A Million Little Pieces... oh, how you have betrayed me so. Heartbroken and lied to, I don't think I'll ever read again! Oh me! Oh my! What travesties I've endured so innocently and unknowing... why cruel world have you done this to me?
Ok, so really do I feel as if my world is crumbling around me and everything I’ve ever known now falls into question? No. But, do I feel as if I’ve been taken advantage of and duped? Yeah, I do. Creative licensing comes to point when major plot lines are changed in a memoir, but do I feel as though James Frey needed a publicly televised spanking from Oprah? NO! Just because a few details in his book are not real doesn’t mean that it’s not a good book anymore or that he didn’t overcome a major battle with drug addiction. I will defend Frey because his book moved me in a way a lot of books never have, his humiliation, his grievances, his passion, his drive, his love, and his courage are what I loved, not that he hung out with a mobster at lunch and that he had an arrest in Ohio, or that he snorted glue.
Why make such a large extravaganza about his details when it was his story he put out there so bravely. When he submitted the piece to publishers as a fiction piece and was rejected several times over, he then submitted it as a memoir because for the most part, it was. I don’t feel as though James Frey has wronged me in any way—he has touched my heart and his novel, memoir or no, is still one of the best books I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.