The Perfect Lead

Many years ago, when I fancied myself as a writer and sent off articles to the local paper at least once a month, the new young editor there noticed, and invited me to the newspaper office to visit. As I was leaving, he fished around in his desk and brought out a little booklet: "How to Write the Perfect Lead". First lines are important, he said. You have to grab the reader's attention right away. He was just another kid. Just another bush leaguer. Just another wide-eyed, 18-year-old with a lump in his throat, a knot in his stomach and a dream in his heart.

Corny? A little. but it makes you want to read on. And today there was the "perfect lead", in an article on Michael Jackson, by Leonard Pitts of the Miami Herald:

"Once upon a time, there was a boy who channeled the gods. He invoked them through his feet, moving without friction across the gleam of a thousand stages."

It took me back, to young Michael singing "Ben", and the beautiful "Gone Too Soon", "Thriller" and "Billie Jean", wowing us with his rare talent. We'll miss you, Michael.

Do you have a shoebox full of little pieces of paper containing things that amused you when you read them, facts you need to look up someday, quotes that moved you? I do, and once in a while I fish around in there and find something like this, from a nature show about insects: "Being able to spray highly concentrated vinegar out your bottom is a great defense." Indeed.

A used-book sale coup: Last week I found all six installments of Stephen King's The Green Mile. Together. What's next? An encyclopedia without one volume missing? And today, while waiting for a bus, I looked up from my bench and discovered a new little antique shop. It's called Curiosity Cupboard, and sorry, mystery lovers, there were no killer gremlins or man-eating Venus flytraps inside, just some lovely antiques, at reasonable prices. My new Minimalist lifestyle won't let me buy anything, though. If I did, I'd have to throw something else away, like a ratty sweater or the binoculars that only work on one side. Baby steps. . .

See you next week!