A Million Little Embarrassments

This whole James Frey thing is so surreal.

First, I only knew him as the strange senior who used to kick me in the bum when I was a freshman in high school everytime he walked by me in the hall and call out, Wi-ley in this nasal voice.

Then, 15 years later he comes out with this book about how he's a druggie--which wasn't terribly hard to believe because he did have the reputation for being a burner...so I bought that.

Then he ends up on Oprah's Book Club.

And now he's a national pariah because he made up a bunch of stuff--including embellishing the horrible train accident that happened when I was in 8th grade, which I'm embarrassed I didn't catch when I read it.

And the worst part is...I'm jealous. When will I write a book that will humiliate St. Joseph, MI? When do I get to be a pariah? We've only had two books written about it...neither of which were flattering, and both of which had embellished facts...both apparently published by Nan Talese.

Maybe I should stick with fiction. I'll just write a "memoir"...where, let's see...I'm a heroin-addicted prostitute with a heart of gold.