I could tell that the latest lying memoirist was just that - a lying memoirist. Nothing in her story made logical sense, the black foster family, the drug-dealing Blood member (forever), the preference to be in the dark corners of LA rather than in your cozy Oregon bungalow with your cute daughter (who, by the way, was supposedly the first white baby you had ever laid eyes on. So how is it possible that your editor did not pick anything up over the three year period that you worked together. Lazy? Perhaps. Too busy? Outrageous. Unprofessional? Probably. Whatever, the answer the editor and agent are at fault. Couldn’t these lying memoirists (and I mean the real liars, not the exagerators) just create a new genre or call it a novel based on truth (somebody’s truth)???
fionadog
Reading Fryer’s memoir presented some few questions for me as in how does one remember activities which occurred when one is unconscience. This was not advertised as a how-to nor a how-not-to-do read. The chances of my meeting Frey were slim and meeting Oprah, not at all. I find myself purposely avoiding “Oprah Books” these days after her treatment of Frey on her soul-cleasning show. Somehow, I felt duplicitous in her attack, but she was not speaking for me.
Oprah revealed her insecurity and “queen over everthing” persona With great respect for Elie Weisel, having taught about the Holocaust for many years, I noted that he has a more “updated” memoir, but I missed the show when Oprah explained to the audience how Mr. Weisel”s perceptions had changed over the years, thus accounting for the new edition of a memoir which has stood up for over 50 years. I neer held Oprah responsible for what she deemed an atrocious bit of some con game perpetrated by Mr. Fry. I do hold her responsible for her tirade against what she deemed an all out effort to damage her reputation…somehow Mrs. Gay Talese does not strike me as a schlepper.
I think the publishers have a responsibility to sell the truth. If they call it a novel, it should be fiction. If they call it a memoir, it should be the story of someone’s life. Isn’t that what they have research departments for? Fact-checking?
While working on my book regarding my experience with Hurricane Rita, which happened 16 or 17 days after Katrina, I added, up front, ” these are My memories. Mine, not yours. If you remenber it differently, write your own book. I am still not done with it and am looking for an agen/publisher, but if it never gets put out there, then that’s what is going to be the reality. At least,my story was scary and funny and uniqup. And my family will certainly never be the same for the experience. Say wht you have written up front. A well written book will always be a good book.
I agree with all to this point - it is a shared responsibility of the author and the publisher. In todays’ society of “sensation sells”, everyone is cutting corners, embellishing to make money and to be known. However, this is not just in the publishing industry…you can see it in the entertainment industry with “live life to the excess”, politicians saying one thing and behaving in another fashion (do I even need to go there!) and we wonder why our kids are confused!
Perhaps I’m beginning to show my age - “I’ve become my mother period of my” life, perhaps I have indeed become a little wisher, tarnished with some bumps and bruises or has society in it’s race for money, greed and immediate satisfaction finally taken the brakes off the run away train of mankind?
Wow! That is a tad depressing…sorry for getting off the track!
The reasons that publishers jump on amazing, sometimes incredible real life stories are myriad and can include; one-upmanship, prestige, Nobel Prize aspirations, oh, and MONEY. Sort of tongue-in-cheek though, I have been thinking that it would be a good idea that publishers put a disclaimer on all ‘non-fiction’ works, something like: “Fact finding pending; read and believe at own risk”, if they cannot do their homework before the book hits the shelves of the retailers. Personally, I am not a big non-fiction fan because I am so disappointed when the ‘truth’ does not bear out; I prefer fiction without pretense but clear intention.
Look, the bottom line here is that all of these exposed authors have friends, family who know the truth and even if they have ghost writers or use alter egos the fact checkers or whoever, shouldn’t have that much of a problem checking the authenticity of the data. Yes publishers are culpable and need to get with the new technology (Google anyone?) and check these people out. The oher question I have is that mostly these are great stories, why don’t the authors just call it fiction and get on with it?
I think a large part of the reason this keeps on happening is that we seem to be living in one giant confessional. It is impossible to turn on the TV — or, these days, to go into a bookstore — and not find someone who is baring their soul. Or pretending to. There’s Oprah, the uber-empathizer, or Doctor Phil, or – these days — half the folks on the network nighttime news shows. They’re all trying to pull out everyone’s deepest, darkest feelings…or just their inner dirt.
One of Katie Couric’s supposed early coups was scoring an interview with the "runaway bride" of a year or so ago. My constant reaction is "who cares?" (and i really felt it about that poor, pop-eyed crazy woman), but apparently a whole lot of people do. And now I think all this confessional business has become so much a part of the zeitgeist that everybody feels the need to publicly emote — to heighten their experiences, to dig deeper, give us more…even if it ain’t necessarily so. Thus, you have Tom Cruise jumping up and down on Oprah’s couch like a full-blown lunatic, or James Frey spinning a few hours in jail several months. Maybe it felt that way, so what the hell.
In the case of the "memoirists," all of them are obviously talented enough to write a pretty good novel if they can so easily fabricate an existence that respected reviewers find "authentic" and "searing." but why should they bother when the public seems to want the gut-wrenching, soul-baring confessional? They are following the money, and their publishers are too.
The American public has an insatiable “need” to “know” all about everyone, especially celebrities. My college students can tell me every aspect of Lindsay’s rehab wardrobe or Britney’s latest nudie expose or their favorite rock star’s latest drug arrest. They know who’s sleeping with whom and who they’re actually married to. They know who’s the real father and they know how much money an actor makes for a particular picture.
What they DON’T know are the names of scientists, philanthropists, discoverers, the janitors at the college, the receptionist, the nurses who saved their mother’s life, or authors who don’t write for Harlequin.
There is big money in the checkout counter tabloids, and it’s made with lies, scandals, innuendo, LaToya Jackson’s predictions, and the concept that “she might be a celebrity; she might be richer than me, prettier than me, etc, but in the long run, she and I are ALIKE because she can’t keep a man, stay sober, or control her kids any better than I can.”
There’s money in promoting that. BIG money.
Is the author telling the whole truth? Publishers don’t really care, as long as the money keeps rolling in.
Is this reprehensible? Maybe, but I believe it is the responsibility of the American public to make sure we are educated and intelligent enough to be discerning. Their job is to polish a product and sell it. Our job is to know the difference between biography and bullshit. It’s difficult sometimes, because we don’t always know the difference in our own lives.
I often wonder if this and things like this has always been happening perhaps not as much as now with the society we have created, but people are people. We have always had lyars, cheaters criminals, so now, with the internet and technology we just find out about it. I think when we find out about these kinds of things and because it is so publised it forces us to think how bad people are and gives us a grim or grimmer opinion of what our society is really like. I don’t think it is as bad or that much worse then it ever has been. The older I get, I am 52 now, the more hope I see in people and especially women. It amazes me how women continually step up to the plate.
memoirs will always be colored by the writers perspective of the truth a—as are all “conversations -but outright lies are inexcusable in the field and should not be brushed over
fiction is an open avenue for any one who has a point to make-yes publishers are responsible for what they print
Beyond lack of fact-checking, it’s easy to believe any awful thing people will do to themselves and each other. Otherwise, it is a market of misery, where the author presenting the most desperate tale gets the big book deal, best-selling status, and attention of the afternoon talk shows.
As for why authors think they can get away with it, I’m not entirely sure that they do. My highly cynical self says that greed takes over. The not-so-cynical part ponders the possibility that terminology in literature muddied the waters a bit. Memoirs can also be called creative nonfiction, and many writers stick with that first term while forgetting the second.
I think almost everything is fiction. The publishers want to give authenticity to a story that has bathos,tragedy, etc. And it’s good for sales in a declining marketplace. Frankly if the book is good and keeps me amused or enthralled, who cares? Oprah was self righteous and overbearingly accusatory. I liked her less. Now for many other reasons, I like her not at all. Authors take license all the time, but I think it probably matters when someone fibs their bio as real rather than fictional. Some of the real bios around are actually boring and predictable, so perhaps a bit of fiction could help.
How does a woman as smart as Peggy Noonan arrive at an egregious over-generalization such as this one, “Now American fiction is…thin, removed from life, full of pose, full of abstractions that have a lot to do with the author’s mind and little to do with the readers’” while speaking about a genre she admittedly stopped reading 20 years ago?
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I think a large part of the reason this keeps on happening is that we seem to be living in one giant confessional. It is impossible to turn on the TV — or, these days, to go into a bookstore — and not find someone who is baring their soul. Or pretending to. There’s Oprah, the uber-empathizer, or Doctor Phil, or – these days — half the folks on the network nighttime news shows. They’re all trying to pull out everyone’s deepest, darkest feelings…or just their inner dirt.
One of Katie Couric’s supposed early coups was scoring an interview with the "runaway bride" of a year or so ago. My constant reaction is "who cares?" (and i really felt it about that poor, pop-eyed crazy woman), but apparently a whole lot of people do. And now I think all this confessional business has become so much a part of the zeitgeist that everybody feels the need to publicly emote — to heighten their experiences, to dig deeper, give us more…even if it ain’t necessarily so. Thus, you have Tom Cruise jumping up and down on Oprah’s couch like a full-blown lunatic, or James Frey spinning a few hours in jail several months. Maybe it felt that way, so what the hell.
In the case of the "memoirists," all of them are obviously talented enough to write a pretty good novel if they can so easily fabricate an existence that respected reviewers find "authentic" and "searing." but why should they bother when the public seems to want the gut-wrenching, soul-baring confessional? They are following the money, and their publishers are too.