Maltese-born writer and English teacher Paul J. Alessandro released his new memoir, Dogs, Dust and Dreams, this month. In an interview with The Malta Independent on Sunday, Alessandro spoke about the inspiration behind the book, his transition from Malta and the UK to the hills of Andalusia, and the humour, struggles and beauty of building a life in rural Spain alongside his partner Keith, their animals and a cast of unforgettable village characters.

Alessandro explained that the memoir was not sparked by one defining moment but by the slow layering of years abroad. "When I first arrived, I was too busy adapting to think of writing a book," he said. "Over time, the land, the animals, and the stories of the people around me built up like sediment. The book became a way of making sense of a life shift that had quietly transformed me. The initial writing process seemed daunting, but once I started, it just flowed, and I happily spent an average of six hours a day writing."

He has lived in Spain for 15 years, after spending 13 years in the UK, where he completed both a BA and Master's degree in Ancient History. He described the decision to settle in Andalusia as the result of "the incidence of coincidence". "The light, the endless space, and a sense of possibility drew me in," he explained. "After Malta and years of city life in the UK, Andalusia felt like a wide canvas - warm, raw, and welcoming. I wanted a slower pace, more connection with nature, and somewhere our animals would thrive."

The transition, however, was far from straightforward. Alessandro pointed to bureaucracy and language barriers as the most unexpected challenges during the early months. "I speak Italian fluently and assumed that would automatically help me. But similarities to Spanish are not always to your benefit, and many basic vocabulary words are totally different. Here in Andalucía, villagers often speak Castellano in their own way, dropping consonants like breadcrumbs. They can be challenging to understand, even for other Spanish speakers."

Adapting to the rhythms of rural life required patience and, in his words, surrender. "At first I tried to impose my old structures, but Andalusia taught me to soften. Days were shaped by animals, weather, neighbours dropping by. I learned to plan less and listen more - and discovered a quieter kind of productivity. And it was all worth it."

Those animals - horses, dogs and chickens - were not only a source of routine but also of belonging. "They've been my anchor," he said. "Caring for them forced me outdoors, especially the horses, into the seasons and the landscape, even on difficult days. Through them I built connections with neighbours, vets, and farmers, so they became a bridge to the local community."

Dogs, Dust and Dreams is filled with such details, from the bark of a dog echoing across a hill to the smell of wild fennel or the turn of phrase of a neighbour. Alessandro explained that much of the book came from quickly jotting down impressions before memory had time to smooth them over. Riding his horses, with his dogs running beside him, gave him space to savour those moments. The villagers who appear in the book have largely embraced their roles. "Most were amused rather than hesitant - the Spanish in particular. I changed names in one case and adjusted identifying details to respect privacy, but people here have a sense of humour about themselves. A few have been quite proud to know a version of them appears in a book."

While Andalusia is at the heart of the memoir, Alessandro also weaves in his Maltese roots. "Malta, which I will always love deeply, gave me a sense of community and adaptability that helped me fit into rural Spain. Writing about that thread felt like honouring where I came from. It also shows readers that migration isn't a clean break - you carry your first landscape inside you. No matter what happens, Malta will always be a large part of me."

This blending of cultures led him to reflect on belonging in a new way. "It made me see belonging as a continuum rather than a destination. I'm Maltese by birth, UK-shaped by education, and Andalusian by adoption - and all of those identities coexist. Writing the book helped me stop thinking of myself as 'other' and start seeing myself as part of a wider, blended story. Each of the countries I've lived in played its part; the trick is to hold onto the best qualities of each - not always easy, but easier the older I get."

Although the project began as a daunting prospect, once he started writing, the stories poured out. Drawing on notes, photographs, scraps of dialogue and sensory memory, Alessandro said the process revealed how much he had absorbed. "Funny thing is, I can't remember trivial conversations, but I have a photographic memory of things that move me." Writing, he added, allowed him to step back and see the larger arc of his journey. "Living it day by day, you don't always see the arc. Writing it let me step back and recognise the courage, mistakes, lessons learned, humour, and love threaded through it all. It showed me that the unsettled years had actually been shaping something solid. I'm grateful for this privileged life, especially when I think of those facing hardship, genocide or deprivation."

The memoir also offers a rare portrait of a long-term same-sex partnership lived largely outside the public spotlight. Alessandro acknowledged the sensitivity of writing about his life with Keith but said it was important to offer a perspective often underrepresented in literature. He hopes LGBTQ readers, in particular, will recognise their own experiences in his story of love and resilience.

As for what comes next, Alessandro is already considering future projects. "Yes, I'm thinking about a bilingual version of Dogs, Dust and Dreams. And fiction tempts me - the rhythms and characters here are rich with story. But for now I'm enjoying letting this book find its readers. And, as a lesson learned, I will embrace the flow."