Teedle Beauregard kills her husband one summer day in 1963. His accidental death is a terrible loss, people say, as he had best hair in Hot Springs, Arkansas. And some whisper it wasn’t an accident at all, because of where she shot him. (A penis is a small target, after all.) To escape the stigma, Teedle hops a bus to New Orleans where she soon gets hitched again, this
time to a man with even better hair. She marries him the day he drops a bag of gold and jewels on her kitchen table, saying it’s hers. Good hair and a good provider! Never mind he’s an octoroon. Never mind he’s a bagman for a Mafia boss, and the jewelry is probably hot. Her improved situation is short lived, however, as her new husband soon disappears, taking the jewelry with him. Now Teedle must get a job to pay the rent, but her only work experience
is cutting off chicken feet at a processing plant back in Arkansas. A mysterious neighbor comes to her rescue, setting her up as a fortuneteller. While this doesn’t jibe with Teedle’s First Baptist upbringing, she’s a natural at it and becomes known as the Roach Lady, reading the future in the entrails of squashed palmetto bugs. Before long her clientele includes that
Mafia boss. Under his threatening gaze, she’s unable to see anything at all, so she babbles, making up a story that will come horribly true, a story that will shock the nation.
You were going along right fine and then you put one too many feet in the chicken processor. You have to know when to quit in a description or it becomes the Tammy Faye of synopsis.
This isn't a hook, it's a rundown of the plot.
Get out the astringent and lose the glitter and try again.