The Hand Behind the Pen

Hello there.

I’m James Bojaciuk, and I write stories.

If you’re looking for more information than that, I’m afraid, there’s little enough left to tell.

I’ve worked in the publishing world for nearly a decade, first at CLC Publications, then at the award-winning magazine Cease, Cows, and presently at my own publishing house, 18thWall Productions.

My fiction and essays have appeared in Sargasso, Those Who Live Long Forgotten, The Horror Crossover Encyclopedia, RAT-TAT-TAT: Short Blasts of Pulp, Tales of the Undead: Suffer Eternal volumes Two and Three, LAMP, Thought Catalog, and The Television Crossover Universe among many other publications in print and online. I am the creator of the upcoming Alice in Wonderland-inspired audio drama Mira Harbor  and script-editor for Time Walkers, an interactive webseries.

Stories are slated to appear in Hollywood Mysteries (with Nicole Petit), Just So Stories, and The Art of Detection: 12 Cases of Sherlock Holmes, among others.

If you ask me about Sherlock Holmes, Alice in Wonderland, fairy tales, or the myth of Victorian sexuality, I fear I will never shut up. Just nod when I stop to breathe.

You can reach me at

You can find James Bojaciuk’s Curriculum Vitae right here! All in terrifying detail, with every jot and tittle preserved. Do you dare to click?

I write in the tradition of the golden age of storytelling: detective tales, pulp adventures, sprawling stories of cities and families. If a story could conceivably be published in The Strand, illustrated by Sidney Paget, or in the pages of Adventure or Doc Savage Magazine or Argosy it could very well have been written by me. Comparisons to 80s adventure cartoons (G.I. Joe, Jem, et al.) are accurate, but rarely acknowledged.

I’m CEO Duobus of 18thWall Productions (, a world-class publisher dedicated to the lost art of storytelling.

What do we do at 18thWall? That’s best explained with a bit of a parable.

Walk into a bookstore. Pick up a book. Any of them, there are more than enough at hand. Eight outta ten, that book will be abominably ugly. Someone spent ten cents–and ten minutes–on the cover and font and design and shoved that right out the door.

Open it now. Read some of it. It’s probably going to be pretty darn terrible–so Pretty Darn Terrible that the non-writers in the house are leaping up to say that they could do a better job. Blindfolded. Narrating all the while to someone who has only the vaguest idea what English is.

Sniff it. Go ahead, the staff are pretty used to it by now. It smells like a factory, doesn’t it, and not the crumpled railway vanilla a book should smell like.

Books are an industry, not an art.

I want at least one corner of your bookstore to be art–a crumpled vanilla, lovely covered corner with the best writing you can find.

And all of the above, taken together, is a remarkably accurate picture of me.

Now wasn’t it just easier to say I write stories?

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