While sorting through their father’s belongings, Janice and her sister discover childhood letters filled with humor, nostalgia, and love. From a misremembered poem about the joy of reading to a letter written during a 1971 school trip with her beloved Brownie 127 camera, these moments spark laughter and reflection. A touching reminder that even in loss, memories can lift our spirits and remind us of how deeply we were loved.
Esther runs the writing group I attend called Let's Write (Writers Bureau) and her support and advice on my writing is invaluable. This is her first children's novel which I believe will be so loved by kids (and their adults) that they will be waiting with excitement for the next Saffy adventure. The following is the book's blurb, Esther's bio, and where you can buy The Secret Dragon.
A little poem in honour of my late Dad who raced pigeons as a child, with his dad, and then bred medal winning show pigeons when I was a child
My writing group prompt was 'Christmas' and rather than re-hash something old, I decided to write a poem. This led to a little bit of memoir stuff including some photos.
This article was inspired when I was writing in response to a themed one on our favourite films. So, what is my favourite film? That’s such a tough question. I think it depends on my mood. I know I struggle these days for a film to hold my attention.
This is a creative non-fiction, historical piece I submitted to Writing Magazine’s ‘In the Spotlight’ section for subscribers. I was delighted when I saw my name (I used my single/married name - Janice Tyler-Johnson - as it was about Wat Tyler) in the Highly Commended shortlist of the August 2024 issue.
My first visit to the Ceredigion area of Wales was in the summer of 1976, the hottest summer ever, and even Wales had dried up. The rushing water of Cenarth Falls was non-existent, and there’s a photo of fifteen-year-old me sitting in a bridge floodwater hole over the arid ground.
Occasionally, I am inspired to write a poem. This one came to me at Porthallow Cove in Cornwall when I was sitting and listening to the waves on the rocks, while a gentle breeze wafted around me.
When I first started to think about writing about the surname, Tyler, my mind automatically went towards Wat Tyler.
This short piece earned me a runner-up place in a Writer’s Forum Flash Fiction competition.
