I am not sure why this never posted. I believe I posted this quite a few years ago. But here it is. He has now written THREE books...Advertising Murder, Lost Youth, and Murder Express.
Once again, my Dad has been interviewed for a newspaper....I believe this is the second article, plus the radio interview, about his book.
I'm so proud of him. This is what the article says:
"John McKay/Times Colonist
[Pastor Bob Scott, the chaplain of the Langford Volunteer Fire Department, with his recently released novel, a book that’s noteworthy for an exciting plot written without profanity or gratuitous sex scenes.]
He believes in miracles
Mystery-writing chaplain encountered an answer to his prayers at a writers’ convention
BY LAUREL BERNARD
Bob Scott, a 60-year-old Langford resident, decided to write a mystery novel. He wrote it in a month, took it to a writers’ conference, got a 10-minute pitch interview with a New York publisher’s editorial director and, nine months later, had a three-book contract with royalties and a healthy advance cheque.
“It just amazes me that it happened the way it did,” Scott says. “I think I said, ‘Sure, thanks very much,’ and stood up, and the world just kind of started to spin.” How on earth, you ask, did he do it? It was easy, aspiring writers. All it took was a miracle.
Bob Scott, author of the just launched Advertising Murder from Avalon Books, is a former pastor of the Congregational Christian Churches in Canada and still preaches every Sunday at two seniors’ residences, West Shore Lodge and Alexander Mackie Lodge. He and his wife, Shirley, believe in the power of prayer.
They both prayed over the book project, especially when the manuscript was sent off to New York, although, as Bob Scott says, the prayer was more “your will be done, not a ‘give it to me.’ It always works for me.”
Initially, he says, “I wouldn’t say I was praying, ‘Dear Lord, make this a successful book.’ I was essentially going through the process to see what kind of suggestions I might get from an editor.” But Shirley certainly was praying “just for success” on the book, and Bob believes there’s a pattern in life.
I would say everything is part of the plan. I’ve been feeling it is part of the plan.”
Scott was born and raised in Montreal and, after getting a BA at what is now Concordia University, took his Master of Divinity at McGill. Three years after he became a minister, he went to a Billy Graham film.
“It made a change in my whole approach to my ministry and life and everything else. Over the course of the ministry from that period on — that would be 36 years this year — there were a number of things that took place in our lives that I would call miraculous.”
When he was living in Fernie, his son, then 18 months old, badly burned himself. He was hospitalized and doctors expected he’d have to endure many operations and skin grafts over the course of a long recovery. But five days later, after friends and his parents prayed and fasted, he was healing so quickly that the hospital was ready to send him home. He’s never had plastic surgery or skin grafts.
Then there was the operation Shirley was supposed to have. In the morning she was admitted into hospital and scheduled for surgery, but by day’s end, they’d sent her home. “The doctor said I was fine,” she says. Again, the Scotts and their friends had prayed for her to heal.
Bob, too, had a providential escape. One the reasons he started his book in 2003 was because he’d just received bad news: a bladder cancer diagnosis. It was discovered thanks to a mysterious and still undiagnosed infection, was treated and “within five months of the diagnosis, I was completely clean.” He’s been free of the disease for four years now.
Besides the power of prayer, you might argue the Scotts have also built up a lot of good karma. Shirley is a special-needs teacher’s aide at Pacific Christian School and, besides paid part-time work with Sands funeral services, Bob holds administrative positions with the Congregational Christian Churches in Canada and volunteers as secretary to the Colwood Rotary Club and chaplain to the Langford Volunteer Fire Department.
OK, but Advertising Murder’s success can’t have been that miraculous. Bob Scott probably spent years turning out manuscripts, sweating blood over each line.
Scott writes a monthly article in Ladder a fire department newsletter, and has written humour pieces and other short articles. AdvertisingMurder is his first full-length work. After writing it in a month, as a participant in National Novel Writing Month, he edited the manuscript during 2004’s National Novel Editing Month. He loves to write, loses himself in it:
“When I’m writing, I know I’ve got a manuscript that has to go out, but the excitement of seeing or feeling a story unfold … I go into another world.”
So he must have knocked on hundreds of publishers’ doors, right? And then he selected Avalon and honed his pitch to perfection.
In fact, Avalon was the first and only publisher he approached. He wrote his pitch to editorial director Erin Cartwright-Niumata on hotel notepaper the night before.
Then he probably has one of those careers designed for writing crime fiction. He can write about what he knows — just like John Grisham, who was once a lawyer, or Patricia Cornwell, who worked in forensic science.
Jack Elton, Advertising Murder’s hero, is an ex-cop. “My only police experience,” says Scott, “was in Expo 67. I was a security guard on the minirail at Montreal.”
What about Avalon? It sells to libraries and has editorial rules restricting drinking, profanity and sex in the 60 books per year they produce. The editing process was probably difficult.
“They’re a very easy company to work with,” Scott says. On his first book, the editing suggestions consisted of a single sheet read over the phone and then a few followup points. In any case, based on his own values, Scott is comfortable with Avalon’s approach — not that he chose Avalon because of it or wrote his mystery with a moral intent. It just happened to be a match made, well, in heaven.
At this point, the publication of Advertising Murder does begin to look like divine intervention. But don’t give up hope, because Scott’s story also exemplifies the axiom that God helps those who help themselves. Bob Scott worked hard at the project and made some very smart decisions.
For aspiring writers, here are some of his steps to success.
1. He joined the Crime Writers of Canada: “It was the best $100 I ever spent.” Besides all the resources on their website, the organization provided priceless publicity and contacts.
2. He signed up for the magazine Writer’s Digest, joined its book club and immersed himself in other writingrelated sites, listservs and research books. By the time he got to the pitch, he’d already read advice on how to do it.
3. He belongs to a writer’s group that meets weekly from September to June. Shirley read his manuscript, too, and, Scott says, “does a good job of pointing out basic errors” as well as helping with syntax and spelling.
4. He’s dedicated and has good work habits. Scott’s preferred writing time is midnight till 4 a.m. For example, on Wednesday he might write from midnight until 6 a.m. the next day, go to his Rotary meeting, come back, sleep a little, and then write in the evening. He feels comfortable if he’s written 2,000 words a day.
5. He goes to the annual Surrey International Writers’ Conference. Scott says it’s a standout among these types of events, and it’s where he pitched his manuscript.
6. He offered what an in-house editor wanted. He says of Cartwright-Niumata: “I’ve heard comments from her like, ‘Your stories are well written.’”
When she was asked about Scott, she sent back this message through her assistant Faith Black — and there’s hope in it for all aspiring writers:
“Erin met Bob at the Surrey writers’ conference in Vancouver, and they had a great meeting. Bob delivered a great pitch on his book, and Erin knew she wanted to work with him before even reading anything. It was a good, short pitch that reeled her in and got her interested in the project.
“If you write well and you submit properly (following the correct guidelines for submission), anyone can write for Avalon. We are always looking for new and first-time authors.”"
Those of you who have not yet read this book, and like a good murder mystery, I seriously urge you to find this first book and read it....it's funny, intriguing, just an all-round good read. I kept shaking my head every few chapters as I reminded myself that my FATHER had written this book. It was wonderful! I await his next two books with impatience, and hope he will have the opportunity to publish even more after that series is done.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
The Agony and the Ecstacy
Things have been a little crazy lately.
It started about 8 weeks ago, when Daughter missed a step and fell on the stairs in our house. Her foot hurt, but she just walked it off. The next morning, while delivering papers, she tripped again, and this time was not able to walk it off.
This started a series of visits to the doctor. Very frustrating ones. She had wrapped her ankle in a tensor bandage, and hopped around with crutches for a few days with no results. The first visit to the doctor brought x-rays. Nothing showed up, so we were told nothing was broken, go home, rest for a week, all would be fine.
A week went by. No improvement could be seen. So we went back. We were referred to have an ultrasound done. They thought maybe it could be torn tendons. They searched all over her foot, causing great pain, then called the radiologist in to do his own scan. Another full foot search, more pain, Mommy is about ready to pick her daughter up like the Hulk and walk out. Nothing. No sign of tendon damage. They say maybe torn ligaments, but ultrasound won't pick that up. They write a report for the doctor, and send us home. We wait to hear back from the doctor for further referrals and testing.
One week. No calls. She is now not only in pain in the one foot, but the OTHER foot is beginning to have issues. We figure it is because of her being on the crutches, and compensating, overloading the second foot. We go back. We demand to be referred to a specialist. He tells us he already did. We tell him, no, we saw the ultrasound people, they found nothing, so we need something else. He says no, they found nothing, so there is nothing. I push, he supposedly writes a new referral, and waves us out the door with both of us practically in tears of pain, frustration, or both.
We wait almost a week. Nothing.
Then she collapses. The pain is so bad she cannot stand at all, let alone walk or use crutches. Hubby takes her to the ER where someone finally takes the time to try to get her some help. She is referred to an orthopedist, but it will be another week. So we get moving and find ourselves a used wheelchair....Daughter is 5'1"and just over 100 pounds. She is not a child I can carry around, and also she needs to be able to go to school, finish the school year, though her sports at that point became a dream of the past. Too bad...she had trained hard over the winter to be a pitcher in softball this spring.
A week goes by, we return to the hospital for our appointment with the orthopedist. He is very nice, and proceeds to move Daughter's feet every which way, making her squeal out in pain and nearly burst into tears. He announces there is nothing physically wrong with her feet, and refers us to a pediatrician who is on his rounds. So we are moved to a different room and wait an hour. The pediatrician comes in, checks her over, asks questions, checks areas that weren't even near her feet (he checked those, too, though), and asks if we had any history of rheumatoid arthritis in the family!
At that time, I couldn't think of anyone, so I said no, but when I got home, I discovered that yes, there was one relative I had overlooked...a cousin of my father who had it quite severely, in fact, and had begun having issues with it when she was 20, confining her permanently to a wheelchair, and cutting her life short from complications in her 40's. Not what I wanted to hear.
In any case, the pediatrician gave us a prescription to reduce the inflammation and called for a dozen or more blood tests to confirm, and likely to rule out a few things as well, so we wheeled her down to the lab where they drained her of all her blood (it sure felt like it...it was a very large sample they took, in any case). We have an appointment for follow-up next Monday. He was sounding pretty certain that his diagnosis is correct.
I am trying to remain positive for my daughter. I am not a patient person, however. I keep asking her how her feet are feeling (she has been on the meds for 6 days), and she says they still hurt A LOT. They hurt a LITTLE less than before. Not they feel great, not they feel a lot better, and she isn't getting back to normal like I want her to. She can stand for a few minutes now, and she can walk around the house for maybe 5-10 minutes, but then she sinks to the ground and crawls for the rest of the day (our house is not wheelchair accessible, so at home she crawls, in public she is in the chair, though that has not been so easy of an experience, either, as she explains in her blog, http://accessibilityadventures.blogspot.ca/
On Sunday, she showed her true grit. We had signed up, several months ago, for a 5km run, as we have done every year for the past 3 years. Obviously, she was not going to be able to run. But the brochure said wheelchair participants welcome. So she went. And she rolled. And she pushed herself in that chair as best she could. We did that 5k. When her arms couldn't do it anymore, she would put her hands in her lap, and I would take over and push, while jogging, for a few minutes, until she was ready to roll herself again. She worked HARD on that 5k, over cracked pavement, around potholes, up and down little inclines, over crooked streets that made her chair constantly drift towards the sidewalks. We made it to the finish line in 47 minutes and 33 seconds. And she was cheered in by every participant that had finished before we did. And she was the ONLY wheelchair participant that day. I was so proud of her. SHE was so proud of her!
I have to give her credit. She has been so strong through all of this. It has been so frustrating for her. She had to bow out of this year's softball season, halfway through. She is missing a 3-day camping trip with her class at school because it is not at all wheelchair accessible. She may have to miss her Girl Guide camp next week, if she doesn't see massive improvement. Her teacher made her stay at school while the rest got to go see a magician at the other school, instead of asking if I'd come and drive her (If I had known she was going to be left behind, BELIEVE ME, I would have been there to drive her!). It is harder to get around, go places, do things, and the worst part of all is that children are CRUEL. The number of kids at school who have accused her of faking this is unbelievable. She has had her wheelchair pushed into walls (with her in it) by boys, has been sneered at, has been told to "just get up and walk".
I hope with every fibre of my being that, not only will she have a fast recovery, but the other kids will realize that this is for real, and that if she could get up and walk, she WOULD.
It started about 8 weeks ago, when Daughter missed a step and fell on the stairs in our house. Her foot hurt, but she just walked it off. The next morning, while delivering papers, she tripped again, and this time was not able to walk it off.
This started a series of visits to the doctor. Very frustrating ones. She had wrapped her ankle in a tensor bandage, and hopped around with crutches for a few days with no results. The first visit to the doctor brought x-rays. Nothing showed up, so we were told nothing was broken, go home, rest for a week, all would be fine.
A week went by. No improvement could be seen. So we went back. We were referred to have an ultrasound done. They thought maybe it could be torn tendons. They searched all over her foot, causing great pain, then called the radiologist in to do his own scan. Another full foot search, more pain, Mommy is about ready to pick her daughter up like the Hulk and walk out. Nothing. No sign of tendon damage. They say maybe torn ligaments, but ultrasound won't pick that up. They write a report for the doctor, and send us home. We wait to hear back from the doctor for further referrals and testing.
One week. No calls. She is now not only in pain in the one foot, but the OTHER foot is beginning to have issues. We figure it is because of her being on the crutches, and compensating, overloading the second foot. We go back. We demand to be referred to a specialist. He tells us he already did. We tell him, no, we saw the ultrasound people, they found nothing, so we need something else. He says no, they found nothing, so there is nothing. I push, he supposedly writes a new referral, and waves us out the door with both of us practically in tears of pain, frustration, or both.
We wait almost a week. Nothing.
Then she collapses. The pain is so bad she cannot stand at all, let alone walk or use crutches. Hubby takes her to the ER where someone finally takes the time to try to get her some help. She is referred to an orthopedist, but it will be another week. So we get moving and find ourselves a used wheelchair....Daughter is 5'1"and just over 100 pounds. She is not a child I can carry around, and also she needs to be able to go to school, finish the school year, though her sports at that point became a dream of the past. Too bad...she had trained hard over the winter to be a pitcher in softball this spring.
A week goes by, we return to the hospital for our appointment with the orthopedist. He is very nice, and proceeds to move Daughter's feet every which way, making her squeal out in pain and nearly burst into tears. He announces there is nothing physically wrong with her feet, and refers us to a pediatrician who is on his rounds. So we are moved to a different room and wait an hour. The pediatrician comes in, checks her over, asks questions, checks areas that weren't even near her feet (he checked those, too, though), and asks if we had any history of rheumatoid arthritis in the family!
At that time, I couldn't think of anyone, so I said no, but when I got home, I discovered that yes, there was one relative I had overlooked...a cousin of my father who had it quite severely, in fact, and had begun having issues with it when she was 20, confining her permanently to a wheelchair, and cutting her life short from complications in her 40's. Not what I wanted to hear.
In any case, the pediatrician gave us a prescription to reduce the inflammation and called for a dozen or more blood tests to confirm, and likely to rule out a few things as well, so we wheeled her down to the lab where they drained her of all her blood (it sure felt like it...it was a very large sample they took, in any case). We have an appointment for follow-up next Monday. He was sounding pretty certain that his diagnosis is correct.
I am trying to remain positive for my daughter. I am not a patient person, however. I keep asking her how her feet are feeling (she has been on the meds for 6 days), and she says they still hurt A LOT. They hurt a LITTLE less than before. Not they feel great, not they feel a lot better, and she isn't getting back to normal like I want her to. She can stand for a few minutes now, and she can walk around the house for maybe 5-10 minutes, but then she sinks to the ground and crawls for the rest of the day (our house is not wheelchair accessible, so at home she crawls, in public she is in the chair, though that has not been so easy of an experience, either, as she explains in her blog, http://accessibilityadventures.blogspot.ca/
On Sunday, she showed her true grit. We had signed up, several months ago, for a 5km run, as we have done every year for the past 3 years. Obviously, she was not going to be able to run. But the brochure said wheelchair participants welcome. So she went. And she rolled. And she pushed herself in that chair as best she could. We did that 5k. When her arms couldn't do it anymore, she would put her hands in her lap, and I would take over and push, while jogging, for a few minutes, until she was ready to roll herself again. She worked HARD on that 5k, over cracked pavement, around potholes, up and down little inclines, over crooked streets that made her chair constantly drift towards the sidewalks. We made it to the finish line in 47 minutes and 33 seconds. And she was cheered in by every participant that had finished before we did. And she was the ONLY wheelchair participant that day. I was so proud of her. SHE was so proud of her!
I have to give her credit. She has been so strong through all of this. It has been so frustrating for her. She had to bow out of this year's softball season, halfway through. She is missing a 3-day camping trip with her class at school because it is not at all wheelchair accessible. She may have to miss her Girl Guide camp next week, if she doesn't see massive improvement. Her teacher made her stay at school while the rest got to go see a magician at the other school, instead of asking if I'd come and drive her (If I had known she was going to be left behind, BELIEVE ME, I would have been there to drive her!). It is harder to get around, go places, do things, and the worst part of all is that children are CRUEL. The number of kids at school who have accused her of faking this is unbelievable. She has had her wheelchair pushed into walls (with her in it) by boys, has been sneered at, has been told to "just get up and walk".
I hope with every fibre of my being that, not only will she have a fast recovery, but the other kids will realize that this is for real, and that if she could get up and walk, she WOULD.
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