1-8 under my parent’s policy because I’m not in school, but I can’t go to school because I can’t afford it. How will I ever afford it if I can’t get a job, especially in an area where I’ve already been prejudged due to actions that were not my own?

Either way… here’s to jumping off the cliff.

The chip-in widget is at the side. Please… a dollar will help. LESS than that will help. At this point, I’m asking for whatever I can get, even if it’s just sympathy.

As humbling as this is, I hope people will realize that I’m not doing this without shame.

Thank you,

~ Kody