"Todo era campo" is a strange and queer text, and for that reason an interesting one, in which names are erased, skins deceive, and what is always strained and put at risk is existence. And there is a curious melancholic tone that contrasts with the virtual presence of its nonexistent author: on social media she is, yes, "la regadora, la cortadora, la trepadora, la planchadora, la conductora, la bloqueadora, la peladora, la bailaora, la cagadora, la tostadora, o la folladora". But because she does not exist, the whole range of things is open to her, like someone who is not and therefore transforms, like the Saokian Rosalía who is "toas las cosas", and in that fixed non-being nothing blooms, adapts as it asks what it would be like to "put a body in a box" and for that sealed body to be, for example, "the body of a mother". [...] And it gives us a fascinating exercise, one that has everything to do with the curious intersection between drag and any character, between drag and the folkloric diva, between drag and every artist. Deep down, it is not so much a book about drag as a text about what happens when we become a person who is no longer us. From the prologue by Elizabeth Duval