Poof

by J.M. Tolcher

Part provocateur, part seducer, this young gay man's account of life offers one of the freshest takes on Australia and the world today.

Honouring poets of the past - Jean Genet, Veronica Franco, Euripides, Hunter S Thompson, Oscar Wilde - and joining in their task of finding meaning in existence and the modern world, Tolcher has produced a brazenly honest debut without precedent.

Through his writing, he subverts his own shame, weaponises it, and positions himself as an anti-hero of our time right when we need him the most.

Following his humble beginnings as an outcast in the dreary outer suburbs of Brisbane and escalating into a Dionysian, poetic and pornographic international climax, Poof reverberates through our political hemisphere.

In an age of victimhood, Tolcher offers us a roadmap to empowerment and integrity as he pulls back the curtain on both our pride and our shame, and shines a spotlight on a hidden history that has been erased time and again.


James Tolcher is a writer from Brisbane, Australia.

Genres: Queer, Australia, Memoir, LGBT, Biography

223 pages, Kindle Edition

Published April 27, 2023

Reviews

[Adam Cornish · Rating 2 out of 5]

I make no claims to understand the prose or allusions to other authors' writing, as I do not have the background or expertise. My review is in terms of the content and the overall message.

What is that message? That James holds truth and that he will be silent no longer...I suppose in the fact that he has written a book? Perhaps I have not dived deeply enough, but I do not get what the "truth" is, other than he is an individual with great pain in his life, much of which he welcomes.

It's common for fiction writers to use an unreliable narrator in order to complicate a story or obfuscate what is "real" to enable surprises throughout a narrative. In contrast, all non-fiction that recounts personal lives are driven by unreliable narrators - no person can be depended upon to give an objective account of their life.

In Poof, James presents a narrative that stretches credulity and, in my mind, is the most unreliable of narrators. To believe him, we must accept that no person as ever treated him with true kindness, that his decisions are always the correct ones, and that he is both simultaneously victimized by everyone he meets AND always perfect control of himself and his situation.

James, who cannot keep himself from repeatedly engaging in relationships with men who do not value him, believes that he has the expertise to address others' mental issues. He attempts to break his "piggy" through pain and desire and deprivation in order to teach him, but fails in this and supposedly receives this man's blessing.

I strongly emphathize with young James and the travesties that he has to suffer. Many people failed him. And the trauma that he lived through lingers into adulthood, impairing his ability to mature and grow. Unfortunately, there is a point where he must take ownership of his choices and seek self-care outside of his own mental faculties, friends, sex, and drugs. If he is truly the author of his own life story and grow, he must take steps to heal that expand beyond a victimhood mentality.

In sum, this seems like an infantile manuscript that attempts to emulate authors that James admires, even as he uses the narrative to explain, excuse, and glorify the choices he's made in his life.

[David Allwood · Rating 5 out of 5]

James Tolcher’s (as J.M. Tolcher) debut memoir, ‘Poof’ is extraordinary. It is overwhelming. It is awful. And it is stunning. Expecting another routine coming-out story, the unsuspecting reader is immediately drawn into a disorienting maze of challenging and unsettling ideas, confronting situations of depravity, stimulating arguments of theory, and bleak pornographic violence. The author is unashamed in his righteous search for truth and also in his rage against being ‘the other’. ‘Poof’ is very sophisticated writing by a novice who has lived in extreme unsophisticated disfunction. If Critical Race Theory is an oppression of Black minorities, then surely ‘Critical Gay Theory’ is a thing. The unrelenting march of gay rights has gained much, but this author evidences a victims life of built-in organisational and cultural biases, deforming and stunting the gay community and forcing disadvantage. This writer has thought of concepts of which we remain completely unaware, and if presenting such truths is uncomfortable and confronting then we owe it to him to pay the price. What ever we pay the author has paid more. This is a book to savour, question, and quote. This is a book to love and hate. This is a book from which to learn. This is a book to dread. This is quite a book.

[Craig and Phil · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you James for gifting us a copy to read and review.
A raw, compelling and seductive debut novel about the journey of coming out, physical and emotional validation and exposing an element of the fetish landscape. Aspects will resonate with the gay readership and heterosexual readers will get a gritty eye opening experience.
James knew he was different at a young age and experienced a tumultuous and scarring time at school.
Finding your people a priority in a world that has norms, bullies and ignorance.
Adulthood paved the way for nightclubs, sexual encounters and exploration.
Moving abroad, discovering the world of fetish and enduring painful yet fulfilling experiences.
Interwoven homage to poet greats, strong writing and a story that is not often captured on pages awaits those ready to indulge in this.
This had my attention immediately as I was drawn in and terrified at the same time.
I was able to relate partially and realised the diversity and lifestyles in my world are immense.

[Noah Baumann · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book at request of a friend who helped edit the story. This book was phenomenal. I have never met someone who so perfectly and concisely depicts being a young “attractive” queer person and how both heterosexual society and the lgbtqia+ community can treat them. Growing up queer with a family who was not willing to hear the obivious truth, and the youth of early schooling hating and hurting us. To men in our community feeling that because you’re young you’re dumb and expendable. It’s a grim reality which ends in self acceptance and reclaiming of one’s identity and power. Thank you for writing such a masterpiece and for sharing your story with us all.

[Jake Andrew · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book had me absolutely encapsulated. Once you begin this journey you will find yourself drawn in with the authors incredible writing style.
If you are from the same background, you will feel the pain of your childhood... You will understand the present... And you will feel the danger associated with the choices that you have been presented in your life and how things can turn out.
If you are from a heterosexual background you will be presented with a raw understanding of the the feelings and life that your peers face. This book will open your eyes to another world.
This book will mean a lot of things to a lot of different people. One thing remains clear... This is a true story. This is a life that has been lived. This is the life of a brave boy. This is the life of a talented author.

[Ruby · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tragic yet triumphant.

[Peter Dayton · Rating 5 out of 5]

A version of the following review (some small edits), written by myself, was published in Issue #283 of DNA Magazine. This review contains some spoilers.

Australian author James Tolcher’s debut book Poof is a harrowingly truthful biography. The book is an achievement and a chronicle of achievements: a “curriculum vitae”, as Tolcher puts it, of if not triumphs then survivals. Taken together, these survivals construct a panorama of the traumas and hostilities which punctuate, define or redefine, and sometimes end queer lives. That Tolcher has survived to tell his tales is an achievement all its own. That he does so with gripping prose is the achievement that hopefully will persuade readers to buy and read this profound and timely book.

Tolcher tells his story in a series of anecdotes, moving chronologically from his childhood to early adulthood, scaffolded in 5 sections with Anne Carson-like, Dionysian interstitials. Starting with his early years, Tolcher recounts bullying and exclusion from his peers (enabled by teachers and authority figures) and clashes with adults over his difference. While growing up with loving and supporting parents (his father is the first of four Michaels highlighted in the book), he is given no guidance, only silence when it comes to one of the central questions of his identity and the reason for his torment. He learns the power of the word “poof,” but both family and peers refuse to clarify the label with which he has been branded. The effect of this torment from all sides has drastic mental and physiological consequences: extreme anxiety, resulting in debilitating shyness and constant indigestion and diarrhea that permanently shaped his physical development. At moments he almost finds solidarity with other queer youth, but those opportunities pass quickly. Through willpower, he is able to transfer from his soul-crushing school to an arts and technical academy which is an oasis, if too little too late. These first two chapters are peppered with flashes to the near-present: fragments of gay nightlife and parties with their own paranoias, bullying and excesses.

After school life, Tolcher escapes Australia for London where he has his first sexual experiences away from the hostilities of home. Exploitative work situations reinforce Tolcher’s disillusionment with WASP respectability and the Protestant Work Ethic, and after a brief time, he returns home to Brisbane (to work situations no better than abroad). Again seeking escape, he connects through the internet with a high-profile CEO in Sweden, “M.M.” (another Michael), and enters into a Master/Slave dynamic with him. He serves as the live-in sex toy for this Swedish high-ranked executive for a while. Eventually Tolcher grows to feel he deserves emotional commitment from M.M. and returns home unrequited (though he remains in touch). Throughout this third chapter, Tolcher again returns to the near-present, inserting lurid sadomasochistic sessions with “Pig” (another Michael) involving physical torture, meth use, exhibitionism and financial domination; a reversal of the roles of Dom and Sub that Tolcher experienced with M.M. that blurs dark fantasy with shocking reality.

Tolcher meets other sadistic men who take him to places many kinksters only find in erotic fiction. Bondage, flogging, public sex, and objectification become Tolcher’s connection to competitive men who project self-confidence and delight in his capacity for physical pain. Men around him introduce Tolcher to the scene of Leather bars, clubs, and contests, and he enters gay BDSM’s social world with enthusiasm and even more sexual exploits. Despite his volunteering and contributions, he is twice snubbed in his efforts to win leather bar contests. It is amid this involvement that Tolcher recounts the arc of his relationship with, Jeremy, a man whose initial tenderness and affection gives way to physical and psychological abusive.

In the final chapter, Tolcher introduces the final Michael, an arch-embodiment of the series of sadistic men who extract Tolcher’s pain for their own pleasure while denying him genuine commitment. He intercuts these hair-raising physical tortures and heartaches with his witnessing a relationship between his friend Jacob and Jacob’s wealthy boyfriend Andy. Filled with glamorous destinations as the backdrop for drug and alcohol-fueled squabbles between Jacob and Andy, their toxic relationship culminates in a climax that, in a book full of shocks, reaches yet a new level of extremity. Finally, Tolcher breaks off from this last Michael to establish his own independence and sense of self.

Writing in a range of modes, including exalted, Whitmanesque pronouncements, postmodern, dialogues, and his own voice of mannered outrage, Tolcher recounts key experiences that both defined his queerness and illuminate how his queerness defined his experience of life. Cutting across the five chapters of the book are two distinct narratives: First, Tolcher’s childhood and his journey to understanding his own homosexuality, intercut with fragments of relationships with several of the Michaels that mark his life (roughly summarized as his survival within the cruel, homophobic majority). Second, Tolcher’s adult experiences of his Australian queer community and a more straightforward accounting of other relationships that have marked his life (and body; his survival against the cruel and similarly traumatized minority who should have been comrades).

Tolcher carefully constructs his flow chart of cause and effect, and it is his eloquence and articulation of the causality between majoritarian, chauvinistic cruelty and the suffering of queer people makes this book more urgent and timelier than ever. He diligently connects the anecdotal to the structural: the oppressive silence used to starve him of understanding, the oppressive politeness that twists self-defense to look like petulance, the oppressive conformism that twists self-affirmation to look like narcissism and twists rebellion to look like laziness. These are not simply devices created to torture Tolcher alone (although the pain is always personal, wrenching, spirit-breaking) but wholesale programs, mindsets, and value systems designed to suffocate nonconformity out of existence.

Reading Poof, I was struck by the fact that one need only strip away the trappings of modern technology and new recreational drugs for Tolcher’s experiences to fit neatly alongside narratives of queer and trans lives that sexologist Magnus Hirschfeld documented in Berlin in the first decades of the 20th century, before a radical right wing movement known as the Nazis destroyed his major repository in 1933. Now again, we are seeing a wave of Christian Nationalists bent on queer genocide. First and foremost, the genocide of the mind: of knowing what can possibly exist, erasing queer identities from protective policy, from textbooks, from public life. In my own country of the United States, right-wing candidates for state and national office campaign proudly on promises drawn from the Nazis’ playbook for queer erasure. This first half of Poof is the story of the world desired by Conservative politicians and astroturfed coalitions of ‘concerned parents.’ Cruelty upon cruelty is heaped on Tolcher for his difference from peers and from teachers, who notice and sense his difference but give no guidance or insight to give him beyond how unacceptable his difference is. When Tolcher finally comes out to his parents, his mother shouts “I knew it!” This moment, often a point of relief and triumph in queer narratives, has a bitter taste to it: If his mother knew it, why couldn’t Tolcher himself, then, access that knowledge? What suffering is caused by the adult suppression of information that children need to make sense of the world? “SILENCE = DEATH” is what ACTUP taught us during the HIV/AIDS crisis.

What is the weapon against silence? A voice. That is what Poof is, and Tolcher wields his voice in prose like a weapon, the vengeful glint of a supervillain in his eye. There is something of the supervillain monologue in Tolcher’s logic of suffering. He tells you how he suffered, he tells you that he will no longer suffer in silence, no matter the cost. There is certainly a long history of queer coded supervillains and antiheroes in entertainment and culture, and Tolcher draws upon this queer legacy that hasn’t been successfully destroyed by Nazis or their spiritual descendants. For those who are not queer, or who are and have miraculously lived without experiencing anything that resonates with Tolcher’s anecdotes, his incisive writing recounting these incidents will surely inspire them to take up a laser death ray in solidarity to join his call to suffer the hypocrites no longer. Tolcher is a convincing and sympathetic anti-hero. His crimes (figurative and literal) have rationales: they are reparations, they are specific acts of rebellion, with a focus on, above all, survival. His substance abuse is a symptom of the escapism of all outcast subcultures, a grasp (however doomed) against nihilistic despair. Poof is Tolcher’s barbaric yawp—a throat-tearing shriek that is meant to ring in its readers’ ears long after: this is what the silence of heteronormative, WASP respectability costs for queer people, this is the price of ignorance on a human body and psyche. Writing as an American, the fact that Tolcher is Australian does not diminish Poof’s relevance for different local contexts. The fight for queer recognition is global.

Tolcher’s relationship and role in the life of the man named Michael/Pig is certainly the most morally complicated and difficult parts of the self-portrait that Poof creates. Here language gets treacherous. Many queer people, in the process of their discovering their identity (against all odds), come to embrace sex as a natural, biological, social, and psychological need. This affirmation is counter to the ideas engrained in us by a culture established through European Christian conquest, colonization, and genocide. Thus, as sex-embracing queers we already start out as filthy deviants. So how to discuss the physical possibilities of fetishism, consensual sadomasochism, fantasy-roleplaying without using the language of our oppressors? In Poof, the problem only deepens, as Tolcher connects his both his acts of sadism and masochism as being intimately connected with processing his trauma-induced lack of self-worth. The Pig sequences unfold in a fragmented narrative structure that Tolcher employs to create clear meaning in what some readers might be tempted to dismiss as senseless depravity. In Poof, depravity always has a sense. Actions have motivation, and Tolcher’s limit-pushing (mostly) consensual cruelty to Pig is transformed into a combined form of personal-therapy, queer mentoring, and supervised injection site. The twist of a sex-affirmative attitude perpetuating and processing sex-negative trauma confronts the reader head-on in the Pig scenes and in the second half of the book, where we see how abuse from the heteronormative world exposes the traumatized to the dangers of abuses from within the queer world.

Some characters in Poof are less harmful. Others, drastically more so. In the book Tolcher’s romantic/kink relationships are characterized by desperate devotion. They start with the socially-reinforced premise that he is worthless, and so it follows that the men who do show him attention are the best chance he will have at personal validation, no matter the price. They find him worthy at least of a beating, and so he takes it. With no confidence himself, Tolcher is quick to confuse confidence with competence and ends up with, among others, several Michaels with fantasies of control and physical violence and underdeveloped emotional intelligences (or, in one case, severe mental health and substance abuse issues). Tolcher’s spirit, crushed by the time he reaches his teen years, has no vocabulary of self-assertion to stop from being used and abused by these men as he searches of love and acceptance. It is wrenching to read these scenes of him being helplessly bound and beaten, looking for love from men whose attraction to him is not his wit and spirit, but his sheer capacity for pain. Looming over all of these scenes are Tolcher’s true bonds and restraints: his own traumatically-induced arrested social and emotional development. His skillful writing and naked honesty make these passages appropriately hard to read. We gasp with him, we feel the emotional release when at last he walks away or is perfunctorily abandoned.

The trials aren’t confined to Tolcher’s intimate relationships. Movingly he speaks to how queer communities at large, made up of hundreds of individuals personally traumatized by the same oppressive society, bring their traumas to their communal space and often use those spaces to reenact those traumas rather than heal from them. Tolcher recounts his experiences of gatekeeping, exclusion, and petty power politics within the leather/kink scene. Having themselves been battered by the larger society, but having claimed a space for their own, the bullies of these spaces lack any originality that queer culture can push beyond or imagine new social dynamics. These spaces and their gatekeeper show no social imagination analogous to their innovations in sexual pleasure. Instead, they use their traumatically-gained knowledge of “the way the real world works” (a phrase Tolcher’s tormenters frequently invoke) to reproduce the majority’s cruelties in their minority space. What could we expect? Branded and cast out as monsters, so many of us have little experience beyond our needs to survive and a lifetime of conditioning that we are monsters. Some of us act monstrously, go figure.

So where does all this end, this grief and grievance? It ends where it started, with Tolcher alive (happily), angry (understandably), and proud (deservedly). In Poof, Tolcher searches for love, no matter the cost. In the end he finds knowledge, truth, and it is unvarnished truth to which he pledges his devotion and servitude. I wish them well. it seems like the start of a truly healing relationship.

[Stuart Austin · Rating 2 out of 5]

I found this book pretty hard to read honestly. The author is I think the same age as me and also grew up in Brisbane as a young gay man so culturally, it interested me. I really did want to like the book- Brisbane based authors are few and far between after all. But I found the content pretty gruesome and the style bordering on self-congratulatory and indulgent. I found the interspersed poetry off-putting and distracting, almost like the author felt it necessary to prove their intellectual thoughts. The themes of sado-masochism are not often written about and worthy of discussion but in this instance I have to say it missed the mark. Having said that I did love the reminiscent references to the late 90s gay cultural icons. Definitely not one for people easily offended or upset by themes of sexual violence.

[Keegs · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read it in two days, deeply personal, deeply moving. An exquisite portrayal of men and violence from a perspective hardly ever seen.

Truly believe the universe put this book in my path at a Devine time.

[Jeremy Baker · Rating 5 out of 5]

Extraordinary, Harrowing, Riveting

I was transfixed. I couldn’t stop reading even when I wanted to stop in horror. So much trauma and pain conveyed in such astonishingly powerful language. So many things far outside my experience - and yet not so far I can’t feel the impact of them. I’ve seen aspects of these experiences in the lives of others - but never come even close to the full terrifying range covered in this story. Reading this wasn’t a pleasure, but it was deeply, deeply affecting. I will be trying to resolve the impact for a very long time.

[Charles · Rating 5 out of 5]

More enthralling and audacious than a debut book ought to be, but I suppose anyone who’s lived a life like the author deserves to lash out.

Tolcher holds a mirror up for all us queers, and for those not privy to this world, sure, cover your eyes (but you’ll peer through your fingers as each heart-wrenching or sordid scene unfolds).

[David Sweeney · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lent to me by a friend without any notes, after reading the first 75 pages I picked up the phone to let them know that in my opinion you cannot teach someone to write like this. This book is so well written.
Whilst James is only 30 years old (or so I think) there is something very classical about his writing style. Pardon the alliteration, there is an elegance, economy and efficiency that makes it compelling, and though there is a universality to the beginning of the memoir, you instantly recognise that this is a unique voice.
I suspect that given the title and what unfolds this book will no doubt be labelled as queer, but that would be wrong. The relationships that James describes are not confined to the Queer community.
Initially you are drawn to the writing and voice, but as the book progresses it will be only natural for the reader to let the narrative take over, and though shocking (but not unheard of), the writing still shines through. There are shades of Edmund White and Jean Genet, and that is a good thing, but James has his own voice.
I can't wait to see what he does next, especially if it is fiction. Highly recommended - and don't let the title put anyone off

[Benny Callaghan · Rating 5 out of 5]

I recall few books in my life that have affected me so deeply. His story is tragic, horrific, and yet his brazen honesty and truth-telling drew me right in. Tolcher transforms his own shame on every page, almost inviting the reader to embrace every part of their own story and stand strong in the face of their own demons and abusers. His writing is stunning with not a word out of place. Tolcher poetically weaves Greek mythology while remaining fully accessible to his reader.

The language, pace and storytelling will effortlessly carry you along, yet the story itself is dark and difficult. If you are up for looking at the shadows of gay culture and a society that continues to wage its homophobic wars on queer people, then this book will hopefully provide you courage and inspiration to stand strong in your own story and protect those who have been harmed.

I already can't wait to see what Tolcher does next, and I hope that every success comes from the courageous, genuine, and honest way he shared his story.

[james · Rating 2 out of 5]

hmmm :///

[Fabian Tan · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book is a brilliant study of the abject queer, giving voice to the subcultures within subcultures, and showing the humanity of those in it.

It completely sucks you in, through an enigmatic, broken, beautiful protagonist who suffers and rises, underscoring what living on the fringes of society is like for a promising and bright child thwarted by society’s treatment of queer people.

I love in particular Tolcher’s exploration of mental health: challenging notions that mental health conditions and the resulting inability to fit into society, to hold down stable jobs, or succumbing to substances and abusive relationships, are due to individual and personal weakness. But rather, caused by and compounded by the culture of discrimination, bullying, and gaslighting rife in (Australian) society. It’s practically impossible to pick oneself up when you’re constantly beaten down, and are surrounded by other outcasts who only know life in this kind of world.

It’s sad and hopeful. Masochistic yet tender. Humanises the people often judged and dismissed by society, including by queer people of higher status and affluence. And so authentic and relatable it wins you over, and you end up wanting the protagonist to beat the odds, and triumph.

definitely up there with the great books on the human condition and queer narratives.

[Dean Milner · Rating 5 out of 5]

It was completely by chance that I met the author and came across his writing. I was on a crowded beach, away on holiday, and he created an opportunity for me to talk to him. I saw it, braved it, and walked right up across the beach. While first only able to judge on physical attraction I almost immediately read the depth of his experience in his eyes. This chance encounter led me to this book. Me, who never reads books. Enthralled by not only the content, art of format, the witty references, and philosophies to life I was also relating and reflecting to similar school age experiences and how superficially I show up in the world. While the content is at times confronting, the author does a great job of explaining the devolution in early years to a place that seemingly degrades his worth until it’s what becomes familiar in relationships. Yet with hope in his heart, devoid of pity or victimhood, the story is articulated with strength and returns to an internal locus of control. While perhaps biased by my in personal experience, I finished this great true story confident the author is finally scurrying up and over the lip of the bucket. If you don’t understand that reference then that’s every reason why you should indulge in this book.

[nadsylovesbooks · Rating 5 out of 5]

JM Tolcher’s memoir is a complex story that stops and starts at different points of his life. Unflinchingly raw and real, the author displays a brutal and brave honesty as he details key points of his life from childhood into adulthood, across five sections.

This isn’t a happy story, and so wasn’t joyful to read. However, it is poignant and powerful- an important story highlighting aspects of society that are often hidden or ignored.

James gives a voice to the often voiceless in a way that can be both shocking and compelling at the same time. He offers an insightful voice, noting such things as “sometimes multiples motivations can be simultaneously true.”

Given the mentions of poets, such as Euripides, Veronica Franco and Hunter S Thompson, it is not surprising that there is a sense of poetry in Tolcher’s memoir. This is such a well written story.

With its graphic descriptions and content Poof won’t be for everyone. However, if you go along this voyage with the author you will not be disappointed. Thank you so much James for gifting me a copy of this thought provoking book in return for my honest review.

[Nathan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This memoir was something else. What James has shown here is there is power in things that some would see as being a victim. This book struck me as somber at times, but James didn't hold back and the detail in his life, and becoming the man he is today (and a very powerful man he seems to be in the S&M scene); not a victim of his past, but someone who took that and made it his own.

I'm rambling, but his life, a deep dive into part of the gay world I have never been privy to (nor want to be) had me feel sad for him, but also, happy that he is comfortable with who he is.

From feeling worthless to becoming someone who feels some worth - James has shown me that we aren't always victims and we can grow and change and stuff the lot of them (except Piggy of course).

I met James after I had read the book, at a signing in Darlinghurst, and he was a polite and kind guy, and to have a peak into his life, and where he is, the Adonis that he is, is sensational.

Eye-opening and obscene in the best of ways, I look forward to hearing anything else James does.

[Louise · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m going to be honest and say I found this quite difficult to read in parts. It is so graphic, so raw and so complex that it had me struggling to continue at times - why are people so cruel??

Several times I wanted to stop and find out of James was OK.

There is so much trauma, so much pain as Tolcher relives his childhood, his realisation that he is somewhat different to his peers and his struggles as he just wants to be loved.

This story is told so eloquently. One thing is certain, J M Tolcher is an extremely talented writer. I applaud him for his honesty and bravery in telling his story.

I agree with whoever “John M” is in the credits - he is a writer!

I loved the “about the author” blurb at the end! ❤️🌈💪🏻

Thank you so much @tequilatwunk for gifting me a copy of your book. A very moving and powerful read.

[Douglas Johnson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Poof was such a powerful experience reading it the first time, I'm returning to it regularly. As I continue on my own very different path, certain passages in it come to mind. James's resilience, enduring the unkind, unfair and uncertain, is inspiring. I enjoy feeling his spirit thrive. I'll reflect on his experiences while feeling my own desires and disappointments, deep meaningful friendships and entanglements that leave me emotionally scorched. As a visual artist I find his bold, fiery creativity contagious. James Tolcher's voice is so pure, so genuine. He makes me feel less alone as I search and struggle, love and heal. I'm so grateful to have read it.
Poof is exactly the kind of book some factions would want to burn, but if my own home were on fire, one of the first things I'd grab on my way out the door would be my copy.

[Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very few books I find capture me the way James is able. The writing and storytelling is like no other I have read (although so few non-fiction have been read). At no point was I lost, not understanding or unable to empathise or feel the emotions of distrust or anger in response to those purveyed by James.

The early youth experience’s the writer has gone through, is in many ways comparable to the community he is part of, save for his personal growth and journey’s.

James writes all from personal experience which I believe grabs anyone who wishes to read it. It’s undeniable. It will be continually recommended to anyone I come by in my life, regardless if they want recommendations or not.

[Ryan Talsma · Rating 5 out of 5]

A really enjoyable book - it will both entertain you, take you on an emotional journey, and, in the end, make you feel empowered that an inner conflict created by the world resolved.. The author (not a bad sort by the looks of the cover and his own opinion) writes beautifully and the vivid account of his experiences growing up gay makes you feel like you are there with him.......Refreshingly honest, you'll find that being an attractive young gay man with a brain is not as easy as it should be. What stands out most is the lengths he had to go to to garner any kind of respect. Don't worry, part 1 ends well (there has just got to be a sequel).

[Ryan Hamilton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Poof is a stunningly lyrical memoir about growing up queer in Australia and the compounding effects of queer trauma on the search for love and community.

Tolcher touches on his upbringing in suburban (straight) Brisbane, his experience in Brisbane's BDSM scene, the blurred lines between intense kink and abuse, queer drug use, and his search for companionship.

The engrossing narrative is woven in between scenes (written like play scripts) which feature Dionysus in contemporary Brisbane an absolute highlight.

Tolcher's wit and openness makes for a memoir that I couldn't put down. Finished it at 3am the other night. So good.

[Matthew Holley · Rating 3 out of 5]

I very much appreciated Tolcher’s narrative about his difficult early years and how this directly resulted in his struggles with depression and especially anxiety (hence the 3 stars). But once the story moved into his abusive relationships with sadistic and emotionally erratic men it became quite unpleasant, only for him to stop subjecting himself to such abuse and…become one of those sadistic men himself? Maybe there was a brighter and more subtle outcome that I missed, but that’s the big idea I was left with: I finally stopped feeding my self-hatred and instead became the conduit for someone else to access theirs. Yuck.

[Chris Bryant · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Poof" is equal parts hilarious, deeply sad, sexy, uncomfortable, and whip-smart. Tolcher takes us through anecdotes from his youth, given context within the homophobic society he (we) grew up in. Each word he uses is intentional and the story he tells quickly becomes more than "just" a memoir. At the same time, it doesn't evangelise to its audience - letting us into his world with ease. I sped through the book in three days flat, a joy to read. (An uncomfortable joy to which I related more than I wanted to).

[Seb Swann · Rating 4 out of 5]

"I am on the side of truth. Nothing but that benefits me, as it should benefit you all if you are able to conquer cowardice. Truth benefits the greater good and the future existence of humanity. Truth, then, is synonymous with good, and therefore, if you're not on my side, you're bad: a liar without courage."

Read this if you like honest, brutal memoirs. Tolcher shares his traumatic story and truth as a way to recapture his power—his experiences are shocking and devastating, his voice is courageous.

[Sarah Rudolph · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fantastic read. The author delves into a life style and world that is not known by many. However it is clear how this community stands together. Tolcher is able to explore the depths of drug addiction, sex, sexuality and mental health in a way I haven’t seen expressed before by modern authors. Readers should read with their minds open and their heart strong and understanding. Tolcher’s story is not for the faint hearted. But then again…maybe that’s exactly why we should read it. - For Jacob.

[Blake Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

A gripping read. If you grew up gay in the suburbs of Brisbane in the 90s, you will almost certainly empathise with the author's upbringing and experiences. Nigh impossible to put down, and confronting, Tolcher dares not shy away from any topic, and describes them in vivid detail and brutal honesty. Interspersed with waxing poetic about their struggles, and rage of the downtrodden, this is a well-written book I can highly recommend. I am still unpacking its impact.

[Sam · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was such an experience to read, that I was drawn in from the poetic, opening, the pantheon of Ancient Greek references and the beautiful prose that held it’s course the entire way through. As gripping and beautiful, and empowering as it is intense and sad: Poof was one of those rare Australian books of such honesty that I could see myself in the pages and felt like I was walking through them along with the Author.

[Brendan Waite]

Gripping, disturbing, engrossing… triggering.

I read this in a day, and while I can’t say that I enjoyed it, too much of it (well, in the first half anyway) cuts too close to home, then veers wildly away from where any of my experiences lie… given my shitty mental health, and my history of having breakdowns at this time of year I probably shouldn’t have read it right now.

This is either a five star read or a one star read, and I’ve changed my mind on which many times already