Remarkably Bright Creatures: A Read with Jenna Pick

The Knit-Wits have been her friends for years, and sometimes she still feels as if she’s a mistaken jigsaw piece who found her way into the wrong puzzle.

How delicate those wounds were back then, how little it took to nudge the scabs out of place and start the bleeding anew.

These women have always worn motherhood big and loud on their chests, but Tova keeps hers inside, sunk deep in her guts like an old bullet. Private.

Tova wonders sometimes if it’s better that way, to have one’s tragedies clustered together, to make good use of the existing rawness. Get it over with in one shot. Tova knew there was a bottom to those depths of despair. Once your soul was soaked through with grief, any more simply ran off, overflowed, the way maple syrup on Saturday-morning pancak

Like a noxious ivy, this notion winds its way around every aspect of Tova’s daily routine.

The tower of tea towels threatens to topple as Tova adds another to the top.

cameron still can’t seem to wrap his head around the shape of the sea here. It’s like a monster with hundreds of long fingers is gripping the edge of the continent, tendrils of deep blue cutting channels through the dark green countryside in every unexpected way.

Something warm, like contentment, floods through Cameron as he slips into bed.

sometimes she still feels as if she’s a mistaken jigsaw piece who found her way into the wrong puzzle.