by Leslie Lindsay So the other day, I was checking my phone for messages as I was at a stop-light.  I know, I know…not the safest thing to do.  I was alone, so as not to set a bad example to the little people in my life.  And in my defense, it was a really long light.  And I got a message from someone who doesn’t know me all that well, “You are a gifted writer,” it said (along with a few other things). Now, I am not one to brag.  In fact, I may be a member of the “self-deprecating humor club,” (SDHC).  I don’t toot my own horn very often; wouldn’t want to come across as a narcissistic weirdo, right?  So, I tend to downplay things I do well. It may be that I am infact, a good writer (see, there I go again).  Sure, I got good grades in English and my own parents said I was good at writing, but well–you know, that’s different.  But when my editor said I was a …