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Showing posts from August, 2008

Angel Falling Softly by Eugene Woodbury- Review

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By Shirley Bahlmann
Vampires are people, too, with feelings just like us.
Well, almost.
Who says they should just hang out in the dark, remote region of Transylvania? Why not the suburbs of Salt Lake City, where they can learn the art of being a good neighbor, pay fast offerings, make passes at return missionaries, and bring children back from the dead?
Why not?
I’ve had the chance to read reviews of “Angel Falling Softly,” both pro and con. I’ve had friends refuse to review it. I wondered whether I should, but in my musings, the prism turned, and I saw the story a little differently than I did at first.
When I began reading this book with the mesmerizing cover, it was hard to put down. No matter what I was doing, I felt drawn to it. I even saw a slender, white haired young lady jogging around town, and thought of Milada Daranyi. (Is that a cool name, or what?)
About halfway through my reading, I realized this book was no fence sitter. Either you liked it, or you didn’t. I know card carryin…

Happy Pink Shirt

by Shirley Bahlmann
In one single week I overheard three different people say what a wonderful Deseret Industries St. George, Utah had. "The best in the state," "the best in the country," "the best ANYWHERE."
So when I made the 4-hour drive to visit my son in St. George, I decided to visit the thrift store paved with gold. Hm. Well, it turns out is was not gold paved, gold gilded, or gold anything, unless you count the cheap paint on the velvet Elvis painting. In fact, it looked like a regular old DI to me; some trash, some treasures. I actually thought the one in Provo was better because it was bigger.
But then I started leafing through the racks, and I found a few treasures of my own. I always pick about thirty things to try on, and usually only 3 or 4 fit well enough to consider buying. I had a promising-looking pink t-shirt among my treasures, but when I put it on, the neckline plunged so low I was afraid it would end up in Antarctica.
"Mommy, t…

What a Way to Get A Job!

by Shirley Bahlmann
It's a curious thing... for the last couple of years, my husband, Bob, has aspired to work as Sports Editor for the local newspaper. He's an award winning sports writer, after all, and being the editor means he would have his hand in all of the sports. (Why he'd want to juggle basketballs, baseballs, volleyballs and footballs while kicking soccer balls is beyond me, but he seems to really like it.) He's talked to the owner more than once about hiring him, and she's always lamented that, although she'd love to have him on staff, money for his salary was a problem.
Then, yesterday, she left a cryptic message on our answering machine. "Bob, I need to talk to you about a couple of things. One is a story idea, and the other thing is bigger. Call me back."
When Bob finally got hold of her, she revealed that her current sports editor was caught breaking into the newspaper office, trying to steal money. When the police tested h…

A Happy Unexpected Boost

by Shirley Bahlmann
I was editing like a madwoman, holding my laptop on, well, my lap, while my youngest son was in bed. He was supposed to go to sleep, but seemed restless. (I've sat guard duty by his bedside ever since I found his older brother hiding beneath the bed wearing a glow-in-the-dark hockey mask, just waiting until I left to crawl out and scare the bejeebers out of his little brother.)
Okay, that's another post. My son flipped and flopped and sighed and moaned. Finally, he said, "Mom, will you read me a story?"
I really just wanted to keep writing, but he's only little for awhile. So on impulse I opened a new window and pulled up a novel I was halfway through writing before I started editing my son's book. I began reading out loud, and to my surprise, the first draft chapters flowed better than the single chapter I'd re-worked to death and sweated over before submitting to an editor for evaluation. That one chapter was stiff and cr…