Dan Brotzel

Dan Brotzel is a British author known for blending humor and poignant storytelling. He has penned several works, including the collection of short stories, Hotel du Jack, and the collaborative novel-in-emails, Work in Progress. His recent work, The Wolf in the Woods (2024), marks his debut in the Bloodhound Books line-up.

Dan Brotzel was born and resides in suburban north London with his partner and three children. Around 2015, Brotzel began writing fiction after a long journalism career and content creation. Since then, his prolific writing has led to the publication of over a hundred short stories. The feedback he receives from his local writers' group has significantly shaped Brotzel's approach to writing.

Dan Brotzel's stories have been featured in numerous publications such as Slackjaw, The Fence, and Tiny Molecules, earning him multiple nominations for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net.

His accolades include winning the 2018 Riptide Journal short story competition and receiving commendations in Leicester Writes and Aesthetica contests.

The Wolf in the Woods (2021) is a darkly humorous novel exploring the strained marriage of Colleen and Andrew, who have not been intimate for over eleven weeks. The couple's last-ditch effort to save their relationship involves a week away in a secluded cottage, which lacks scenic beaches and has its challenges, including a sinister landlord.

Brotzel weaves humor and suspense with a keen eye on human follies, saying in an interview, "I think writing funny is about taking risks — for example, daring to write the thing that everyone thinks but no one dares say aloud."

Reflecting on his writing process, Brotzel notes the impact of the lockdown on his routine, "Before lockdown, I got into a routine of starting writing every day at 5.30 am. With lockdown, that went out the window. It was hard to fit writing in with home-schooling, and somehow everything turned to a very slow-moving treacle."

Photo credit: www.danbrotzel.com

Hangoskönyvek

Idézetek

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SATURDAY
Oh God. Here you go again, hanging over me, invading my sleep with your morning breath. As my eyes flicker open, you linger over me for a long moment, nuzzling my neck and furtively assessing my reaction. I feel your arms tremble.

When you get no response, you slide off with a disgusted grunt. Even though I’m still half-asleep, I sense the guilt-seeking rays emanating from your half-turned back. I roll over and away.

But you just can’t let me be, can you? The pointed buzzing of an electric toothbrush, the pedantic click of a wardrobe door, a coat-hanger’s righteous jangle – your busy-busy faffing is just enough to break my spell. I am conscious, and there’s no escaping it. No escaping you.

Today, I think. Let it be today that I find a way.

‘Come on!’ you say. ‘We should have left by now!’

And I think: Next week.

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