Crystal Rasmussen - The Diary of a Drag Queen

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First of all, thank you for reading this. If youve got here, then I hope you got your life; if youre reading this in a book shop, then please buy it.

First I must thank Zoe Ross, my agent: this book is in so many ways down to you and how fervent you are in your support and championing of my voice. You are a wonder, and I am so lucky to work with you. The same goes for Kitty Laing, who, when I dont feel it, reminds me that Im a star.

Sara Cywinski, Michelle Warner, and the whole team at Ebury thanks for taking a chance on the little book that could, and on me. I hope it does you proud. It has been such a pleasure.

To the editors who empowered my voice, and told me my words were valid Sarah Raphael, you are so deeply generous; Lynette Nylander, you were the first person who told me, and so many others, we could do it. Thank you.

My parents. Mum, thank you for teaching me how to love unconditionally, to stand up for myself, and for teaching me that the people in life are the most important. Dad, thank you for always telling me that its the effort that counts, and for showing me that sensitivity isnt weakness. You are both the loves of my life. Danielle, James and Harry: for teaching me wit and humour, strength in the face of bullies. I love you all so very much. Grandma, you helped me find glamour and beauty when I couldnt. You are, really, an icon, and although youll never know it, it was you that taught me to be gay. My nieces and nephew dont read this til youre thirteen. Cant wait to give you your first cigarette. Youre all amazing.

To Wally: for giving us a place to make mistakes, to love radically, and to ash on the floor.

My friends, my other family. To Shughie: you have shown me what it means to feel full, and to value myself by valuing me. You are the true queen, I love you. Hatty, you taught me queerness and I am forever in your debt. Cant wait to spend forever with you. Leyah, for your patience and kindness, for your strength and for always rolling me a cigarette. To Emily, for always giving your honest opinion, and for showing me gay culture. To Jacob, for being the best drag twin-baby ever, and for showing us all the radical power of glamour.

Amrou, you are a second mother/sister/daughter to me, and my world is expanded so greatly by your presence in it. I hope I can do the same for you.

Thurstan: thank you for always letting me be myself, for always being so proud of me, for teaching me work ethic, and for loving me when so many people love you. You are one of the worlds real gems.

To Amnah, you always hear me, and tell me my emotions are important.

To Emma, for always telling me my work is valid and for all our early morning breakfasts and late nights falling asleep together.

Talia, thank you for showing me that weird is wonderful.

The Denims: you refashioned my idea of family and I owe you, in so many ways, a lot of my life.

To Allegra, for teaching me how to write way back in my bedroom in Lancaster. Amelia thank you for the brilliant advice, and for being someone to laugh about it all with. To Sadhbh, for always analysing the niche with me.

To my other friends, without whom this book, and this life, wouldnt be possible: Daphne, Rina, Jessie, Eve, Charlie H, Claudia, Decca, Ellie K, Chris, Harry P, David, Tamara, Harriet, Kai, Will, Sarah L, Sarah S, Nick, Lettice, Liam H, Theo, Claire and Temi. To Sarah and Norman for giving me a home to start in, and for being so constantly interesting.

To my bezzaz, you make me laugh like no other, and you pushed me through some of the toughest years of my life. Youre all so, so iconic. I love you all so much.

Celine Dion, for teaching me to be a queen.

To the north for teaching me the value of kindness. To the drag community for teaching me the value of community, of power, of self-love. To the LGBTQIA+ community wider for teaching us all resilience. I am so proud, and so grateful, to be a part of you.

And, finally, thank you to my butthole youve really been through the wringer, and yet youre the strongest thing I know.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the authors and publishers rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Ebury Press, an imprint of Ebury Publishing,
20 Vauxhall Bridge Road,
London SW1V 2SA

Ebury Press is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.

Copyright Tom Rasmussen 2019
Cover Design by: Arneaux

Tom Rasmussen has asserted their right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

First published by Ebury Press in 2019

penguin.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 9781473560499

This is for my families, biological and chosen thanks for loving me.

This is for my community thanks for teaching me.

This is for my thirteen-year-old self thanks for sticking with me.

This book is a work of non-fiction based on the life, experiences and recollections of the author. In some cases names of people, places, dates and sequences of events have been changed solely to protect the privacy of others.

Whats the story of your life?

The story of my life is that I have more embarrassing poo stories than anyone I know. There was the time I shat myself during a kiss with a boy I fancied and he never spoke to me again. There was the time I shat my pants, a huge intact log, while giving a speech at a friends birthday party in front of her dad who was a judge on Dragons Den. Thank God I wasnt asking for funding. Another time, I got so drunk I shat my pants in the cinema in front of all my judgmental high school friends. Once, I was sick on a guys dick after Id had not one, not two, but three croissants for breakfast. Not an actual shit story, but a shitty story nonetheless. There was the time I borrowed an American Apparel leotard from a friend of mine and gave it back, unbeknownst to me, with some pretty violent skid marks decorating the inside. We did speak again, but she made me buy her a new one.