Hayter Family Newsletter

 

March 1, 2026

“Family Newsletter”

             The most important part of any article is the first paragraph. You need to  grab the reader from the beginning, or they’ll be turning to the comic section. The question before me right now is “Have I in any way whetted your interest?”

And if so, did the word “whetted” mean anything to you. It just came to me. After which I had to look up the spelling. Whetting? Right now, you may be reading the comic section or wondering how any of this could in any way interest you.

Well, let me try this out on you. One of the greatest beginnings of any book is “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity…” and it goes on for a few more minutes.

Had Charles Dickens left out the word “incredulity” in the beginning of the one sentence paragraph I might’ve stayed with him. But he couldn’t stop. He ended with these last words of the sentence. “for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.” I could see my ninth-grade English teacher telling me to check out “A Tale of Two Cities” and have a report on it in two weeks. I was never asked to the read the book, but I was curious enough to watch the movie. It was sadder than sad.

My personal favorite beginning of a novel reads like this: “If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it if you want to know the truth.” I’ve read the book twice. I’m still waiting for the “Catcher in the Rye” movie.

My first published book began with “I was teaching history and government at Montgomery High, a school just north of Houston and south of nowhere that sounds familiar.” Not nearly catchy enough for “the Summer of ’76.”

But the vast majority of writings are from my many articles now in The Villager and Conroe Courier. That’s what started this article. My sister Jill used to write “Our Family Newsletter” twice a month and send it out to everybody in the family. She started it back in January 1988 and kept it going until the end of ’99.

My kid sister’s toughest job was typing out each edition of her newsletter. She then went to the Post Office to make copies, front and back. Her second most troubling job was getting people to send her stories of family events to put in the newsletter. It was a bear. I’m surprised she kept it up that long.  That’s 288 editions.

A few months ago she began emailing us copies of the old newsletters. I pulled up two of the most recent emails, and pridefully looked at each of my articles that were included. I needed help to come up with a topic for this article, which is about the importance of the first sentence of any book, or article.

Virginia Pliler is my dear friend whose mother would read my article only if the beginning sentence interested her. There is no telling how few articles she ended up reading. But with that out of the way, let me read to you the first paragraph of my article from January 16, 1991. 

It reads: “Do you want to know who is actually running this country? Who is making the decisions on everything from what will be on TV at 7:30 Monday night, to who will be President of the U.S.? The real power in this country rests in the hands of a clouded, faceless group known as “Those Polled.”

If that paragraph was enough to hold anyone’s attention, the rest of the article would send them straight to the comics, because this was about the longest article I ever wrote. It was printed by “The Herald” which is possibly in another state.

In the other article I begin with: “When is the last time you read anything positive about a car salesman? For me the experience has yet to come. On a list of the most respected profession “car salesman” rated somewhere between carnival barker and pit bull trainer.” I would be surprised if The Villager and Courier didn’t receive a few Letters to the Editor over that piece.

            Lately I haven’t received a single gripe about my articles. I now receive them on                    emails. If email ever dies, I don’t know how future gripes will get to me. Surely, I’ll             be gone by that time. And before you say it, I’m sorry I called you Shirley.

end

            hayter.mark@gmail.com