Leena Taylor-Gillespie

It’s called a letterbox for a reason While waiting for Book One; Doorway of Death, to return from a professional edit andcritique, I took feedback I’d received from a beta-reader and further developed one ofthe characters. Professor Peter Blackwell hails from the University of Oxford, a placeI am not familiar with. He required more research. I’ve since

All through winter a vibrantly-plumed kingfisher has visited our garden almost daily. Most mornings he sits on the bean-frame, plunging to catch an unwary insect before returning to his perch to gulp it down. Ever-vigilant, his bright eyes scan the garden; he doesn’t miss a thing. Once or twice he was accompanied by another kingfisher,

 I love to sew, particularly hand-sewing. Each stitch becomes a memory of that moment in time. I can look at something my hands have created and recall what was happening when it was made. Perhaps it was a conversation, a peaceful moment or a television programme.  My writing can be like that also. Each word

One of my superpowers is being able to see something in a shop that I am really attracted to, and not buy it. Then I get home and am filled with regrets. Of course, when I return, the special object has been purchased by a more discriminating shopper. Am I the only one who does this? This happened recently when

I’ve discovered that publishing a book does not finish with writing the darn thing. For a writer that’s the fun part. Now the ‘real’ work begins. So, while that process is slowly underway, with the help of a Very Clever friend, I thought to take a moment to reflect on my writing journey. They say – whoever

 It is still officially Winter, but there are a few flowers in the garden. Between showers, I wandered out with my scissors to find a small bunch to brighten my office. I love to have fragrant flowers nearby while I work. At first I couldn’t find many, and became distracted with dead-heading the daisies. That