Tell Me a Story

A brief note about the whole "uproar" over James Frey.

First, writers are born liars, especially when writing about themselves. We aren't journalists. We aren't historians. We tell stories, and never do we get the truth absolutely right. We have our own agenda, constantly, and if you think in our memoirs that you are getting the whole, unbiased story, we thank you again for your money.

Second, I like to think Frey pulled a fast one and exposed the whole Oprah "lets talk about our failures and redemption in 44 minutes" TV mindset for what it was. I like to also think that Frey pulled a Mike Judge, who used his Beavis and Butt-head to cleverly skewer the media that was paying him and making him an icon. I like to think that Frey used his 15 minutes of fame to point out to Oprah's viewers on Wisteria Lanes near and far that they should stop reading about someone else's "real life" pain as a spectator sport.

Or maybe he's just a massively fucked up guy who wanted to make something out of himself. So, he lied. He made entertaining lies, which were turned down by a group of publishers until someone at Doubleday got hungry for a smash hit and was willing to promote the shit out of a book that was not all together legit. Books don't get published by themselves. A lot of people turned off their bullshit detectors in exchange for a hit. A lot of people were willing to believe in Frey's story. What comes natural to us as meaning-seeking creatures who enjoy a well-told tale becomes doubly-easy when there's a truck load of cash involved.

And then came Oprah and her book club, who put aside their bullshit detectors to make room for Frey's tale of woe. It was an ideal fit for her nook of heart-aching life lessons and affirmations. No one questioned Frey, because Frey was a ready-made, a person who would make for great TV. He talked about his demons. He pimped his book. He made a great patient for America's favorite holistic cuddly life guru, Oprah. And Frey, he went along with the program. If he felt trapped by the lie, felt that steel noose of panic tighten around his neck, it didn't show. Maybe he knew this was going to unravel, and then he'd cash in on the scandal, proving through his genteel mask and forthcoming apology stunt that America loves a fallen icon who has tears in their scoundrel eyes.

Third, a part of me can't help thinking that Frey leaked the information as part of a viral campaign to promote his next book (see page 6 of TSG's report), perhaps about an author who cried wolf one too many times; about disposable amounts of sympathy by day-time TV hosts; about the public's need for a good story (or better yet, a story that makes them feel better about their own lives); and he better make his next book is a novel, because no one is going to believe another memoir by Frey again.