They fall into the Boneditch in the dark, and they can never climb out again.
The fall changes them, irreparably. Fractures them, breaks their bones. When those bones knit themselves back together, the skeleton is different. For some, that’s a fate worth than death, to others it’s simply death.
But for some, while the transformation can be chaotic and unwelcome and strange, it is an opportunity to become something ferocious and impossible and true, cosmic and of the earth. They lick the blood from their teeth and stretch wings they never had.
Is the Boneditch a cemetery, or a trap, or a virus, or a nest?
Is the Boneditch an impossible fiend or the thing that is perfect, that wants to bend the world into a chaotic arena of compulsive invention and fierce inspiration?
There is Glamour in her Cadaver, and a Hope in Hell…
Eliot Rent loses her parents and discovers in the rotting entrails of all their lies a hard, indigestible flint that she might just be able to build a life on.
Kathryn Eliopoulos visits an island in the middle of nowhere and hears a story that inspires her to build a cemetery for herself instead of castles for others.
Three Bastards are visited by a grinning rictus that eats them alive: a brand new friend online, an unexpected job offer and a ticket to the circus.
Jessica the writer, Bonnie the mechanic and Margaret the nurse live in the forest, powerful heroes from times gone by, now half-forgotten witches. Late one evening a desperate stranger comes to their door looking for help, and they are led to a crossroads at midnight.
Ketaki Eleison whiles away the night terrifying her young friends with stories of three Saints: the Saint who never was, the Patron Saint of Common Sense, and the Saint with a watch made of bone.
Nunc Dimittis? Not Likely…
Boneditch is my new novel – a weird anthology of kitsch mysteries and eldritch secrets about someone who’s perfect in every sense. It’s the post-mortem of my exquisite corpse of short stories stitched together into a patchwork monster: some are horror stories, some are fairy tales, some are odd family dramas and some are love stories. All of them have to be weird, though, and have at least five jokes.
This website is a scrapbook – notes and excerpts and ideas about my new novel as I bolt and stitch and grind it together: a collection of short stories that explore the mystery of Boneditch, each individual story is a spicy gobbet that adds to the bloody banquet:
1 – Crash
2 – Bang
3 – Whallop
4 – Rolling The Bones
5 – I’d Have To Get Drunk Every Night And Talk About Virility With Some Old Grandmother Who Might Be Decked Out Like A Christmas Tree
6 – Down The Rabid Hole
7 – Her Fingers, Where You Sleep
8 – Health And Safety Gone Mad
9 – The Mercy Of Flowers
10 – Guilt-Edged Mirror
11 – Living In A Plutocracy
12 – The Circus Siliquastrum
CHAPTER FIVE: A FEAST OF FIENDS AND SAINTS
13 – Haine Reaction
14 – The Curse Of The Warehouse
15 – A Bum In The Coven
CHAPTER SIX: SISTERS UNDER THE SKIN
updated 28 August 2017
My name’s Ian Bird, by the way, and I also a keep a website here – www.mrcarapace.wordpress.com, but that’s for giddier stuff. Here we stay deep in the ditch.