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/

Getting Cozy

“Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man’s desire to understand.” – Neil Armstrong

* * *

What is a cozy mystery? And how has this popular sub-genre evolved over time? Since fellow TKZ contributor Dale Ivan Smith and I both write cozies, we thought it would be fun to co-write a post on the subject.

WHAT MAKES A MYSTERY “COZY?”

These are the basic “rules” as I understand them:

  1. No explicit violence.
  2. No explicit sexual content.
  3. Usually, no profanity. But if there is any, it’s mild.

Although there are many variations, a cozy mystery often involves a murder that has taken place “off stage” before the story begins. The mystery is usually presented as a puzzle where the reader tries to figure out the solution along with the protagonist.

This quote from an article on novelsuspects.com sums it up nicely:

“Overall, cozy mysteries are the perfect mix of smart, thoughtful stories that challenge you to think as you read while also being a relaxing escape from everyday life.“

HISTORY

Mysteries have been around for a long time. The first mystery novel is usually identified as The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, published in 1859. But Agatha Christie changed the landscape in 20th century.

According to an article on the website of the Mansfield/Richland County Public Library in Mansfield, Ohio:

“Agatha Christie is usually credited with being the (unintentional) mother of the cozy mystery genre with her Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple series. The term “cozy” was first coined in the late 20th century when various writers produced work in an attempt to re-create the Golden Age of Detective Fiction.”

* * *

Since its inception, the cozy mystery genre has evolved, and a few new trends have grown up around it. For example, many of today’s cozies have paranormal elements you wouldn’t have found in the mid-20th century. It also isn’t unusual for stories to center around food or pets.

Book covers have also morphed to reflect a more playful approach, and many titles have become something of a pun contest. To the best of my knowledge, the images shown below were the first edition covers. Consider how things have changed from the 20th century …

… to the 21st century:

* * *

Over to Dale to give us background on the cozy narrative:

We’re so often advised to begin with action. However, cozies tend to call for the grounding of the reader in the character’s background and setting right at the start, to help give that cozy feel and connect the reader with our heroine. The heroine is often introduced in a summary of who-the-character is fashion, rather than an in-media-res opening that other mysteries might.

Often we also learn how she arrived at this point in her life—perhaps she just went through a divorce, or lost a job, and moved to the small community, possibly inheriting a business and meeting a character who will be significant in their life. If they are already established, like in Jenn McKinlay’s Books Can Be Deceiving, the first of her Library Lovers series which opens with the Thursday “Crafternoon” group meeting at the library.

The murder can occur in the opening, but often occurs later, and serves as the gateway to Act II. While the opening of a cozy often establishes the world before the murder, the discovery of a body puts the sleuth on a quest to restore order to her little world. The heroine will follow an “arc of suspicion” where she uncovers secrets that may lead to the actual crime, or may be a red herring, and she will be looking for the motive.

The police are on the wrong trail when it comes to finding the murderer, so it is up to the amateur sleuth to find the true culprit. Often a friend, relative or other innocent is arrested. A police arrest of an innocent may occur at the midpoint, and/or the person the sleuth believed was the murderer themselves is killed, or something else that sends our heroine’s investigation on a new course.

She sifts through competing ideas (theories) about what was behind the murder, until she finds a crucial clue or insight which leads her to the revelation and confrontation with the killer. Just before this climax of the book, circumstances and/or choices she makes isolate her from her friends and allies.

As the investigation continues, it is counterbalanced with a cozy subplot, such a baking competition, parade, event at the library etc. which the main character is involved with, until the isolating nature of the investigation pushes her away from that cozy storyline.

There is often also a slow-burn romance. In H.Y. Hanna’s English Cottage Garden series Poppy has a slow-burn mutual attraction, alternating with frustration, for her neighbor, a crime writer, who also helps her at times in solving the mystery. Each book features a moment where the two draw together in attraction other, but another moment or moments were they are pushed apart by a disagreement or other conflict.

Humor in a cozy mystery serves to lighten the mood and up the fun quotient of the story, often surprising the reader right after a plot turn or a revelation, though things get serious as we head into Act III and the confrontation with the murderer. But often comedy returns at the end, when we have a scene or even a short sequence of scenes validating the restoration of order to the community.

So, TKZers: Do you read cozy mysteries? Tell us about your favorite books and authors.

 

 

Key Ways to Lure Readers with an Opening – First Page Critique: Follow the Raptor

Jordan Dane

@JordanDane

Wikimedia Commons

My last TKZ first page critique for 2019. I want to thank all the brave authors who have submitted their novel introductions to share with our TKZ community. Although it’s never easy to hear criticism, no matter who you are, we grow as authors by taking risks. Kudos to all the courageous writers we have at TKZ–those who submit their work and those who offer constructive criticism. Thank you all.

***

From the airport, I drove north in a rental car toward Ketchum, and turned onto a small paved road that ended at an estate owned by a man who had offered to pay me handsomely for an assignment he wouldn’t describe over the phone. I announced myself to the intercom and the gates swung onto a flat curve of driveway. A big-guy checker piece in black answered the doorbell. He mumbled into an earpiece and jotted in a small notebook, a juxtaposition of the new and old. I noticed this because Tireia would notice, and lovers learn such habits from one another.

The big guy identified himself as Jonathan. He led me down a wide hall peopled by brass effigies and through double doors into the presence of a massive sandstone fireplace that loomed over curved and plush seating. The room was filled with paintings and statuary, rainforest plants, and stacks of oversized books on tables that looked as if they were laser-hewn from petrified wood. The drapes were open on floor-to-ceiling windows, displaying a lawn that flowed to sage-strewn foothills on this high-desert side of the road to Sun Valley.

Jonathan left and I wandered over to a Gainsborough-like portrait of a woman in a pleated gown that covered her feet. It was better than the other one on the same wall, of a high-breasted brunette in a print blouse, who sat in a thin chair and stared out of the 1940s at the viewer. She was familiar, and not being able to place her irritated me. The signature in the corner read, “Katherine March.”

Soft footsteps signaled the appearance of my trim and compact host. He sported a velvet smoking jacket and suede slippers, which made me grin.

“I’m Cassim Geyer,” he said.

“Reese Sapere.”

We shook hands.

“I assume you’ll be flying your plane home, Mr. Sapere, so I won’t offer liquor. Will tea do?”

“Tea? Yeah, OK.”

He went to the fireplace and pulled a bell cord, which delighted me only slightly less than the lovely young woman who soon appeared, in a short black skirt over a white blouse. Cassim requested the tea and sat down across from me. He flicked a bit of nothing from his slacks, looked up, and caught me regarding him.

“Tradition has its upside,” he said, “if you take it with a dollop of nonconformity.”

***

FEEDBACK

SETTING FOCUS IN INTRODUCTION – This introduction sticks with the action of what is happening. No real backstory. That’s a plus, but when the tedious description of the setting overtakes the narrative, the pace slows down to a crawl. The author hasn’t given me enough reason to care about the setting. I really don’t know where Ketchum is – in Oklahoma or Idaho? If the character had more of a colorful opinion, I might see the reason for the description-to showcase and give insight into the character.

A reader isn’t as much after the details of a setting, but more about atmosphere and mood.

Here is an example of a more effective intro that paints a picture of setting, but it also reflects on the character and a darker mystery.

EXCERPT

In Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, Offred introduces her room with details that not only grab us but hint at something dark:

A chair, a table, a lamp. Above, on the white ceiling, a relief ornament in the shape of a wreath and in the centre of it a blank space, plastered over, like the place in a face where the eye has been taken out. There must have been a chandelier once. They’ve removed anything you could tie a rope to.

If the action in this submission were better matched with the setting details, the main character might be more integral to the setting with hints of emotion or something more at stake. As it reads now, the setting descriptions are just an inventory of room furnishings. Below is a good example of how the author uses plain setting descriptions to stir feelings of foreboding in the reader and give insight into the female lead.

EXCERPT

Lynda La Plante’s Above Suspicion turns a simple setting into something ominous when the character realizes someone has violated her home and been inside. Can’t we all relate to being shaken at the possibility of a home invasion? This short description, that incorporates the details of a setting, gives insight into the woman living alone and the emotion she must be feeling.

Reaching for the bedside lamp, she stopped and withdrew her hand. The photograph of her father had been turned out to face the room. She touched it every night before she went to sleep. It was always facing towards her, towards the bed, not away from it. … In the darkness, what had felt safe before now felt frightening: the way the dressing-table mirror reflected the street-light through the curtains and the sight of the wardrobe door left slightly ajar.

 

MYSTERY – There are elements of mystery to this intro. Below are four I noticed, but not all of them are presented well.

Good Mystery Elements

1.) The character is paid handsomely for an undisclosed assignment. Why? This is a good mystery to drop at the start. Make the reader wonder what this guy does for a living. Good guy or bad.

2.) Who is Katherine March and why is she familiar to him? This is a good mystery. It’s intriguing and it has the potential for foreshadowing something to come. I like it.

Not so Good…

3.) What gender is the central character (male of female)? I have to wait until nearly the end of the dialogue where he’s called Mr. Sapere. Even the first name of Reese can be female. It’s not good to keep a reader guessing about gender, but this can be an easy fix if the author would introduce gender earlier.

4.) Who is Tireia? From the line – “I noticed this because Tireia would notice, and lovers learn such habits from one another.” There’s no attempt at an explanation, but why bring it up? This reads like a series with characters the reader should know. This kind of mystery will have the reader scratching their head and wondering why. I would find another way to bring this up later, but it’s not necessary in this intro. It’s only confusing.

LOCATION – I mentioned this earlier, but the reference to Ketchum could be in Idaho or Oklahoma or anywhere. A simple tag line would clear this up. Or the author could make a choice to make the setting clear from the start and make it memorable in short order, as in the excerpt below.

EXCERPT

Gabriel García Márquez, opening One Hundred Years of Solitude, introduces his village like this:

Macondo was a village of twenty adobe houses, built on the bank of a river of clear water that ran along a bed of polished stones, which were white and enormous, like prehistoric eggs.

FIRST SENTENCE LENGTH – The first sentence is too long with too many unrelated details, that they get lost in the length. My instincts would be to make the character more colorful with a more memorable voice. Give him an opinion of his surroundings that reflect on him, as a protagonist. Make him more wary of who this new client is and why is the man so secretive about the assignment. The first sentence (below) is tedious, forgettable, and the last part of the mystery assignment almost gets lost at the tail end.

From the airport, I drove north in a rental car toward Ketchum, and turned onto a small paved road that ended at an estate owned by a man who had offered to pay me handsomely for an assignment he wouldn’t describe over the phone.

Also, in this submission, we learn at the very end of the 400 words (in the dialogue) that the protagonist is a pilot and must have rented a car from the airport. It’s seems odd that we have to wait until the end dialogue to discover that Sapere is a pilot. It’s a bit confusing that the new client knows more about Sapere than the reader does, after being in Sapere’s head.

MAKE DIALOGUE COUNT – For the first lines of dialogue, they are very anti-climactic and chit-chatty.

WHERE IS THE ANTICIPATION? – I would’ve liked to see the author have a build up of anticipation where the protagonist is curious about the man who wants to pay him handsomely yet couldn’t talk about the assignment over the phone. This is how you build on the mystery, when the protagonist is drawn in himself and searches for clues.

It’s obvious the man he came to see is someone he doesn’t know. I would think he would screen his jobs better. Wouldn’t he be more wary? Wouldn’t his mind be searching the grounds for hints of the assignment or who this man is?

SUMMARY – This author shows talent. There’s a good crime fiction start here, but this reads like a first draft. With some feedback and filling out of details to create more mystery and a sense of anticipation, this introduction could be more effective.

FOR DISCUSSION:

Please share your constructive criticism with this writer and with your TKZ family. We all have an opportunity to learn.