makes me want to punch her in the face all the more. You exploited people, asshole.
I am with you. I've been raging this all day. A new definition of identity theft. And it makes all writers cringe.
Memoir = Things that Happened To You (the real you, not your idealized, stolen identity)
Nonfiction = careful study of things that happened to a real person (not you), with factual backup (that you didn't make up)
Fiction = Things that did not happen
easy enough, right?
What do you want? Human torch? Invisibility? Smashing really big things?
All of the above!
Edit: Does that make me The Invisible Human Torch Thing?
The editor, though. THREE FUCKING YEARS and you never verified any piece of this woman's story? THREE YEARS?
Particularly since authors lying about their horrific pasts have even made L&O storylines. If you can't be arsed to read the news, editor, can't you at least keep up with pop culture and learn to be suspicious?
Thinking about it, I sent a detailed contact list, one of my blurbs was written by one of my subjects, and I supplied links to actual conversations that took place along with a list of permissions granted by people I wrote about.
I wonder what sort of documentation Asshole provided.
I realize I am being all me me me.
How annoying.
I'm just busy trying to construct a horrific past for myself so I can get published.
it probably did not hurt that your agent knew some of us, right?
I gave my editor your number, did he call?
Nope. I could be a figment.
I'm just busy trying to construct a horrific past for myself so I can get published.
You were a book editor, Ginger. In STALINIST RUSSIA. And you published this book that was supposed to be a memoir, but it turned out to be total fiction. And you are the Princess Anistasia.
I'm just busy trying to construct a horrific past for myself so I can get published.
Well, when the James Frey thing broke, I was all grumbly because as a writer of historical fiction, I can't really fake a memoir. I mean, even the most credulous idiot won't believe I was alive in 1811...unless I'm the reincarnation of a Peninsular War camp follower writing a past life memoir.
Except now I'm writing an alternate history, so, uh...I'm channeling my past life spirits from an alternate universe? Think anyone will buy that?