We Did It to Ourselves | Road Show Ends Tour of West; Soon to Go Abroad
We Did It to Ourselves --
(Page 1 Was So-o-o-o Short.)
it still was there.
The first draft was 45,321 words. After it had gathered dust a few years, Writer Hart added a few thousand words and came out with a second draft. This, too, cost postage two ways.
In the intervening years, the novel has been rewritten a dozen times. It got new chapters, new characters, new incidents. It got kind words from friends and publishers. But no covers.
Dr. Hart, we repeat, is a stubborn, persistent theta carrier. He was determined that his book would be printed, even though it no longer was the book he'd first written. And as a result, his postage bill got so large that Uncle Sam was able to build 179 atomic bombs and American Railway Express had enough money to buy out Wells-Fargo.
A writer friend of his borrowed the bound carbon copy of the first draft, and was so hilariously amused that the Rev. Hart took up Dianetics to run out his injuries. Instead, auditors pick-axed his Time Track, and discovered there had been a time when his was a name in the writing world to be reckoned with.
Dr. Hart, as we've said once or twice before, is a stubborn man. He's also persistent. And when he audited himself up to self-determinism, there was only one outcome possible: He'd publish the novel himself. And he did.
Harnessing his bride to a typewriter and a mimeograph, he waded in ink, stencils, and paper until SCRUB OAKS was no longer a dog-eared manuscript. There were 93,538 -- plus or minus -- words, and with all the decorations and doodads of publishing, there were 336 pages to be fed through that balky duplicator. After printing, they had to be checked, folded, collated, and the sections assembled. But we won, Maw, and now his weary wife can sit down and admire her successful writer-husband because he's had a book published. Now, the Rev. Mr. Dr. Writer Etc. Hart says, if he can only sell the blamed things, maybe they can pay off the mortgage and buy some cornmeal. His favorite food, he insists, is fried mush.
And that's what he'll have -- come Hades or flood -- because he's a stubborn man.
Road Show Ends Tour of West; Soon to Go Abroad
Taking its cue from the old-time "medicine show", Scientology has gone on the road.
Missing only is the bed of a truck, the gasoline torch, and the bottles of colored liquid "that will heal any ailment of man or beast" that are passed through the crowd.
The Scientology Road Show, which got its inception shortly after the June Conference in Phoenix, has just completed a successful test tour through Tucson, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Oakland, and San Diego. Made up of five auditors, the audience (which isn't corralled from passers-by on the street attracted by the noise) is given brief explanations of what Scientology is how it works, and group processing. A light, humorous slant is stressed to make the two-hour session entertaining as well as helpful and informative. Group or personal auditing can be arranged for those wanting to learn more or wanting help.
According to John Farrell, business manager for the group, not only are they stirring up interest among the general public but some Dianeticists and Scientologists are having their confidence and enthusiasm restored.
The group left Phoenix on August 9 for New York, booking appearances en route. According to the schedule, they are due in Enid on September 1 and in Wichita, Kas., the day following. After New York, Baltimore, and Washington, D.C., they will take the Road Show to England and South Africa.
Members of the group, in addition to Farrell, are Lee Burgess, Ted Otteson, Tam Owen Otteson, and Margaret Scholtze.