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Every song was the same song. These were songs for people who were scared to open their mailboxes, whose phone calls never brought good news. These were songs for people standing at the crossroads waiting for the bus. People who bounced
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“I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. It was all so ridiculous. Gran Mae thought she could get me about my weight? I’d come out of academia. If she wanted to tear me apart, she should have commented on my doctoral thesis.”
― A House with Good Bones
― A House with Good Bones
“The problem with family is that they know where all the levers are that make you move. They’re usually the ones who installed the levers in the first place.”
― A House With Good Bones
― A House With Good Bones
“I could hop into an ER carrying my severed leg and squirting blood from the stump and the doctor would congratulate me on having dropped all that leg weight and tell me to keep up the good work.”
― A House with Good Bones
― A House with Good Bones
“Waffle House at four in the morning is a liminal space occupied by long-haul truckers, bleary-eyed shift workers, and teenagers so high they can smell God’s breath.”
― A House With Good Bones
― A House With Good Bones
“Dawn had passed and it was most of the way to morning when the baby emerged into the world, looked around, and burst into tears.
“You get used to it,” the Sister told the infant, and handed the child to Marra, who stared at it with intense horror. It was bloody and wrinkly and reddish gray and looked like the sort of thing you would drive back to hell with holy water. “Um,” said Marra.
“Is it…Is…” The mother was panting and could hardly breathe. “It cried. It’s alive, right?”
“Oh, yes,” said Marra hurriedly. “Very alive.” She stared at it, trying to find something else to say. “Had arms and legs. And, uh…a head…”
“That’s good,” said the mother, and began giggling with high, hysterical laughter. “Oh, that’s good. You want them to have heads.”
“Lady of Grackles have mercy,” muttered the Sister Apothecary, but as she was saying this directly into the birth canal, no one but Marra heard.”
― Nettle & Bone
“You get used to it,” the Sister told the infant, and handed the child to Marra, who stared at it with intense horror. It was bloody and wrinkly and reddish gray and looked like the sort of thing you would drive back to hell with holy water. “Um,” said Marra.
“Is it…Is…” The mother was panting and could hardly breathe. “It cried. It’s alive, right?”
“Oh, yes,” said Marra hurriedly. “Very alive.” She stared at it, trying to find something else to say. “Had arms and legs. And, uh…a head…”
“That’s good,” said the mother, and began giggling with high, hysterical laughter. “Oh, that’s good. You want them to have heads.”
“Lady of Grackles have mercy,” muttered the Sister Apothecary, but as she was saying this directly into the birth canal, no one but Marra heard.”
― Nettle & Bone
Diana’s 2025 Year in Books
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