Author Spotlight: D.L. Husband
D.L. Husband (Daniel Leslie Husband) middle name after his Grandfathers. The only way 'Husband Material' works. If it wasn't then I'd just be a reet crank. From a town in the North East of England called Chester-Le-Street. “It is slap bang in the middle of Durham City, Newcastle & Sunderland”. Husband states they are a massive nerd for Warhammer and Games Workshop models and have been since they were a kid. Used to host games when they were younger and made up campaigns to run.
In their spare time, they like reading and listening to audiobooks, socializing, and gaming. Kit bashing models when I've got the time. But I work full time as a line chef in a busy venue so my time is very preoccupied with work or writing for the most part. Husband says he really loves writing rhyming poetry or lyric essays. His favorite way to write though is through conversational dialogue with the reader of their collections. They dabble in all genres though, just find their voice translates best through poetry.
They have two books out now, both poetry collections. The first is 'HUSBAND MATERIAL VOL. I: STORIES FROM THE STREETS' published by Deadman's Press Ink. The second 'HUSBAND MATERIAL VOL. II: TWENTY-SEVEN ADDRESSES' is published by Hidden Hand Press. Both are available now on Amazon, B&N, Waterstones or through Husband or the publishers directly.
He will be performing at Durham Fringe festival July 23/24 this year for anyone who wants to come see me there. More dates and shows to come. He loves doing all of this and thanks everyone who has connected with him and his words.
Read our delightful interview and learn more about Dan below:
What was the moment you knew you wanted to be a writer? Was there a specific book, experience, or person that inspired you?
D.L.H: I never saw myself as a poet, but I always saw myself as a writer. I used to read constantly as a kid. My dad was the same way before he had a stroke, he never stopped reading. Wherever we went, he always had a rugged, beat-up paperback with him. Always.
Watching him read was a big part of it for me. I looked up to him, and I wanted to do what he was doing. That’s how I got into Terry Pratchett. You'll feel an awful lot through this guy. He is the standard when it comes to fiction, wit, satire, and reflecting life in a way that's both funny and real. His writing was the first thing that really made me want to write.
But it was music, especially rap that taught me how to really write. I started out writing songs in this little punk band I was in when I was 15. I was this goth kid in a hardcore scene, writing pretty solid lyrics, but that's where the spark to write came from. Rap music, though, taught me that you can do so much with words. You can say more or sometimes, way less and still hit just as hard. Strip the beat away from a rap verse and what you’ve got is poetry.
So yeah, it started with rap, for sure, but my writing’s grown a lot since then. I've been exposed to more styles, more voices, more people. I’ve found great prompts, advice, and ways to connect with other writers and readers. Even through yourself with cozy ink press. Over time, all those little influences, those insights and suggestions have shaped what I put into the world.
Do you have any writing rituals or habits that help you get into the creative flow? What does your ideal writing setup look like?
D.L.H: I'm not really into routines and that sort of thing. I've got a messy mind. I never had, like, a structured setup. I’ve been homeless, moved from place to place, and struggled to manage things when I was younger, money problems and all that. So I never had that kind of “sit down in a nice, tidy office” vibe. Honestly, that idea kind of repels me a little bit.
I do want to get there one day. I’d love to have that space eventually. But for now, I think I actually work better around chaos. Like, I use public transport to get to work because it's cheaper, easier, and owning a car or even affording housing on my wage just isn’t realistic. But those mornings on the bus? I do loads of writing there. There's all this noise, energy, people talking, it’s stimulating.
Sometimes I'll overhear something, or someone will say a word or a phrase that sticks with me. I’ll jot it down. I’ll turn that word around in my head, and that becomes a sentence. I’ll sit with it for a week, maybe two, and then I’ll come back to it. Some pieces happen just like that. I pick up my phone and start writing. I do so much of it on my phone now.
At the same time, I’m kind of traditional, I love pen and paper. I buy loads of paper and pens, they’re everywhere, but I can never seem to find one when I need it. I take a backpack with me everywhere. That’s probably a holdover from my homeless days. I’ve got everything in there: laptop, deodorant, boots, my little life, basically. I’m always digging around in it for a pen and coming up empty.
So now I’ve literally sellotaped a marker pen into my bag at work. It's always there. It’s a gold marker, totally useless for actually writing anything down but it’s there.
Your first published book was a major milestone. Looking back, what’s one thing you wish you had known before publishing?
D.L.H: My first book was published by Dead Man’s Press Ink. It was actually one of the first places I submitted that manuscript to, the first one you've read. I’d put together over ten drafts by that point. The book was basically ten years’ worth of writing, give or take. Some of it was newer, sure, but there were definitely pieces in there from way earlier. And you can hear that in the voice. There’s a lot of rap influence, that sort of rhyme and rhythm. You see it come across more like rapport than something I’d fully shaped into a specific style. I was trying to write in my own voice. That’s what I always try to do.
And that’s been true with both books, holding onto my voice through the editing process, which is tough. Making sure it still sounds like me, still says what I meant to say. In the second book, I've got a stack here, it's called Husband Material, Volume Two: Seven Addresses, and that one was published by Hidden Hand Press. You can find it on my Instagram or theirs, or on their website. For that one, I included a colloquial glossary.
That was a big shift for me. I realized that some of the language I used in the first book maybe didn’t translate for everyone. England’s super regional, right? The dialects can change dramatically even across small distances. I know the States have that too, but in Geordie, where I’m from, around Newcastle, it hits different. And there’s a lot of beautiful rhyme in that dialect that I didn’t want to lose. I never thought about that stuff when I first started. I was just like, “Right, I’m going to write books. Let’s see if it’s worth it.”But getting into the spoken word scene, actually performing, changed everything. It shifted how I think about what I write. It’s not just about putting it on the page anymore. It’s about how it sounds, how it feels in a room.
So, if I had to give advice to someone putting their first book out, I’d say understand what editing really is. What good editing looks like, how long it takes, and how much it demands from you. But it’s absolutely worth it. Really, truly worth it. With Deadlines Press, we did one rewrite. It wasn’t the most collaborative process, if I’m honest. Not super engaging. But they gave me the opportunity to get the book out there, onto KDP and into the world. That experience pushed me to learn how to format a book, how to typeset, how to edit my own stuff. It was rough, yeah, but I got through it. It taught me a lot.
The second book was a completely different experience. I worked with Haman, the editor at Hidden Hand Press. Shout out to Haman, he’s been amazing. We really worked through that manuscript. Rewrote sections, pulled pieces, shaped it. He pulled me back from the edge more than once. I was ready to scrap the whole thing at one point. Even the title piece. He was like, “It’s gotta go,” and I was like, “Mate, it’s the title!” But he was right. That process showed me how deep editing can go and what it looks like when it's done right.
I was so proud of that first book. So many people told me it would never happen, or they’d just dismiss it. You know, kind of condescending, like, “Oh, it’s just him and his little words.” But getting that book out there? From where I’d been, doing time, sorting myself out, and then publishing a book? That was a massive turning point. I felt like, “Right, lad, you’ve really done something here.”
And the second book, that just solidified it. Now I feel like I know what the finished product looks like. I keep the structure simple. Twenty-seven pieces of poetry, four pieces of prose, four pieces of discord. I like the way I write. I like the rhythm of it. Not everything needs to be 500 pages. You can put four tight volumes out and still make an impact. You can always come back later and do a selected works collection or something bigger. But for now, it’s just about getting the words out there, getting them into people’s hands, hoping they connect with it, and hoping they enjoy it.
Great writing leaves a lasting impact on readers. What do you hope readers take away from your stories?
D.L.H:Overall what I really want people to take away from my writing is their own perspective from my words. Apply their own experience and thought processes to what they're reading and derive whatever meaning that they find useful.
So much of what I write is inspired by being at the bottom looking up, never having attained the lofty height of personal success in the measures I was taught to apply. However, this does not mean that peeling myself back from addiction and homelessness does not come with its own feeling of success.
I hope people take away that, for every bad situation, there is a good one round the way. For every disgusting argument you have with the worse versions of yourself in the mirror, that there is a better person ready to be seen there and that you really can impact and change your own situation and help others while doing it, pursuing dreams written down and published (for me) or whatever yours may be.
Every writer has their struggles. Have you ever faced self-doubt or imposter syndrome, and if so, how do you push through?
D.L.H: It’s all about being able to look inside yourself and figure out what’s something you can grow from, and what’s something that’s really poisonous. There’s a piece I’ve written that’s in the new book. I’ve performed it live a couple of times, and I’ve always really enjoyed it. I like the rhythm. It’s called Zombie Feelings. The last few lines of it go:
“I killed a million zombie feelings.
I really hope they were all sick.
If not, that must make me genocidal against what I really think.”
I always think about that sometimes, you’re trying to kill off parts of yourself that actually matter. Like, take paranoia, for example. It can be so destructive, right? And I’m working on a collection right now that dives into that. We can talk more about that later. But yeah, paranoia can be disruptive. Still, five, ten thousand years ago, it was essential to survival. If we subscribe to the theory of evolution or even if we don’t, it’s come from somewhere.
So now I think a lot about whether those instincts still apply. Should they? Are they useful in modern life? That’s a big part of what I’m exploring in the books, and it’s something I hope readers take away too. Ask yourself, am I responding from a rational, grounded place? Or is this just old fear, old wiring acting up?
Like, is there an actual, present danger? I mean… yes, but not really. Not most of the time. Not in the way it used to be. So taking those moments to stop and breathe, to sit with the feeling, work through it, then come back and figure out what triggered it, that’s what I try to do. I’ll make a note of it. Try to track it. Build toward understanding it.
So yeah, I think in answering that, I’d say, this isn’t aimed just at men or women. I think maybe men might get more out of it, sure, but it’s not written for one over the other. It’s just an open, honest account. That’s what I’ve tried to keep through both books.
The first one, maybe that was more about the where’s and the why’s. About walking the path of full sobriety, which I hadn’t done since I was a teenager. Maybe even earlier. Taking that time, realizing I’d gotten things wrong. My partner moved out, I nearly lost everything again after just spending the ink, like, all the energy putting life back together. But even then, there were still things to clear. Still chaff that needed cutting.
I think that’s something I want readers to take away: there’s always room to grow. Reading can help with that. Self-reflection can help with that. And growth doesn’t always have to feel good. Sometimes growth is when you see something ugly in yourself, and you name it. You realize, I didn’t like how I acted that day. Or, I was sharp with someone for no reason. Or maybe you catch yourself talking badly about someone, and it just makes you feel gross. And then you have to sit with it and go, Right. That’s in me. That’s a trait I don’t like. But I can work on it. I can grow past it.
Ultimately, that’s where the writing comes from. That’s what I hope readers take from it. Real life. Real honesty. Maybe if you get to know yourself a little better, you can move through the world a little better too.
Which of your books challenged you the most to write, and what did you learn from the experience?
D.L.H: The first book I thought was the hardest to write. I was sharing pieces from a time when I was really uncomfortable, and when I wasn’t what I’d consider a good writer. I was opening up about very vulnerable things from a much earlier point in my life, all while being sober from alcohol for the first time. Really, for the first time in my life, for an extended period.
You know, we're British. We're raised on Carling. We're raised on lager. So part of it was overcoming that identity crisis. I still sometimes think about it, because I’m not always sure now either. But I am in a far better place, and that’s what I ultimately wanted from sobriety. I wanted to be a responsible person. I didn’t want to be someone who had to quit drinking out of desperation, like saying I can’t do this anymore. That doesn’t feel like having any control over who you are. I wanted to be able to apply some discipline.
Not to go on too much about it, but sobriety hasn’t been a straight line. Still, what I was dealing with during the first book was this deep feeling that I was a fraud. I was writing about real experiences, but it didn’t feel real to me, because I wasn’t used to being that person yet. It was still very new. It was still in my chest, still settling. And everyone around me, people I’ve known my whole life, was wondering how long is this going to last.
So there was already all this doubt around me. That, I think, was the hardest part, getting past that cloud of uncertainty. And I think every writer hits that at some point. This identity crisis. Like, am I even a writer. Is this worth reading? Does this matter to anyone else?
It’s like what you said earlier. When you’re writing about a first relationship, and then later you go back and reflect with more clarity. With time, you gain the ability to explain it more accurately because you’ve learned the lessons. You’ve grown from it. If you’d written it too soon, it might not have resonated. You might’ve missed something essential because you hadn’t processed it fully yet.
That’s how I feel about my first collection. I love it because it was the first one, and I put it out there. There are some really strong pieces in it. But personally, I’m much happier with the second one. When I look back at the first book now, all I can see is some of the fraud still lingering in there, and I can’t shake that feeling.
And like I’ve said before, I did the time. I did the work. I pulled it all together. I had support, sure, but I carried a lot of it myself. And yet that feeling of doubt still lingers. That’s what made the first book so hard, reconnecting with something I should be proud of. And I am proud of it, in some way. But the second collection, the whys and the wherefores, it feels more like me now.
The second book doesn’t just dive into the struggles or try to chronicle a certain time. It’s about understanding. It’s about the why behind things. The how. And I included a lot more pop culture in there too. Overall, I just enjoyed writing it more.
Now the third one, that one’s going to be tough.
What’s a fun or surprising fact about your writing process that most people wouldn’t expect?
D.L.H: I wrote the entire first book on a phone. No laptop or anything like that at first. When I finally did get access to one, it was old and completely knackered. The laptop I used had a German keyboard. I’d acquired it somehow, it was just one of those things you pick up when you’ve moved through different houses. It came from one of the various places I rented over the years. Not a house I owned, just somewhere I lived for a bit.
If you could sit down for coffee with any author, living or past, who would it be and what would you ask them?
D.L.H: Terry Pratchett—if I ever got the chance to write a book in the Discworld series, I absolutely would. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d never feel like I could truly do him justice. But hell, I’d give it a proper shot. I really would. I do plan to expand into fiction. I’ve written short stories, and I’ve got about 65,000 words into a novel I started years ago. It’s something I quietly chip away at. Slow going, but steady. Still, it’s Pratchett all day long for me. There’s just no one else like him.
What’s the best piece of writing advice you’ve ever received, and how has it shaped your journey?
D.L.H: Stephen King’s On Writing was super influential to me when I first started out. I used to read a lot of Stephen King when I was young, and always had another one of his books on the go. But in my opinion, one of his best was that hard, autobiographical, part-writer’s-advice book, On Writing. There, he said two things that really stuck with me: "You’ve got to kill your darlings," and "You’ve got to be prepared to do a certain amount of stuff for free."
Those two bits of advice have done me wonders. I’ll put my work in anywhere. Just getting published, whether it's big or small, pushes me to write more. It gets the writing out there, and once you’re involved in that process, you start to become part of the community. You get to experience other people’s writing, engage with other poets, and that builds this whole social movement. Poetry becomes not just your own personal expression but something bigger, something shared.
Can you give us a glimpse into your next project? Any exciting things on the horizon for your readers?
D.L.H: Husband Material, Volume Three is on the way, currently in the works. This one is a combination of mine and my father’s poetry. The working title, at the moment, is Like Father, Like Son? It’s a real deep dive into my childhood with him, first as an able-bodied man, and then after he had a stroke and was partially paralyzed, right through to when he passed away. As always, I’m exploring some really deep, gritty parts of those relationships.
The book will weave together both mine and his poetry. I’ll be including photos of his handwritten pieces, doing some blackout poetry using his words, and creating new work from his old work. This one will be a bit longer than my previous collections, probably around 35 to 40 poems, with an intermission or something similar in the middle.
Alongside that, I’ve just finished a chapbook called Loving Shorts—all love poetry, done in a very Northern style. It’s finished and ready. I’m also close to completing another chapbook, all based around paranoia and paranoid thoughts. I write a lot. I'm lucky that my brain won’t shut off. Some days that’s horrible, but some days it’s perfect. Pen, paper, a bit of cardboard, my phone, whatever I’ve got. I just get it out.
Without this form of expression, I honestly don’t know if I’d still be here. Writing has been such a crucial part of how I explore myself emotionally. People can tell you what you need to hear, things you need to learn—but no one knows more about you than you do. That’s a really important thing to remember. You're the one who knows yourself best. You can learn from how others see you, but don’t let anyone else define you. They usually get it wrong.
So yeah, that’s the takeaway, I guess: be yourself. Write in your own voice if you can. And if you haven’t found that voice yet, find one you like and start there.
