A 42 year old writer wakes up to find an octopus on the head of his
aging dachshund, Lily. This story starts off as a kooky funny romp as we explore the imagination of Ted, his relationship with his dog Lily and his interaction with the world in general. As you've probably guessed, Ted in addition to being a writer is also gay. Not just the "I like to love men" sorta gay. The "I'm super well read and very sassy" kind of gay that we all love to witness; whether in real life, on T.V. or in this case in a good book.
At the risk of giving away the story entirely the plot arc moves from light hearted humour to gut wrenching tragedy and pendulously moves between them. The mark of any "good art" is to have the individual experiencing it feel something. Steven Rowley does a good job of this. Yes the "I laughed, I cried" is a pretty cliché comment - but it's cliché for a reason.
I chuckled and I choked back tears.
True story.