Mysticism and Mass Hysteria: A Q&A with Ruby Todd, Author of Bright Objects

Ruby Todd joined blog writer Isabelle McConville to talk all about her debut novel Bright Objects. Read on for an exclusive author Q&A where Isabelle and Ruby dive into the intricacies of grief, mysticism, mass hysteria and more.

Hardcover $28.99

Bright Objects

Bright Objects

By Ruby Todd

In Stock Online

Hardcover $28.99

Who hasn’t looked to the stars for answers? Prepare to be surprised by what you learn in this novel that explores mysticism and cynicism, love and heartbreak.

Who hasn’t looked to the stars for answers? Prepare to be surprised by what you learn in this novel that explores mysticism and cynicism, love and heartbreak.

IM: Can you set up the story and give us your of elevator pitch of the novel?

RT: Bright Objects is set in the small fictional town of Jericho. It follows the story of Sylvia, who is a young widow mourning the death of her husband, Christopher, two years prior to the novel’s opening. It’s about what happens when Sylvia’s life is upended by the arrival of a rare long-period comet that’s very bright, and that hasn’t been seen since the time of pharaohs. It’s also about what happens when her life collides with the lives of two very different men who believed very different things about the comet. One being the astronomer who discovered the comet, and the other, a local meditation teacher who believes that it’s a divine sign. Nothing is the same again after the comet’s arrival. 

IM: And neither is the reader. The characters in this book are all so vibrant, alive, and compelling. We have our protagonist, Sylvia, grieving the death of her husband and searching for his killer after two years, even after the cops have let the case go cold. We have Theo, the charismatic American astronomer that she strikes up a friendship with. And then we have Joseph, the local mystic, grieving the death of his own mother in very unconventional ways. How did these characters come to life for you? Who came first? 

“What does it mean to be here on Earth, amid this wider cosmos and perhaps finding comfort in the vast infinity and unknowability of that wider cosmos.“

RT: Sylvia came first, being the protagonist and narrator. She emerged simultaneously with the first little seed of the novel’s idea that came to me. I still remember it really vividly — I was on a train, reading the news on my phone, and I started to daydream after coming upon an article about a comet that was supposedly soon-to-be visible to the naked eye for viewers in the Southern Hemisphere, which is where I am. I don’t know if it ever was visible — I don’t think it was, comets are often disappointing. I’d had this vision as I was looking at the window of a bright comet, and wondered what it would like if it appeared above a small town. What might it mean to a particular young woman who was at a loss in her life, mourning someone who she loved and reckoning with a question of how to survive that loss and how to move on? What does it mean to be here on Earth, amid this wider cosmos and perhaps finding comfort in the vast infinity and unknowability of that wider cosmos. That was the start.  

It wasn’t until I felt like I had access to Sylvia’s voice that I started writing first pages. The voice came quite immediately, possibly because it is in some ways similar to my own. I envisioned Sylvia as a character who sometimes grappled quite profoundly in her journey with distinguishing the boundary between fantasy and reality, sometimes between even sanity and madness. That’s part of her struggle, as she comes back to life, in a way.  

The central triangle of characters is formed between Sylvia and two diametrically opposed male characters who draw out the tensions she feels internally between science and mysticism, rationalism and longing for some higher order of reality. I knew quite early on that I wanted a character who was a scientist — that character quickly became Theo, the astronomer who discovered the comet. He is very aware of the potentially dangerous and seductive qualities of comets, as someone who studies them. Then we have Joseph, a local landowner who has a lot more in common with Sylvia then first meets the eye. Not only is he someone who is also experiencing the throes of grief, but someone who shares quite a romantic sentiment and is prone to flights of fancy.  

IM: It’s so easy to get swept away in this novel because of how relatable Sylvia is. I think we’re all searching for greater meaning, asking ourselves those big questions and being pulled between what the manifestations of Theo and Joseph represent. I love the juxtaposition between them because one is so grounded, and the other extremely spiritual, but they both take it to two different extremes. Did you write this sequentially? What did the writing process look like for you? 

“I experimented with a creative form of outlining, but still invited surprise into the process.“

RT: I really experimented with Bright Objects. I had been a pantser before, just following the unconscious stream, letting the discovery happen and creating glorious messes that were not necessarily so glorious. With Bright Objects, I really wanted to try something new, so I experimented with a creative form of outlining, but still invited surprise into the process. I found that it worked for me so much better because I had this loose structure that I pinned down. This allowed me to really work on a macro level while I was researching, dreaming up the characters and doing that developmental work. There was more freedom to relax into the process — it was a lovely balance for me.  

I did write sequentially. I have quite the editorial agent, which is great. I ended up writing chapters in batches, and then sending them to her. She would provide me feedback as we went, so by the time I’d finished each batch they were quite polished. I learned a lot from Bright Objects. It was really satisfying in that way, although also full of challenges. 

IM: The comet in the novel is based on a real comet in 1997. What did your research process look like and how did you know that you wanted to write a story about it? 

“People were living their lives under the beacon of this bright object in the sky.“

RT: There are a lot of parallels between the fictional comet of the novel and the real Hale Bopp comet that also appeared in 1997 for a similar period of time. I wanted to retain the creative license and freedom to change details and to have this fictional comet be really bright in the Southern Hemisphere, which Hale Bopp really never was — we didn’t have the same experience as North American viewers did in ‘97. I was imagining a slightly altered parallel reality in which Hale Bopp didn’t happen and St. John did instead. It was visible to the naked eye for Northern Hemisphere viewers, and it accompanied people for over a year. People were living their lives under the beacon of this bright object in the sky.  

There was this particular atmosphere that emerged in that time, where there was a lot of enthusiasm for space. Around that time, there was the fledgling internet, chat rooms, and amateur astronomers all coming online to share their snapshots, data and excitement over the comet. There was also this mounting anxiety over the end of the millennium, and what became y2k panic after the comet had left. Then, of course, there was the tragic response to the comet on the part of the Heaven’s Gate sect. I found that really compelling on a psychological level and as a cultural watershed moment. There are certain precedents for reactions like that to comets in history as well. There’s a point in the novel where Joseph says that no matter what we believe about comets, we can agree on the fact that they are always inspiring passionate responses. It seems to be true, particularly if they’re visible to the naked eye, whether you’re a scientist or a rationalist, a cynic, a romantic or a mystic.  

IM: When I read this novel, it was actually around the time of the recent total solar eclipse, and I noticed how a lot of what you wrote about plays out in real life. I particularly enjoyed how you write mass hysteria, people falling into a frenzy over their obsessions, and the things that utterly consume us. For instance, I know people who traveled to get to the path of totality, and once everything blacked out, they described it as if it was a spiritual experience, even bursting into tears. In the novel, Theo says that with every comet comes a prophet, and I think that’s so interesting and very true. I love how you write the ways that we experience things as a collective, whether it be obsessions like music, artists, movies we love, or a giant, historic comet streaking across the sky. What made you want to write about that? 

RT: I think that’s one of the potential marvels and powerful aspects of experiencing the arrival of a bright comet, a total eclipse, or any relatively rare celestial phenomenon. It’s not only the potential to have communion with the otherworldly, but also the potential to have a collective, shared experience. One of the best frameworks I’ve read that explains the nature of this is the concept of the sublime, which was developed by Edmund Burke, the English philosopher. It was elaborated upon by Immanuel Kant and Schopenhauer; they apply this idea of sublime experience to various phenomena, often nature, including cosmic or celestial experience. It’s this idea that we are these finite, small creatures, and we’re able sometimes in life to have these encounters with the vast, unknowable mystery of existence beyond us in a very palpable way. That could be experiencing the sudden darkness of a total eclipse, or it could be standing under the spotlight of a comet that you’re experiencing in connection with your town, your community, maybe the whole world. In Sylvia’s experience, for example, this has always been the case of bright comets. She’s constantly thinking about what it must have been like for the ancient Egyptians when they experienced this same celestial body centuries ago. It connects us in a really tangible way to our ancestors.  

In terms of mass hysteria, even those of us who might fancy ourselves to be really rational, grounded people always have an edge, and I wondered what could bring us to that edge. In stories, that’s part of where the juice is, placing characters under pressure to see what they’re made of. That’s Sylvia’s trajectory, where she discovers that she’s stronger than she thought she was.  

IM: My next read right after Bright Objects was Cultish by Amanda Montell, which touches on a lot of what you write about. What do you think draws us to these cultish stories and why? 

“Who can really say that they’ve never nudged up against madness?“

RT: I think so few of us are able to even get halfway through our lives without having some kind of reckoning with disaster. On a personal level, if not, on a more shared level. Life is constantly presenting us with tests, isn’t it? Who can really say that they’ve never nudged up against madness? This is a question that I’m constantly grappling with. You can be living a privileged life and be grappling with internal conundrums and frailties that might have to do with mental health, losing someone you loved, and you just don’t really feel like you can survive, or some other kind of enduring sadness that makes you feel like you can’t go on. Who gets away with not grappling with these challenges? That’s life. Whether we’re reading fiction or nonfiction, whenever we feel connected with an honest voice that’s somehow speaking from felt experience is kind of the heart of fairy tales. They’re cloaked in allegory and symbolism. It’s like we’re imbibing the potential clues for how we might survive similar tests in life and how to be strong. How to cope with loss, failure, uncertainty, brutality — all these things life throws at us. In some ways, writing is the answer to that. I write to try and answer questions that I can’t otherwise. 

IM: When it comes to these cultish stories, I think people can fall down a rabbit hole of YouTube videos, podcasts, and books about these very real events like Heaven’s Gate, and I wonder why we’re so interested in these things. I think part of it has to do with fear and curiosity. You might think, ‘Oh, yeah, that happened to those people, but it could never happen to me, right?’ The way you write Joseph is very similar to how Amanda Montell talks about cult leaders, and how charismatic they are. Sylvia immediately feels comfortable opening up to him, and that’s very calculated. I think that we’re drawn to these stories because we wonder, even if we don’t want to admit it, if any of it could ever happen to us.  

RT: It’s such a fundamental aspect of why we read — to not feel so alone and to feel like there’s some hope.  

IM: Lastly, what can you tell us about what you’re working on next?  

RT: Yes, it’s another novel. It shares with Bright Objects a certain sense of obsession, which seems to be unavoidable for me at the moment. It’s a story of a female friendship that takes place in the international art world. It has to do with questions of loyalty and reputation, as well as some through lines with Bright Objects, like dealing with grief and surviving losses of various kinds. 

IM: I’m very excited to read that, and I know readers will be too. Thank you so much for joining us today.  

RT: Thanks so much. 

This interview was edited for length and clarity.