Broodcomb Press, Inexistent Texts No. 1, Postcards 10 pc., £6 [Limited] – 2020
A set of ten postcards for imagined books, beautifully collected and strictly limited.
These ten inexistent texts fit into the strange tales, experimental fiction and poetry ethos of Broodcomb Press. From the sinister imaginary friend of Mompetty to the twilight ritual of Death and the Bachelor, this collection of postcards is the perfect short introduction to the peninsula. Designed to be bookmarks/thank you notes for Broodcomb Press books, forty complete sets of Inexistent Texts No. 1 [bc08a] are offered for sale.
Once they’re gone, they’re gone—
“It’s clearer in the aerial views,” Doktor Vos said. She put a fingertip on the image, dimpling and distorting the drop-down projector screen as she traced a tree root from stump to stump without ever lifting her finger. “The root systems run into each other.”
“It’s all the same tree,” I said.
“It’s all the same tree. But that’s not the scary part.” She clicked to the next image. “When we used ground-penetrating radar – a tool I believe you call The Bonefinder General – we found this—.”
Vos fell silent as the radar image told its tale: dismembered bones clustered in the roots. Under each stump lay a bone-nest gradually being pulled apart under the soil. The woods were dead, each tree felled, yet their roots were slow fingers taking skeletons to pieces.
“But only one boy is missing from the village,” I said, “and there are dozens of bodies here.”
Vos’s eyes found me. “No,” she replied. “We’ve analysed these bones. They’re identical. There are dozens of bodies under what remains of the woods, but they’re all the same boy—.”
from The Woods Where the Boy Went Missing Have Been Cleared of Trees, by Hui Yee Chung
UK £6 + Free postage and packing
Europe £6 + £5 postage and packing
RoW £6 + £7.50 postage and packing
USA £6 + £7.50 postage and packing
Broodcomb Press, The Sour Child, .pdf 43 pp., £0 [Unlimited] – 2020
“Following the typesetting for Edita Bikker’s The Night of Turns, the hard copy proof was recycled to make new notebooks. Significant portions of text were unmarked, however, so I used sections of these pages to create a small one-off book. I cut holes in the pages (after B.S. Johnson’s Albert Angelo) and assembled the book block from these sheets. I cut up sections of a red print of the book’s cover art for the jacket. It was a rainy autumn Wednesday afternoon—
In the middle of the night, it occurred I might use image reading software to see what it would make of the pages. I took some photographs and opened them as text docs, which turns any script in the image into text
that can be cut and pasted. I then copied the subsequent ‘readings’. The sections, and the different text directions, challenged the programme to find meaning where there was none, and this resulted in some curious – if not entirely random – texts.”
from the introduction to The Sour Child.