A Theory of Newsletters

When Bill Halls (of the Flint Muddler Minnows) asked me to write an article for the first issue of their newsletter (The Bent Hook), I initially demurred citing lack of time, the imminent beginning of fishing season, the lack of flies in my vest boxes, and the need to fill them.

I also confessed the need to catch up on my reading and correspondence, a strong tendency toward laziness, and a potent compulsion to head south and get out of the lousy early spring weather we were then having.

But Bill is a tenacious SOB, an affliction of all ex-marines.

When he suggested the subject I should address (what should a newsletter be, what should a newsletter do) I frantically searched for even more compelling reasons, like my frequent memory lapses, the recurrent writer's block which keeps any rational thought that might occasionally reside in my brain from reaching my hand, the intense yearning to head for Montana and the early spring caddis hatches, the urgent call I got from the President telling me I was needed in Washington to help explain Whitewater, the offer from Ernie Schweibert to explore the fall fishing in Tierra del Fuego (it is fall there, isn't it?), the temptation to fish the wonderful trout streams in Yugoslavia with my friend, Crazy Carl (I haven't heard from him since he left six weeks ago), and the serious invitation from my brother to come to Ireland and test the salmon and trout waters there.

I couldn't tell Bill I had never thought about what a newsletter should be, or about what a newsletter should do. Could I? I couldn't tell him that upon reflection I hadn't the vaguest idea. That would certainly diminish my credibility; the Anglers' board of directors would politely ask me to retire, I would refuse, they would then fire me and then go searching for someone who had the answers.

So after some serious thinking - and drinking - I decided I had better write something. I had better come up with a philosophy of a newsletter, at least a theory of newsletters as expressed by our quarterly epistle with some indication of how we practice that theory. What follows, for better or worse, is this theory, produced with the aid of a Wild Turkey (some may think that appropriate); it is best explained in the context of The Anglers' newsletter, The Riverwatch.

First, a newsletter should give the news. Even I knew that. But what news, how much news? And, more important, what kind of news?

In The Anglers' newsletter we normally restrict our interest to the issues affecting the Au Sable (and the upper Manistee). Since we are carrying a heavy load of environmental, social, and political luggage, such as Camp Grayling, hydro relicensing, Antrim gas development, river restoration, and river user conflicts (especially fishermen versus canoes), we are not lacking in matters that should be reported on.

Because our organization has but one meeting a year (our annual meeting is usually coincidental with a major hatch on the Au Sable) we soon realized our newsletter was the glue that held us together. (The organization's business is conducted by committees and through board meetings held six times a year.)

Though our members, scattered through many states and even in foreign countries, have a common bond - the Au Sable River and fly fishing - something more was needed to keep us together and make us effective as a group.

Our newsletter, in good times and bad, is that something; it is intended to provide a bond when we are away from the river, keep us together, keep us focused, and to help us "protect the river, its watershed, and its environs for future generations.""

If we reported only the news, and the actions the officers and board have taken or are about to take on behalf of the members, the newsletter would run the risk of becoming too serious, and boring; ho-hum, more news, some good, mostly bad, ho-hum. So we include stories about the river, the riverine environment, and the animals and birds who share this beautiful area with us. We often have guest writers who entertain, inform, and are a pleasure to read, and we look for poetry relevant to the river, addressing its pleasures and meaning. We also have some have some very good art, such as that from Hanka, Crossman, and Dabrowski, and we will try just about anything that would help the newsletter sparkle and be enjoyable for our readers.

Our newsletter is also a weapon in our fight for a better river and a cleaner environment. We send hundreds of copies to non-members: state legislators, U.S. congressmen, other politicians, DNR officials, writers, reporters and other media persons, and anyone we think should know what is happening and what we are trying to do.

Our newsletter is as much directed to those outside our membership as it is to our members. This is necessary to focus attention on the serious issues affecting the future of our river. You need to preach to the heathen more than the converted.

While the Au Sable River enjoys the attention of probably too many anglers, our organization has not yet recruited all Au Sable fishermen. Thus the newsletter becomes a tool to first attract those fishermen and then to enlist them in the cause.

The purpose of our newsletter is not merely to inform, to entertain, to connect our members when they are away from the river, to solicit support for our cause, and to attract new members. Though all these are highly worthwhile, we also wish to incite. We want to provoke, to motivate our members, and to arouse others who love this river to take actions that will ultimately lead to better protection. If we keep our readers informed, if we entertain them, if we continue to attract new members, if we do all these things, and more, but in turn they are not moved to action, we will then have failed.

In summary, a theory of newsletters, from my point of view, is relatively simple. A newsletter must first be informative; it should advise its readers as to what it is all about, provide proper notification of important events, and, occasionally, it must instruct. The newsletter must go further and help bind its readers to a larger cause, to the success of the group, to secure the attention of the members and hopefully to help connect them. In order to do that, the newsletter must often entertain, give its readers a treat now and then, not be too serious, try never to be boring, and it must always give and be of good cheer. When the group engages in larger causes the newsletter is the voice of arousal and persuasion, it must sway those on the sidelines, convince those in the fight to stay, and help influence others.

So you see, the theory of newsletters is simple. I was surprised to see how simple it was. It is the practice that is difficult. It is in the practice where we fall short of theory.

The above appeared in the first issue of The Bent Hook. If you would like to receive future issues of this fine newsletter, and become a member of The Flint Muddler Minnows, you should write Dr. William Halls, 1289 N. Seymour Road, Flushing, MI 48433. Membership categories include: Student (Free), Annual ($10), Life ($50), and Sponsor ($100).

RWOL

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