Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt A recently widowed woman working the night shift at a small aquarium. A giant Pacific octopus named Marcellus who observes everything from his tank with extraordinary intelligence. And a mystery that connects them both to something neither of them expected to find. This is a book about grief and the strange ways it moves through us. About the things we carry quietly for years. About connection arriving from the most unlikely directions. And about what it means to be seen — really seen — by something that has no reason to see you at all. Marcellus is one of the most remarkable narrators in recent fiction. He is wise and precise and unexpectedly tender. He notices what the humans around him cannot bring themselves to say. And in noticing, he gives the reader something rare — the feeling of being understood by something that exists entirely outside our world. This book is a Literary Wellness read because it holds grief without rushing it. Because it believes in connection across impossible distances. Because it is, underneath everything, a story about what remains when the people we loved are gone — and how life, stubbornly and beautifully, keeps finding its way through. I chose it for May because spring feels like the right season for a book that says: something unexpected is still coming. You don't know what it is yet. But it's on its way. Discussion questions to sit with as you read: What does Marcellus understand about the humans around him that they can't understand about themselves? Where do you feel Tova's grief most in your body as you read? This book suggests that connection can arrive from the most unexpected places. Has that been true in your own life? What do you think the book believes about what we owe the people we've lost? Drop your thoughts, your favorite lines, your feelings about Marcellus in the comments as you read. No spoiler warnings needed — we're all reading together. The Books We Sit With. May 2026