The Science of Skeletons: What Bones Can (and Can’t) Tell Us

The Science of Skeletons: What Bones Can (and Can’t) Tell Us

By Jennifer Graeser Dornbush


In the spirit of all things spooky, creepy and Halloweenie, let’s talk skeletons and what they tell our hero investigators about their murder victims.

Growing up in a coroner’s world, I learned that skeletal remains hold a kind of truth that outlasts everything else—identity, memory, even flesh. Bones remember. They record. They carry the quiet history of a life lived, right up to the moment it ended.

Bones don’t lie.

Let’s look at what bones can reveal with scientific accuracy… and where we writers can push beyond the boundaries while keeping our stories authentic and entertaining.

What Bones Can Tell Us

1. Age (Within a Reasonable Range)

Anthropologists can often estimate a person’s age at death by examining:

  • epiphyseal fusion (how long bones join at their growth plates)
  • cranial suture closure
  • dental wear and eruption patterns
  • bone density changes

Children and teens can be aged fairly precisely because their bones change rapidly on predictable timelines. Adults are trickier—the range becomes broader as we age, often spanning 5–10 years or more. Elderly adults are often placed into very broad brackets (“60+”) because degenerative changes vary widely depending on lifestyle, health, and nutrition.

One detail writers often miss: age estimates become less reliable when the skeleton is incomplete. A single long bone might give a ballpark range, but a full skeleton allows a multi-point evaluation and more confidence.

📌 Writers: Avoid giving an exact age like “34.” Anthropologists don’t speak that precisely unless the case includes supporting evidence.

2. Biological Sex (When Enough Bone Is Present)

The pelvis is the gold standard. Its shape, subpubic angle, and sciatic notch hold clear clues. The skull also offers markers—brow ridges, mastoid processes, jaw angle—but these are secondary indicators and less reliable on their own.

Accuracy increases when multiple indicators align, and confidence decreases sharply with incomplete or fragmentary remains. Hormone therapy, childhood malnutrition, and congenital differences can all blur the expected patterns, meaning even textbook traits aren’t always foolproof.

📌 Writers: If the pelvis is missing, anthropologists often phrase findings with caution: “biologically consistent with male,” not “definitely male.”

3. Ancestry (But Never With Certainty)

Contrary to what some crime series suggest, forensic anthropologists cannot state a person’s “race.” Instead, they may identify skeletal traits that statistically correlate with certain ancestral backgrounds—facial bone structure, nasal aperture shape, dental features like shovel-shaped incisors, or cranial index trends.

These are probabilities, not identities. Many people do not present textbook traits, especially in a multicultural society where ancestry is complex and blended.

📌 Writers: Emphasize probability, not absolute identity. Anthropologists work in “likelihoods,” not certainties.

4. Stature (Height Range)

Using formulas based on long bones—usually the femur, tibia, or humerus—scientists can estimate height with an accuracy range of a few inches. These formulas vary slightly by ancestry and biological sex, which adds even more nuance to the reconstruction.

📌 Writers: Don’t give a precise height like “5’10.” Use ranges: “between 5’8 and 5’11.”

5. Evidence of Trauma

This is one area where bones shine. Anthropologists can distinguish between:

Perimortem Trauma

Injury around the time of death—fractures with smooth, sharp edges and bending consistent with fresh bone.

Antemortem Trauma

Older injuries—healed fractures, remodeled bone, surgical implants.

Postmortem Damage

Breaks occurring after death—more jagged, brittle, and without biological response.

Anthropologists can also identify trauma patterns that reflect interpersonal violence—defensive wounds, repeated strikes, blunt vs. sharp-force trauma, and sometimes even directionality of force.

📌 Writers: Fresh breaks and old breaks look completely different under microscope and to the trained eye.

6. Lifestyle Clues

Long-term habits leave marks—literally.

Anthropologists can identify:

  • repetitive stress injuries
  • arthritis patterns
  • certain occupations (e.g., heavy lifting)
  • dental wear from specific diets
  • nutritional deficiencies (porotic hyperostosis, enamel hypoplasia)
  • healed fractures consistent with childhood accidents, sports, or violence

A life lived physically demanding work—like farming, manual labor, or elite athletics—often leaves distinctive signatures on the skeleton. Even habits like pipe smoking or chronic childhood illness can show up in subtle but telling patterns.

These clues paint a picture not just of how someone died, but how they lived—their health, labor, struggles, and resilience.

What Bones Cannot Tell Us

This is where fiction loves to stretch for the sake of entertainment. Be careful treading on this territory.

1. Personality or Emotions

Bones cannot tell you:

  • the victim was athletic (unless supported by robust muscle attachments)
  • the victim was cheerful
  • the victim was “a fighter”
  • the victim struggled with depression

Skeletal remains record biology, not biography. They hold structural truth, not emotional truth. A healed fracture may show resilience and health indicators, but it cannot reveal whether a person was kind, cruel, introverted, or lonely. These details belong to the psychological and social worlds—journals, digital footprints, witness interviews, personal effects—not the bones themselves.

📌 Writers: Keep internal traits internal. Bones don’t reveal emotional states.

2. Some Causes of Death

Unless the trauma affects bone—gunshot wound to skull, sharp-force trauma to ribs, strangulation fracturing the hyoid—many causes of death leave no skeletal trace at all.

  • Poisoning
  • Smothering
  • Drowning
  • Cardiac arrest
  • Hypothermia

Bones are silent on these. Even in cases with perimortem trauma, anthropologists still rely heavily on contextual evidence from the medical examiner, investigators, and crime scene analysis.

📌 Writers: Anthropologists often use the phrase “cause of death undetermined” without shame or drama—it’s a scientific reality.

3. Exact Time Since Death

Skeletal remains are notoriously difficult to date. Environmental factors—soil chemistry, temperature, humidity, insect activity, scavenging—can accelerate or slow decomposition unpredictably.

Anthropologists can give broad windows (“several months to a few years”), but bones cannot pinpoint the hour, day, or even reliably the season. Even “fresh” vs. “older” remains can blur when the environment is extreme.

📌 Writers: Avoid pinpoint decomposition timelines from skeletons alone.

4. Detailed Eyewitness Descriptions

Bones cannot reveal:

  • hair color
  • eye color
  • scars on skin
  • tattoos
  • freckles
  • gait (except in severe deformity cases)

Despite what television suggests, forensic anthropologists cannot conjure a photographic likeness from a skull. At best, they create approximations, using tissue-depth markers and artistic interpretation based on averages—not specific individual traits.

📌 Writers: Facial reconstructions are artistic approximations, not forensic certainties.

Where Fiction Cam Overreach

Let’s talk about those moments that make forensic anthropologists groan:

❌ “The bones show she was murdered right here at 8 p.m.”

Not possible.

❌ “We know she was a runner because her femurs are strong.”

Strong bones ≠ running.
Muscle attachments reveal repetitive stress—but not specific sports.

❌ “We matched the skeleton to a missing person by cheekbone shape alone.”

Impossible without DNA, dental records, or unique surgical implants.

❌ “The bones say the victim was happy.”

Bones do not record mood.

❌ “This fracture proves the killer was left-handed.”

Force direction is complex and rarely that conclusive.

How Writers Can Use Skeleton Science

The secret to realistic forensic fiction is simple:

Follow the limits — and let the uncertainty create tension.

Some of the most gripping scenes come from what the remains cannot tell investigators.

Writers often think more certainty equals more drama. But the opposite is true.
In real crime labs, ambiguity drives conflict, teamwork, and urgency. It leaves space for your detectives, MEs, and anthropologists to disagree—and disagreement drives story.

Here are ways to use skeletal limits to your advantage:

✔️ Use broad ranges (age, height, ancestry) to keep the investigation open.

✔️ Let characters debate the meaning of trauma patterns.

✔️ Allow missing pieces of bone to stall the case.

✔️ Introduce scientific caution as a personality trait for your forensic experts.

✔️ Let DNA or dental records be the turning point—not the bones alone.

These choices ground your story in truth while deepening the suspense.

The Humanity in the Bones

When I look at skeletal remains—even fictional ones—I see more than evidence.
I see the outline of a life.

Bones record:

  • injuries survived
  • hardships endured
  • nourishment given or withheld
  • age, growth, and decline

They hold our histories quietly, without embellishment or judgment.

And that, to me, is where the deepest storytelling power lies.

As writers, we’re not just reconstructing death; we’re reconstructing humanity.

Bones tell a story.
Not the whole story.
Not every detail.
But enough to begin.

As a storyteller, investigator, or crime-fiction lover— we can find a balance that honors the truth, lets the science shine and entertains.

Happy Spooky Season! Stay curious!

Jennifer

Jennifer Dornbush is an author, screenwriter, and forensic specialist who brings crime stories to life with authenticity and heart. WALKING ON WHITE, the latest novel in The Coroner’s Daughter mystery series drops October 20. With a background rooted in real-world forensics and a passion for crafting unforgettable mysteries, Jennifer offers readers and viewers a front-row seat to the intersection of science, justice, and human nature. Jennifer’s crime expertise has made her a sought-after speaker, consultant, and educator. Through her webinars and master course, WRITING THE KILLER CRIME SERIES, Jennifer guides writers in melding suspenseful storytelling with forensic realism to the screen and page.

Join her community at http://www.jenniferdornbush.com/

First Page Critique – Inside Moves

Jordan Dane
@JordanDane

Wikimedia Commons Image

Wikimedia Commons Image

Today we have an anonymous submission from a gutsy author, titled Inside Moves. Read and enjoy. I’ll be on the flip side with my feedback. Join in the discussion with constructive criticism for the author.

Chapter One

The ambulance screeched around the corner—its light bar flashing and siren screaming—toward Santa Barbara General Hospital’s emergency-room entrance.

An older couple sitting on the bus-shelter bench at the corner was startled by the sounds of the vehicle, along with the knowledge of what that meant.

The man looked to be in his midseventies. He took the woman’s hand in his; she had been startled more severely than he was. “Sweetheart, since we’ve lived in Santa Barbara nearly all our lives, I’d say there’s a very good chance we might know whoever’s in that ambulance.”

But they didn’t.

Desperate to keep the man alive, EMT David Ortega kept his eye on the heart-rate monitor for any changes to Bobby Wainwright’s vital signs.

“We’re losing him!” he yelled to his partner, Tom, who pushed the accelerator of the ambulance.

David felt the ambulance lunge forward. Tom liked to drive fast when the siren and flashers cleared his path. Regaining his balance, David prepared to do CPR while speaking to Dr. Richard Kiersten through his headset. The doctor was standing by in the OR, awaiting their arrival at SBGH.

“Give him Narcan IC,” he instructed David.

David hated giving intracardiac injections because they could produce complications. Besides that, just the idea of stabbing someone in the heart with a long needle was ugly. But he did it anyway. With nothing to do but watch the monitor and the patient, David read the notes Tom had taken at the accident site.

Bobby Wainwright. Just a few years older than me. Huh? Owner of Wainwright Erectors. Not from around here. Bet he makes a ton more than me. Accident on the job…Man, something really big fell on this dude. Goose bumps jumped out on his arms. No matter how much he makes, I sure don’t want to be him right now.

At the emergency entrance, David and Tom prepared Bobby for the operating room and Dr. Kiersten. As David jumped out of the ambulance, he saw an elderly couple at a bus shelter watching him. The old lady looked scared to death. Dear God, don’t let her suffer a heart attack before I get this guy into the OR.

The first responders had brought Bobby to the hospital closest to the construction site where he had been injured. Right now, it didn’t appear that this hospital was close enough.

FEEDBACK

There is nothing like a speedy ambulance ride to start an exciting action scene and get the blood pumping for a reader. This author’s instincts to begin the story there has merit, but the omniscient point of view (or author intrusion/head hopping) had me distracted.

A.) POINT OF VIEW – From the first line, I’m wondering who is watching this ambulance as it screeches around a corner. The older couple waiting for a bus seem almost caught off guard and startled by its sudden appearance. From their reaction, more author intrusion follows when an unknown narrator estimates the older man’s age. After his dialogue line, this unknown narrator answers his remark of “…we might know whoever’s in that ambulance” with the line – But they didn’t. The action and pace of this intro is diminished by the insertion of this couple too. They add nothing to the scene.

From the point where the older couple are left behind, the author tried to stay in the POV of David but veered out big time when David, the EMT riding in the ambulance, can somehow “see” the doctor he’s listening to on his headset with this next line – The doctor was standing by in the OR, awaiting their arrival at SBGH. I suspect that rather than this author deliberately using Omniscient Point of View, there is more “head hopping” going on here.

Recommended reading on POV – Here is an excellent prior post from TKZ’s Joe Moore on Narrative Voice that explains more about Point of View and the author’s voice.

B.) WHERE TO START – I would recommend this intro start with David the EMT and stay within his head, whether he’s a main character or not, at least until we get through the action and settle into the story. Begin with the line, “We’re losing him!” he yelled to his partner, Tom, who pushed the accelerator of the ambulance. Get the reader to feel the jostling ride as David is on his headset talking to a doctor at the hospital, as his patient is dying.

C.) RESEARCH – There is no short cut for research. If the scene calls for medical knowledge, any reader knows some jargon and can discern what is believable. Leaving out the details only highlights that the author has not done the research.

1.) Get the medical right – I would advise giving more medical detail on what David sees. Are there broken bones, collapsed lung, patient in shock, etc? David is an EMT and would know more than is shown. His objective should be to stabilize the victim enough for the ride to the hospital. There appears to be an accident but a medical person would look at the injuries and not be focusing on the accident so vaguely. This is obviously an attempt to introduce backstory in a “telling” fashion. If these details are necessary, it would be best to include them in dialogue, maybe as the EMT speaks to the doctor. But focus on the resulting injuries. I’m no medical person, but I can’t imagine that CPR is how an EMT would describe resuscitation. They have drug remedies (medical therapy), airway management, or equipment to use, like defibrillators.

2.) Mystery elements draw readers in – I’d suggest revealing the patient’s condition through dialogue, with David being the POV character. (One POV per scene is highly recommended, otherwise it reads like head hopping and would be a red flag to editors and agents.) Is there conflict between the EMT and the doctor? Is David resentful of the man? Does David see ambiguity between the patient’s condition and “the accident” explanation? Readers can be drawn into a story by elements of mystery. Have patience with laying these out. Raising the mystery is enough and it will foreshadow things to come.

3.) Drama builds on the risky stakes and tension – Where is the drama when the heart stopped and flat lined? Too much is missing and it is apparent that the author has avoided the details needed for this scene to be believable.

4.) Suggestion – I would do the research and include some details in David’s dialogue to make this work, but if the author didn’t have a desire to do this, I would suggest having the POV be in the head of someone who is brought on the ambulance who is an unreliable narrator and doesn’t have a medical background. This could be a loved one or a co-worker, but if David is a main character, I wouldn’t make the first scene about a secondary character that won’t be important to the story.

D.) RESEARCH RESOURCES – Below are a couple of good resources sites for medical and crime scene research.

1.) Medical – Whenever I think of medical research, one name pops into my head and I have his books in my research library. Doug P. Lyle, author. He has written many non-fiction books on forensics and medical research for writers and he’s gracious with his replies on his website. Look for his books and contact info HERE.

2.) Crime Scenes – Another good resource link is Crime Scene Writer on Yahoo Groups. It is a group of professional crime scene people of various experiences – ie crime scene techs, law enforcement, FBI, EMTs, firemen, etc. HERE is the site for the group and this is the email to contact them and request to be subscribed as a member. Send an email to: crimescenewriter-subscribe@yahoogroups.com (Be sure to read their rules of etiquette for members.)

 

E.) WAINWRIGHT NOTES – With imminent resuscitation or a medical crisis happening, how would David have time to read any notes on the patient? Supposedly the patient is dying, yet David is reading over notes and casually thinking about the patient’s age, job, money status, as it relates to him, etc. Very unprofessional and inappropriate timing. given the action and urgency of the scene. (Side Note – EMTs have ice water running through their veins. They have ways of dealing with extreme injuries and distancing themselves to allow them to do their jobs.)

Bobby Wainwright. Just a few years older than me. Huh? Owner of Wainwright Erectors. Not from around here. Bet he makes a ton more than me. Accident on the job…Man, something really big fell on this dude. Goose bumps jumped out on his arms. No matter how much he makes, I sure don’t want to be him right now.

F.) FORCED UNREALISTIC DETAILS – Below is a sentence that ripped me from the reading. With the scene starting at the bus stop and the elderly couple, the end of the scene with a racing ambulance somehow comes back full circle, as if they spun their wheels in place? I don’t see the point in this, but more importantly, an EMT would be focused on his patient and not looking around and down the street to get a bead on a couple at a bus stop. The urgency of the medical situation is completely deflated. Here is the sentence:

As David jumped out of the ambulance, he saw an elderly couple at a bus shelter watching him. The old lady looked scared to death. Dear God, don’t let her suffer a heart attack before I get this guy into the OR.

The next and last line has the same feel to it – that the ambulance had spun its wheels in place. It drags the reader into backstory that is out of place to the present action. Plus the POV isn’t David anymore and the reader gets another dose of author intrusion. Here is the sentence:

The first responders had brought Bobby to the hospital closest to the construction site where he had been injured. Right now, it didn’t appear that this hospital was close enough.

OVERVIEW – The fixes on POV and proper medical research can be done. That’s the good news. There are no shortcuts for solid research when the scene is a medical one. The author could find a non-medical character to insert one POV for the scene, but a better scenario would be to make the scene believable with the proper research. If the focus is on the emotion of an EMT about to lose a patient, the medical could be woven into the scene without going overboard. (Note: Less is more – a regurgitation of all your research can be tedious and boring to a reader. Moderation is key.) But get the lingo right and the sequence of events in proper order so the scene is believable. Show how the stakes are high and focus on the humanity of the EMT in a life or death situation and this author will have the reader turning the pages.

DISCUSSION:

Anything to add, TKZers? What had the author done right? What would you recommend for improvements?