In The Dogs of Venice Steven Rowley offers up a story of lost love, adventure and the search for self amidst the backdrop of Venice at Christmas. Written during COVID, the story was inspired by Rowley’s love of Italy and his affection for two recently acquired shelter dogs. In the novel, Paul is caught off guard when his five-year marriage is falling apart. He decides to take a planned couples trip alone and finds that a wandering dog leads him to discover new things about himself and Venice. Rowley discusses the novella’s creation here:
AUTHORLINK: James Dickey said the idea for Deliverance came to him as a vision of a man standing alone on top of a mountain. His job was to get the man off the mountain. Where did the idea for The Dogs of Venice come from?
Rowley: I started writing a version of this story in the early days of COVID, when the disease was ravaging Italy. My heart was with the Italian people, who had always been so generous in my travels there. When the world shut down and we were sheltering at home I had lots of time to reflect on the lessons the outside would had taught me. The story began as a way for me to travel in my mind, without putting myself or, more importantly, others at risk. So I guess my job was to get me off the couch. Ha.
AUTHORLINK: This story is very focused on Paul and his reaction to a breakup, and the introspection it spurs. What did you draw from either personally or from literature as you used this breakup as a springboard for what follows?
Rowley: I give a lot of thought to the queer literature that was available to me as a young gay man, books that were a reflection of their time. Stories about people in the shadows of society, living often lonely existences cut short by disease or violence. It’s why I try to infuse my work, which is still about grief, with optimism and joy. When I first came out in the early 1990s I never thought I would see marriage equality in my lifetime. So what a perverse thrill it is to write a story about gay divorce — and finding oneself anew.
AUTHORLINK: Why did you pick Venice as the destination/backdrop for Paul’s journey?
Rowley: Venice is one of those cities where it’s impossible not to get lost, which made it the perfect backdrop for a story about finding oneself. And it feels unlike anywhere else on earth. It’s foreign, it’s timeless, it’s romantic, it’s a hard way of life and yet the light is soft, and it’s comfortable in its own way. And there are no cars! Which makes it a perfect city for dogs. It’s everything that would shake a New Yorker like Paul alive.
AUTHORLINK: I am also a dog lover. Talk to me about your choice to make “Dog” the catalyst for wisdom/self-insight in the story.
Rowley: I’m answering this question with my two rescue dogs snoozing at my feet. I’m always amazed at how integral they are to my writing process, whether that’s simply making me feel less alone as I work through something difficult or reminding me when it’s time to get out of the chair and go for a walk. Are they telepathically feeding me the answers to my own problem? Probably not. But do they calm me enough to keep me from spiraling and focused on the task at hand? Absolutely. Dogs also have a remarkable ability to live in the present, and that’s something Paul very much needs to learn.
AUTHORLINK: What was your greatest challenge in developing The Dogs of Venice?
Rowley: I think good short form fiction is more difficult to write than a novel. It’s harder to execute an emotionally impactful narrative arc with less real estate. For me, at least. And this is a story that takes place over the course of a few days and has a profound effect on the main character. I had to think very carefully about the ways in which people can truly change in just a few days, and how to execute that change in a way that’s rewarding for the reader.
AUTHORLINK: Your books have been very successful. Has this changed the way you approach writing?
Rowley: I’m very lucky. Writing is a solitary occupation and most of the year it’s just me in my office alone and I forget that people are actually reading my work. But there are bigger, more enthusiastic audiences when I tour and that’s incredibly gratifying. I do always worry about letting readers down. That’s a new pressure I’ve put on myself. And I try to balance the experience that I think my readership wants with my desire to grow and change as an artist. Beyond that, I try to put blinders on. I have to. The only voice I want in my ear when writing is my own.
AUTHORLINK: What advice do you offer apprentice writers about craft, staying encouraged in the face of rejection, or both?
Rowley: It happens for everyone in their own time. I always wished I had been someone who graduated from a prestigious writing program like Iowa and signed a book deal at twenty-five. That was not my journey. I couldn’t afford grad school and therefore was largely self-taught. I didn’t publish my first novel until I was in my mid-forties, at which time I was touted as an overnight success. Of course, people don’t see the work that got me there. Two decades of rejection and constantly getting back on the horse. The novels that sit in a drawer that no one will ever read, books I had to write in order to learn. There will be rejection. It’s part of being a published writer. Nurse the wounds. Continue to get better at your craft. Trust your voice. Find your path. And comparison is always the thief of joy.
Steven Rowley is the New York Times bestselling author of Lily and the Octopus, a Washington Post Notable Book of 2016, The Editor, named by NPR as one of the Best Books of 2019, The Guncle, a Goodreads Choice Awards finalist for 2021 Novel of the Year and winner of the Thurber Prize for American Humor, The Celebrants, a TODAY Show Read With Jenna Book Club pick, the instant USA Today Bestseller The Guncle Abroad and the The Dogs of Venice. His fiction has been published in twenty languages. Originally from Portland, Maine, he is a graduate of Emerson College and currently resides in Palm Springs with his husband, the writer Byron Lane, and two rescue dogs.
