Shelby Van Pelt: On the Power of Description, Platonic Love, the Conflicted Experience of Relationships, and Her Debut Novel, "Remarkably Bright Creatures"
In Shelby Van Pelt’s debut novel, Remarkably Bright Creatures, we fall into pages in the journal of Marcellus, a gloriously empathetic octopus. Marcellus takes us on a journey through the weary mind of an old animal captive behind glass that looks out upon the effects of the human condition, in and out of the walls of the aquarium. This story of intertwined characters is spearheaded by Tova, a custodian of the aquarium who is navigating deep grief and the complicated changes that come with age. She finds herself in unexpected relationships that challenge her sense of community, freedom, and navigation of the past.
Reading through this story challenges the readers' judgement of people and their life stories. Additionally, the characters in this narrative bring up internal and external conflicts that are exceptionally relatable. Van Pelt dives deeper into the tools she used to write from a unique perspective to tell this serendipitous and healing tale of human relationships.
Tell me about writing from the perspective of an octopus. Easy aspects? Challenges? Takeaways?
Writing Marcellus was so much fun. His voice came naturally to me. I’m not sure what that says about me, but it was as if I had this cranky little fellow living on my shoulder, and I loved it!
Consistency and logistics were a challenge, though. Marcellus is obviously fictional, but I wanted him to feel real. The things he was doing needed to be within the realm of possibility, even if a stretch. I think that’s one of the things that makes Marcellus so entertaining. Like, an octopus could never do that…or could they?
What was your inspiration behind your various characters' personalities and their relationships?
Well, I steal character quirks from real life and real people, like most authors. And it’s boring to read about perfect people, so my characters are always a bit messy. From the scratch-and-dent section. Solid frame, but in need of repairs.
Tova, my primary human character, is loosely based on my late grandmother. Like Tova, she was this tiny little Swedish lady who was tough but also incredibly kind and loving, and she had this stoic shell around her. Always stayed busy. Rarely let her emotions peek through, even after my grandfather died. She lived alone for years, and everything was always just fine. She drank more coffee than anyone I’ve ever met.
I suppose I wanted to write a book where, for someone like her, the emotions finally found their way out.
The other characters all face the same problem, I think, in different ways. They’re stuck, and they shut out anyone who tries to help. They need real friendships, but to get there, they must make themselves vulnerable, and that can be hard. I think I write from a personal place there, because that is something that’s difficult for me, too. Having moved all over the country as an adult I have gone through it time after time, trying to make friends. It’s not easy! There’s certainly a streak of my grandmother’s stoic Swede in me.
What inspires your style in writing description?
I love description. Too much. It’s one of my weaknesses as a writer. I can write pages of the stuff. I’m describing a tree in someone’s yard, and suddenly I’m telling the whole history of this tree. I will happily linger in anecdotes of every bird who has ever alighted upon its branches, every squirrel who has scaled its trunk. There’s that early-autumn morning when a stiff breeze dares to pluck a yellow leaf. It flutters toward the lawn below, where cold dew trembles on each blade of grass, the promise of frost in the air--
You get the idea.
My regular critique partners are great about calling me out on this. Get on with the story, Shelby. That’s lovely, but why do you need it? Not that there isn’t a time and place to linger on vivid description, but for me, I’ve learned that I tend to write that way out of avoidance. I don’t know what to cook up next, plot-wise, so I stall in the setting, because that’s easier for me.
The best descriptions, of course, evoke emotion with simple yet striking prose. I aspire to that!
I loved the uniqueness of the octopus communicating to the reader in journal format, dated by days in captivity. Who do you deem as the intended audience of the octopus? Who is Marcellus hoping will read it?
You know, I don’t think Marcellus himself knows! Clearly, he’s addressing humans, which would make sense because he’s using the English language. Human words, which were easy for him to learn. I think Marcellus is profoundly lonely, perhaps more so than any other character in the book. And when we’re lonely, there’s often an instinct to reach out, even we don’t know who we’re reaching for.
In a sense, Marcellus is writing to the void, simply hoping that someone will hear him. It’s kind of like the science fiction trope where some unfortunate space traveler is stranded on a distant planet and faithfully sends their daily transmissions into the ether, hoping that someone, somewhere, might happen to receive them.
Although other characters' perspectives are written in 3rd person, you do a remarkable job of altering the narrating voice to match the personality of the character, as if we have a direct path into the authentic language of their thoughts. How did you choose the voice for each character?
Voice is meticulous, but I find it fun work! As the writer, I’m forced to simmer in my character’s headspace, really spend some time there. And like the creation of a good broth, it can be a slow, experimental process to get the flavor right.
I am far from an expert in this area of craft, but it’s one of my favorite parts about fiction writing, so I’ll offer a couple of exercises that worked for me.
Take your character and write them without direction. Place them in a random, mundane situation: they’re in an annoyingly long line at the grocery store. What’s happening in their internal monologue? What do they think of the other people in line with them? What sort of language do they use, in the privacy of their own mind? Let your character ramble without any judgement from you, the writer, on whether the material is “usable.” (Most of it probably won’t be, but I’ve plucked some gems from this sort of exercise!)
Use metaphor to define your character’s voice. Overuse it, even, when you’re early-drafting. Say your character’s a chef: they describe someone’s cheek dimple as the eye of a potato. And so on. Of course, this can quickly become heavy-handed, but when you’re training yourself to see the world through a certain character’s lens, I find being overly metaphoric is a great way to get into their head, even if I need to trim it back later.
Every word matters in voice-driven fiction. One stray word can break the spell. Reframe your character’s inner monologue as dialogue: if this character wouldn’t say it, they probably wouldn’t think it.
I love voice. It can be hard, but it can also be so much fun!
What impact do you anticipate for readers as they experience parts of the story through aquarium glass?
A conflicted experience, I think. It’s transformative to connect with an octopus though aquarium glass. It’s also highly uncomfortable to see animals held captive--especially animals that exhibit a high degree of intelligence.
I honestly don’t have a perfect answer here, and I’m not trying to. Humankind’s relationship with our planet, and the myriad other life we share it with, is complicated. We’ve fast-tracked our planet’s degradation, and it’s us who can act to slow its destruction. But we live here, too. We are animals who have a need to connect with other animals.
If being able to see and experience the wonders of our planet and its remarkable creatures up close helps nudge folks in the direction of caring for our planet and its future, then I can’t help but feel like the captivity of Marcellus, and others like him, is not in vain.
(Marcellus himself might disagree. And I respect that!)
[Semi spoiler alert question] What were your challenges in orchestrating a story with characters who end up having their lives intertwined by shared history?
I think of that shared history as a platonic love story, and I love platonic love. There’s something so engaging about books that frame friendships or family bonds (or found family) as love stories. People that find peace in caring for one another, even if it just means keeping someone company by sitting in their living room with them.
Stories are supposed to have a twist, I know. And in early drafting, it was tempting to make the connection between Tova and Cameron the twist. I thought, what if the source of tension here is that it’s painfully obvious, early on, to readers…but not to the characters themselves? And then it becomes almost like the romance trope of the one who almost got away. Which is a great trope.
How has writing this story altered your perspective as a writer and storyteller?
My new mantra is JUST TRY IT. I mean…you never know. Write weird stuff, if that’s what you’re inclined to write. I certainly thought I had written some weird (and probably unsellable) stuff when I got up the nerve to query my novel. I had crafted the hook of my query letter from the octopus’s perspective. I was prepared to nod bravely, acknowledge that no one else understood, and slink away.
Instead, here we are.
You never know. Missing one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, and all. But it’s true. Write the story. Pitch the manuscript. Embrace the weird. I live for reading the weird!
I read you were born and raised in the Pacific Northwest and now residing in Chicago. How does this story affect your relationship with the setting of where you grew up?
I miss the Pacific Northwest every single day. It’s home. Always will be.
But in some ways, writing this book was about re-establishing that connection. I left my hometown at eighteen and went to Southern California (which, at the time, seemed the most glamorous, fabulous place in the world compared to Tacoma). In the years since, I’ve lived all over the US. I think I needed some space from Washington to truly appreciate how special it is. Other places are special, too, but the PNW just has something extra.
What final words do you have for readers regarding grief and loss?
My grandmother, the one who inspired my main character, Tova…I never actually said goodbye to her. She passed away in 2015. I have one set of awkward photos on my phone from those late years, a rare occasion when the two of us together.
We were incredibly close growing up. My grandmother was my best friend when I was a kid, a daily fixture. My failure to take time from my busy twenty-something life to spend more time with her before it was too late is a regret I’ll always live with.
Honestly, it’s trite, but seize the moments. I wish I would have taken them and preserved them in jar, the same way my grandma used to preserve stalks of sweet spring rhubarb.
Anything else I didn't touch on that you want to communicate regarding this novel?
I had so much fun writing REMARKABLY BRIGHT CREATURES, and I hope you all have fun reading it! Thank you for trusting me to deliver on this wacky idea of an octopus narrator. I hope Marcellus does justice to this fascinating group of intelligent invertebrates that we still know so little about.
Shelby Van Pelt’s debut novel, REMARKABLY BRIGHT CREATURES, will be published by Ecco/HarperCollins (US) and Bloomsbury (UK) in Spring 2022. Born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, she’s now missing the mountains in the Chicago area with her husband and two children.
About the Interviewer
Kelly Fernandez is an author of three books that each take on a different style and genre across the fictional platform. Her creative background stems from short story writing, yet she has recently been committed to a future of writing short novels. She additionally is a contributing writer to SLUG (Salt Lake Underground) Magazine, focusing mainly on local features and reviews. Her hobbies include watching film, walking around the city, and dancing wildly.