A top shelf review of all three of Kami’s novels published by Paroxysm Press including his latest, FISTS OF LOVE…
from: Another Fifty Two Books – Dann Lennard
Bunk Beds & Chilli Vodka by Kami (Paroxysm Press, 2002)
S.F.&T. by Kami (Paroxysm Press, 2001)
Fists of Love by Kami (Paroxysm Press, 2024)
It took him 22 years, but Adelaide writer/poet/zinester/friend Campbell “Kami” McInnes finally got around to writing another book. In anticipation of its arrival in the post, I reread his first two releases. Bunk Beds & Chilli Vodka is a (slightly) fictionalized account of the Paroxysm Press crew’s memorable weekend attending the 2001 National Young Writers Festival in Newcastle. Neither young nor sober, the trio caused chaos wherever they went, which makes for a very entertaining read. Helen and I were also at NYWF that weekend – in fact, we make cameo appearances in the book. Reading this Hunter S. Thompson-esque laff-fest brought back lots of fond memories.
Next up was S.F.&T. (aka Sucked, Fucked and Tattooed), a gritty look at a particular subculture that inhabited the inner-city pub scene in Adelaide back in the 1980s and 90s. I had forgotten much of it, but rereading this take-no prisoners novella, I could identify a few of the characters and venues. There is a semi autobiographical feel to the sordid life of drunken record store owner and fuck-up Jason. S.F.&T. rattles along at a fair clip. Oddly, the book sets itself up for a happy ending (of sorts), then suddenly hits the reader with a gut punch in the last two paragraphs that had me thinking, “Fuck! What just happened?”
So I moved onto Fists of Love, a sequel to S.F.&T., which sees Jason driving his slightly psycho ex Cindy back to Queensland so she can be with her family. Cindy is dying from cancer and Jason is the only person she can trust to get her home safely. Adventures happen along the way, most notably Jason unexpectedly bumping into his deadbeat dad. Like the first book, the sequel managed to hold my attention throughout. And then came the ending. As I wrote to Kami soon afterwards, “I woke up at 2am and couldn’t sleep for an hour thinking about your book. Fuck you. You got me with that last paragraph before the epilogue, you bastard. Excuse me while I wipe this grit from eyes.”
Kami remains one of the great underground writers in this country and it is really worth your time picking up all three books at ParoxysmPress.com.
Cover art Red Wallflower.
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