Queens of the Crypt

I first heard about Queens of the Crypt at the Bonnier showcase in June and it took everything in me not to run up and try to crawl directly inside Dom&Ink's brain because... excuse me?! A YA graphic novel? Queer horror? Non-binary rep? Classic monsters dragged through a gloriously camp, femme lens? Rocky Horror and all those delicious 90s/00s supernatural TV and femme-fatale flavours I've been obsessed with for most of my life?! Anyone who knows me knows that I was never going to be ‘normal’ about this. Fast forward to August and, unfortunately, at this point I was in my little pity party for one and dealing with some heavy medical/life issues that had severely isolated me. As a result, I felt completely lost, disconnected and pretty much bereft of my usual spark. The over-the-top, all-gestures-and-facial-expressions version of me who gets ridiculously excited about spooky books and will happily talk your ear off about children's literature had gone pretty much into a grave of her own making. Then an invitation arrived to celebrate Queens of the Crypt. With Dom&Ink. On a Ghost Bus. Galavanting around London. Come on! I mean, if anything was going to lure me out of the afterlife, it was fitting that it was this event. I did obviously have a wobble beforehand. The usual imposter-syndrome goblins gnawing at my esteem, the added weight of not being involved in the bookish community for months, and then the fact that I thought it would be a good idea to dress like a goth dominatrix from the 80s which of course, I inevitably then ripped my tights en route, leading to an awful Trump-tan tights debacle. Don't judge me- it was the only pair available! As with many of these special influencer events, the other guests were younger influencers with these brilliant, enormous communities, and sometimes at events like this I feel a touch like some wise old hag who has accidentally wandered into the wrong coven. As with every bookish event though, why did I worry? Everyone was bloody lovely. Of course they were; ‘We are the weirdos, Mister’ energy was in abundance. Between the shrieks, screams and general chaos there were conversations with people I'd never met before, lots of laughter and that lovely feeling when you realise the room you've been nervous about taking up space in is also welcoming and just as weird! Although, technically, our room was a bus. And let me tell you about this BUS... The Ghost Bus is already a riot of spooky London nonsense (definitely go if you haven't) but using it to launch Queens of the Crypt? Hot Key, you're killing meeeeeeee. We rattled around London with our gloriously ghoulish host while Queens of the Crypt seeped into every little part of the evening.There were bingo cards, personalised goodie bags, maps and maybe the best bit of bookish merch: a magnificent diva fan which, on an oppressively humid August evening in central London, may genuinely have saved lives. It definitely did mine! The whole thing felt properly thought through rather than just slapping a book logo on a dry, bland book biscuit and calling it ‘themed’. Everywhere you looked there was another tiny detail waiting to be noticed and for a few hours, we were invited inside the world of the book and as far away from reality as you can get in London! Which is probably why the whole thing got me a bit emotional. I know, I know… me, emotional? Shocked! There is something about Dom&Ink's work that makes me want to champion them and the book fiercely. I love people who lean wholeheartedly into what makes them them, and Queens is stuffed with the things I've always gravitated towards: queer characters, glamorous monsters, femme fatales, horror icons, camp, silliness and people figuring themselves out without having to sand down all their interesting edges first. I'd spent the previous couple of months feeling as though my own edges had completely disappeared. I'm not going to pretend a haunted bus full of spooky bingo and screaming was some grand transformative experience. Burnout & my conditions did not magically flee my body at the sight of a personalised purple goodie bag (although it definitely hit the dopamine release button hard!). But, I had a really, really, REALLY fangtastically outrageous night! I dressed up and felt ridiculous and fabulous. I met new, cool people. I laughed. I screamed. I got excited about a book again. I felt spooky and interested in something and for a few hours, I recognised myself again. That matters. So much to me. Looking back through my original notes, I'd written about how overjoyed I am that we get to live in a world where people can express themselves authentically and see themselves reflected in art. I think that's ultimately what I’m waffling on trying to get at, because sometimes somebody else's art reminds you that taking up space, expressing yourself and allowing yourself to shine can be its own tiny act of rebellious self-care. So thank you, Dom&Ink, for creating these magnificent monsters and for being such a bloody bright star in an increasingly dark sky. Thank you, Hiromi and all the Bonnier baddies, for dreaming up an evening that was every bit as weird and wonderful as the book deserved. This wise old hag just needed reminding that she was still ‘Queen of her own Crypt’ and it's time to start acting like it again. Divaaaaaaaa!