This may be the longest You Tell Me in history, but here goes:
What should be done about all of these fake memoirs?
Let that question percolate a little, and then let’s see if your opinion changes by the end of this post.
I’ve been trying to process the news about two more fake memoirs surfacing, one by Misha Difonseca, who admitted that her memoir about her alleged Holocaust escape was fiction, and now Margaret Seltzer (writing as Margaret B. Jones), who concocted a story about growing up in South Central Los Angeles as a half-white/half-Native American gang member (she is white and grew up in Sherman Oaks). These fabrications, of course, follow closely on the heels of the J.T. Leroy and James Frey scandals (NYTBR blog roundup of these four here), and amid investigations by The Australian questioning elements of Ishmael Beah’s memoir A LONG WAY GONE.
My first reaction is, of course, outrage that people could actually go through with these shenanigans, and resignation to the fact that the publishing industry will go through another round of beatdowns in the press and in public opinion. But after these initial reactions wore off, I’m left in a bit of a muddle. What really, should be done about this?
First off, as Michael Cader pointed out in Publishers Lunch today, I don’t think people are giving enough credit to Riverhead and editor Sarah McGrath for heading this matter off before the book was published. According to today’s NY Times article by Motoko Rich, knowing full well what happened in the Frey case, McGrath asked for (and received) several different pieces of corroborating evidence that backed up Seltzer’s story. Seltzer’s agent met with someone who claimed to be Seltzer’s foster sister. McGrath and her agent did not turn a blind eye to Seltzer’s fabrications and she did a more than cursory check, it just turned out that Seltzer had a whole lot more time to fake the truth than McGrath did to investigate it. Once the truth came to light, McGrath and Riverhead acted responsibly. I can’t fault them on this. The book was never published and no one bought it.
But fine, so you might say, the editor did what she could do without becoming a full-on investigative reporter. So why don’t publishers employ fact-checkers?
It’s complicated. As Ross Douthat points out, the Atlantic fact-checks their articles, as does the New Yorker. But for the Atlantic this amounts to checking about 600,000 words per year. That’s a holiday weekend in the publishing industry. It would take an army of fact-checkers even to do cursory checks of the millions of words published every year, it would be a tremendous expense, and that expense would inevitably drive up the price of books, reduce already slim margins…. I mean, are you willing to pay a lot more for a book just to root out a few bad apples?
One of the lesser-known (at least to outsiders) portions of a publishing contract is the warranty and indemnity clause. In nearly every publishing contract, the author has to warrant (i.e. promise) that they are the real author, that they have the ability to enter into the agreement, and usually when it’s a work of nonfiction, they have to pledge that what they have written is true and based on sound research. If a court rules that the author has broken this warranty they’re on the hook. Completely. It can seem onerous to the author to be on the hook like this and we agents negotiate the clause so that it’s as fair as possible, but ultimately it’s on them to tell the truth. And really, isn’t this how it should be?
Another lesser-known component of memoir writing is that, from a legal standpoint, sometimes the truth HAS to be fudged to avoid defaming people, such as removing identifying details and changing names, so that the person in question can’t point to the memoir and definitively identify themselves. Far from being a genre that is (or should be) held to journalistic standards, memoir is, and always has been, inherently a very squishy medium.
If anything, isn’t this is all a byproduct of the drive by publishers, and in our culture in general, to want an author to be the “perfect package?” Someone whose life story is just as compelling as their work, who isn’t just someone with a skill for words but someone who embodies their own work, this whole brand thing. We as a culture have become obsessed with authenticity — it’s not enough to just be talented, you also have to BE compelling. You can’t just write a good book, you need to be able to sit down on a talk show host’s couch and talk about your own human interest story, even if you’re a novelist. The fabulists are just filling a cultural niche that we’ve created and which is nearly impossible to fill. It’s so ironic that the more we as a culture want a great true story the more pressure there is to fake one.
Sure — it’s fun to pile on the publishers, but what really should be done about this? Should publishers bite the bullet, raise the prices on their books, employ fact-checkers and just hope that people will pay more for books when there is already incredible downward pressure on prices? Should we just treat these people as the outliers that they are, a few mistakes in an industry where thousands of books are published every year and live with a few embarrassments? Whatever the answer may be, it’s not an easy one.
So now you tell me: what should be done about the fake memoirs?
benwah says
Morgan: I was shopping a first-person non-fiction manuscript (not strict memoir, as I wasn’t the focus, but falls under the same umbrella) a few years ago when the James Frey fiasco broke. Several agents told me to try back in a year or so as they were skittish of the genre at the moment. As you put it, the water in the pool’s getting warm and green.
superwench83 says
I think the best way to stop fake memoirs in the future is to make a huge deal about the recent slew of them. Let the authors who fabricated these lies be ridiculed, despised, scorned to the point that they’re afraid to leave their homes for fear of facing humiliation. And then make sure that everyone knows of the humiliation they feel. I think this will deter other would-be fake memoirists. They’ll realize how bad things will be if they get caught and be too afriad to risk it.
This probably sounds harsh, but I’m sorry; these authors deliberately deceived people in a horrible way. When I read the article about Seltzer, I was most outraged by the fact that in her “apology,” she seemed like she was saying, “I didn’t know I was doing wrong.” That’s bullcrap. She faked not only the memoir, but the evidence she thought might condemn her. Obviously, she knew exactly what she was doing. She deserves all the ridicule she gets.
Regarding comments I’ve read here that say all memoir is fake in a way, because authors can’t remember conversations and certain details after all those years have passed…. Personally, I feel that there’s a difference. When I pick up a memoir (which I don’t very often), I go into it knowing that the conversations will be written differently than the way they actually happened. I feel that this is quite different than saying that you’re a half-Indian former gang member when in fact you are not.
sruble says
There’s a big difference between changing a few names to protect yourself and the people you are writing about, and completely fabricating the whole thing.
I don’t know what needs to happen, but maybe the memoir category needs to be redefined or broken into NF memoirs and Fiction memoirs.
BTW, I was going to say they should add “based on a true story” to all memoirs until Nathan’s comment about Fargo.
I think it will be interesting to see what happens with the memoir genre.
Anonymous says
And WHAT about ghost writers????
I mean, “THE PUBLIC” thinks that the “EXPERT” wrote the damn book, but the truth is, they are written, day and night, by ghost writers and not by the EXPERTS and I have the ghost writer friends (not that I approve, but it pays their bills) to prove it.
Just curious, but while we’re on our high horses…
LindaBudz says
If only all editors could have Gus’ instincts. Of course, there’d probably always be a Klebanow in the wings, waiting to overrule their caution for the sake of publishing sexy stories. (That should be one bright spot this week … Gus may be vindicated.)
Lorelei says
Agents, more than just about anybody else, know that there are crazy people out there. People with a rather casual attachment to reality. Agents also know the desperation of people chasing a lifelong dream. So when a memoir comes in the door that seems too good to be true, alarm bells should go off. Agents are the first line of defense for the publishing industry. They have got to be suspicious of everything they read, not see what they want to see.
Editors look for memoirs that are over-the-top. You don’t have to attend many conferences and listen to many agents and editors to realize that. An interesting life isn’t enough. You need to have experienced something that will get you on the talk shows or NPR or newspapers. That’s what sold this book. It wasn’t the writing– they spent three years in the editorial process trying to peel the rind off the manuscript. Early on, the desire for this crazy story overwhelmed everybody’s better judgement. After all that time and money, how closely were they going to check? Not very.
Those two drives made this happen. If it hadn’t been this lying/crazy writer, it would have been someone else.
Anonymous says
Let’s get him!
It’s (who did you say was the guy to blame, Nahan???)
…all his fault!
Mindful Mom says
I think by the time that something is done to curtail those who fabricate their memoirs, the trend, memoirs, will be on its way out. Maybe by next year, the public will be eager for a different genre–something fiction related.
TransformingPeople says
As human beings, we are four times as likely to remember something bad as we are something good… which is why you choose to focus on the bogus memoirs over the ones that are true.
I think, being practical, that you should just ignore them like the nonsense they are… acknowledging that they make a great newspaper story and get people buzzing. However, if you were a mathematician and not a publisher, you would be focussing on the hundreds that are authentic.
To think that publishing should be immune from conmen is dare I day possibly naive.
Anonymous says
Look, I can’t help but say this:
Andy Warhol.
HE was a fake. AND he was real.
He hired people to manufacture his artwork and then sold them like originals.
And then boasted about it and called that manufacturing “art.”
And there are photographers who took pictures of other photographers’ works and called it original because, technically, it was an original photograph.
In Postmodernism, it gets bizarre out there.
Tell me, then, what defines postmodern ethical?
jerzegurl says
Kudos to Sarah McGrath who at checked out all that she could. That should be all that publishers are expected to do.
Is it possible to put a clause in a memoir contract that if there is fraud involved the writer could be sued?
Maybe if the phoney memoirs writers had to pay for false memoirs it would set an example.
Anonymous says
Gee, don’t you think that making memoir writers submit to a background check would take care of this?
Cam says
One of the best things about being a writer is the freedom we have to “make stuff up,” provided we don’t claim fiction is the truth. I actually got my newspaper to print the following article during the James Frey controversy… Not only is the entire article a crock of you-know-what, but it ended up being one of my best in three years, from readers’ perspectives. Fortunately, readers were bright enough to know it was a gag… Then just last month this article became the inspiration for a new fiction project (Read: FICTION). You’re right Nathan, et al: The onus is on the author.
For a 550 word chuckle on the topic, check it out:
https://www.cameronsullivan.net/012706PL.html
Cheers-
Cam
Jackie says
is anyone out there in cyberland???
Therese Walsh says
Okay, I used to work as a researcher and fact checker for Prevention Magazine. Every single article in that magazine was checked on a monthly basis and it still retailed for $2.49 per issue. Would it really mean an increase in the cover price of a memoir to have someone take a few hours out of their day to make a call or two to verify claims by an author? Sorry, but I don’t buy it.
Another thing that irks me: Why don’t these authors just call their works FICTION? Is there such shame in it? C’mon, people.
Just_Me says
Skip the fact checkers and add some PR to “fictional memoirs”. Raising prices won’t encourage me to read memoirs, I don’t like them enough to buy them already. But a fictionalized life, that’s a different genre and it’s still a genre that sells well.
As for the authors who lied…. Is blacklisting to harsh? Maybe tar and feathering them? Or maybe making them sit through high school English until they understand the difference betweem fiction and non-fiction? To give them fair due, they wrote good books, they just labeled them wrong.
Stephe says
I didn’t buy Frey’s novel because my sister-in-law already had it and was gushing over it a la Oprah with the rest of the world, so I simply read hers. At the time, I was struggling to polish my own fiction and get a foot in the publishing door, and I thought Man, if only I had a good memoir in me too… You know, that I’m truly glad for another fellow writer to make it, but I wish it was me syndrome.
To find out he’d lied really pissed me off for a good minute. Yet another person getting a break they didn’t deserve, and probably taking that break from someone else.
I don’t know that there’s anything that can be done about this fake memoir craze. People are just too inventive; there will always be yet another way to get around the fact checkers. I can only take a personal stand in my teeny piece of the world. I haven’t bought a memoir since before Frey; I have no intentions of ever buying one again.
It won’t be that difficult, believe me.
(with the exception of a homeboy makes it to the top memoir by some dude named Nathan Bransford 😉
Erik says
Several problems here:
First of all, wanda is, as usual, spot on. I heard the interview this woman gave, and her fake accent is nothing less than appalling. Many other people caught this over the weekend on the site it was posted, so it’s not just me. There were red flags all over this.
Second, this was elaborate enough to be called one thing – a con. Like all victims of a con, they believed the lies because they wanted to. You want to stop the cons? You have to figure out why people are so desperate to believe. The main issue is an utter lack of street.
Lastly, the real problem here is that you can pitch nothing more than an idea and an outline for a non-fiction book but fiction requires you to finish the work and then laboriously shop it around. There is a tremendous incentive to call whatever you have in mind a “memoir”. The industry has very bad incentives built into it.
So, what to change? Get people with some sense of reality, or who at least know their own limits, and change the incentives that are screwed up. That’s my pitch.
Anonymous says
I wonder why writers with enough gusto and imagination to come up with what is essentially a great plot line don’t just put it in a novel? Reading a novel loosely based on a person’s life seems like an easier option anyway (and I think the author would breathe easier trying not to keep up a lie). I think it’s weirdly interesting when a person dreams up that much life. I wonder if almost everyone has done it to a point, maybe? You take something that is real, replace some of the foggy details, and you sell it to yourself so well it becomes the new “memory”. Not saying it’s a good thing or that those authors are off the hook (I’m glad their projects were pulled), but still. In the time it took one writer to craft a lie she could have had a cool piece of fiction.
Anonymous says
I can’t imagine how a person could lie so easily and readily. It is plain wrong, and I don’t support anyone doing it.
However, why does it matter so much to the people who read the memoir? If it was an interesting and entertaining story, why does it make any difference whether or not it was a true story? How does it being true affect the enjoyment of it? I’m sure these fake memoirs made people think about different lifestyles and the pain/circumstances that others face, just as much as they would have if they were true stories. Why are people so upset, really? I can’t imagine people suing over it. How have they been harmed? They thought something was a true story and it wasn’t – that happens all over the place, not in memoirs, but in life. Watch the news and see how the events of situations change all the time. Did these people donate money or give money to causes or the author because of the books (other than by buying the book)? Where is the damage to the readers? Many of the events in these fake memoirs are the types of things that have happened to actual people.
I don’t read memoirs for the most part – the occassional memoir of an already famous person who has done something amazing and I want to know more about his/her journey to that event…other than that, it’s not a big pull for me. It does not make a story more interesting to me. I really don’t see what the draw to memoirs is anyway.
Anonymous says
Since the story was so over-the-top and set in the wilds of druggie-ville, wouldn’t ya think that perhaps, maybe, just maybe, at one time or another, there may have been some POLICE RECORDS about some little girl caught in the middle of a gang war? Or was all this happening in the clouds somewhere, ya think? Why on earth *would* this story even be plausible? Anyway, I think that not checking out Seltzer’s story was just plain dumb, especially on her agent’s part. I don’t feel sorry for her agent at all, but I do feel for the editor because she was sold a bill of bad goods.
Nathan Bransford says
anon@9:58-
Do you know how to check police records? I sure don’t. And what if the author said they’d never been arrested? You would check the records in the LA area anyway?
Believe me — I try and do my due diligence, checking up on claims authors make to me. But I’m also not a professional private investigator.
The agent met with someone pretending to be the author’s foster sister. I mean… when the author is taking it to that level I’m guessing a whoooole lot of us would have gotten taken in. Maybe the BS meter was in the shop, but I really can’t easily pass judgments on this one.
leesmiley says
I think what will happen is what happens in all business rocked by scandal: the least amount possible so that business can continue. The onus will fall to the writers of memiors, making it hard to get one published. The only thing that might be more difficult will be a memior about a vampire.
If publishers and agents are expected to check the backgrounds of every memior they accept, the obvious answer is that few memiors will hit the shelves.
Other Lisa says
I don’t know what to do about fake memoirs – though I’m really astounded that people are still putting them out. But I do know that combining fact and fiction can be very problematic legally.
I used to do errors and omissions insurance research for films and television – basically anything that airs theatrically/on the tee-vee has to have insurance against certain kinds of lawsuits. For example, fictionalization of names of real people does not necessarily protect a literary property from litigation. If people can be identified in a text, they can sue if they don’t like the portrayal. Even if they can’t win a lawsuit, it’s a nuisance, and studios try to prevent nuisance lawsuits.
Anyway, I don’t know how many you remember the film, MISSISSIPPI BURNING. The film was loosely based on the murder of the three civil rights workers in the 60s. “Loosely” although it went out of its way to establish that this was the story they were telling, down to duplicating the contents of the real victims’ car in the fictional version.
Then, however, the movie takes a turn into fantasy land. The FBI does all kinds of things the FBI never did in real life, the fictional mayor kills himself, and the fictional sheriff is convicted of the murders.
In real life, the real sheriff was tried and acquitted. Now, this real guy may be a racist murderer, or not, but the fact is, he was acquitted of the crime. He sees this movie, goes, “hey, that’s ME they are portraying, and I was judged innocent in a court of law.” Sues the studio who made the film. And won, something like eight million bucks.
So you have to be careful when you mix fact and fantasy.
Anonymous says
Hi there – let me, for a moment, play devil’s advocate.
Is it the packaging of these false memoirs that you care about more than the content? If you’d read these memoirs believing them to be fiction, would have enjoyed them any more or less? Is this really much different from being ‘sold’ great sex if you buy the right toothpaste or scent?
Today, fact and fiction are mixed to great effect all around us. What part of the evening news are you really willing to take as gospel truth? Even where (as in most cases) there’s no purposeful intention to deceive, in the process of editing, etc. distortion must occur. There’s not such thing as the ‘whole truth and nothing but the truth’ – there’s only someone’s version of it.
Likewise, I’m certain that each day each of us says something that’s ‘not quite true’ – granted for a variety of excellent reasons. Ever said ‘have a nice day’ when you’d really have like to say something like ‘go to hell’?
What I’m suggesting is that before we can answer the question of what is to be done about fake memoirs, we have to genuinely come to grips with what it is about then that upsets us so!
CharityH says
For the sake of argument:
We’re talking about shades of gray when it comes to memoirs and truth. Frankly, it surprises me that so many people are shocked that every printed word is not the end-all truth.
Everything is generally subjective, our own lives in particular. So what if someone didn’t have a twin sister? So what if the house of one’s birth is green rather than blue? Dialog in memoir is accepted to be a paraphrase; why can we read narrative memory this way?
I understand that somethings are beyond subjectivity, like ethnicity and geography–but really, if the book teaches, resonates, grips, etc., why hold it to such rigid standards of truth?
It’s not a college textbook from the chemistry shelf.
Bob Day says
Publish mine. It is all true, and I can prove it.
Jackie says
hmmm, who can I convince mine is true??? nada
Jackie says
For me it is simple. Don’t remove yourself so far from a situation in over thinking it. A persons first reaction to anything seems to be the path to a truth.Intuition is a valuable tool and can simplify so much. Start as that being “square one” and follow that path unignored.
Anonymous says
I just began reading Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” this afternoon. (Stay with me, this is going someplace.) From her Preface, written in 1817: “The event on which this fiction is founded has been supposed…as not of impossible occurrence….I have thus endeavoured to preserve the truth of the elementary principles of human nature, while I have not scrupled to innovate upon their combinations.”
The reason we’re drawn to memoirs of survival is because we want to believe it is possible to survive. So when we find out the person is lying–not just forgetting the facts of her history–we feel betrayed for investing not our money, but our faith and hope.
I don’t read memoirs because I don’t trust them–not since taking a class my senior year of college on “the autobiographical novel.” By the end of the semester, I realized there is no such thing as pure truth when it comes to memories. One of the students presented her senior paper and had the whole class crying over her battle with cancer when she was younger. The next day she confessed she never had cancer, and the teacher knew this when she took on the assignment. The professor’s point was to show us that the truth doesn’t matter as much as our reaction to the story. It just served to piss most of us off, though.
I’m sure there are plenty of good memoirs out there that are as close to the truth as the author could honestly recall the facts, but I would much rather invest my time in a novel that, like “Frankenstein,” preserves human nature through any combination of its principles.
As for what can be done? You know what can be done. Publishers know and agents know. There have been 85 posts already and everyone who’s written in knows. Whether anything will be done about the false memoirs is a completely different issue. As long as people buy them, wanting to be suckered in, there will be a market.
Jackie says
a truth is an individual belief and is interpreted by each person differently (everyone percieves their own truth by seeing things differently). My policy is to ponder a truth and then move on, life is to learn and enjoy. Every person is entitled to their own truth, whether other people agree or not.
M Clement Hall says
If she had submitted her “false memoir” as simple fiction, would any agent or editor have taken it up?
Isn’t the really sad part about this that she had to lie to get published?
Anonymous says
After reading through Nathan’s post and the 88 thoughtful comments, I have to weigh in with my opinion(s). Sad to admit, we have created or allowed, perhaps even encouraged, a culture of lies, half-truths, deceits, frauds, etc. Yes, a “fake” memoir is despicable, but how can we make such a fuss over this while accepting the lies and deceit we live with daily from politicians and business? We desperately need to create a new society based on truth, honesty and integrity, and this requires a positive change in human consciousness–a change few are ready or willing to make. With money and power more important than basic human integrity, how can we expect anything different than what we have?
Peer pressure is possibly our strongest tool for creating a culture of truth and fairness, but than can work only when we live to such high standards ourselves. Then we can demand it of others.
Anonymous says
Tweaking the conversation a bit:
“If anything, isn’t this is all a byproduct of the drive by publishers, and in our culture in general, to want an author to be the “perfect package?” Someone whose life story is just as compelling as their work, who isn’t just someone with a skill for words but someone who embodies their own work, this whole brand thing….”
Too right, too too right. Novelist as beauty contestant.
Z
Jackie says
I disagree with using Peer Pressure as a tool. Our happiness is based on our own perceptions and decisions that we have made or will make. The first lesson to be learned about people is UNDERSTANDING people. That is the first key in motivating a person. From there you can decide if that persons personality compliments what you desire. If there personality does not compliment yours it is as simple as “the glass is half full or half empty”…they are entitled to their view (with no animosity from oneself, but respect)
Anonymous says
Sebastian Horsley, author of memoir Dandy in the Underworld, admits this privately: Jimmy Boyle and Boyle’s ex-wife both deny that Boyle and Horsley ever had an affair.
Wouldn’t he had to have gotten permission from Boyle to say that the affair happened? Do publishers require releases for such statements? Now, as the current generation of readers has probably never heard of Jimmy Boyle, it’s not impossible that he would grant his permission.
But in the book, Horsley makes much of how afraid he still is of Boyle and how they’re not in touch for years.
Sebastian Horsley is published by major publishers in the UK and the U.S. Incidentally, he’s also reportedly a racist. the point being, he’ll say anything to get famous. He’ll now use those shock tactics to sell his so-called memoirs. So who knows what’s true in THAT memoir?
Judi says
But the whole problem is not fake memoirs. It’s the dummy who decided to label memoirs nonfiction. They’re not. They’re not history textbooks-they’re personal stories, based on a person’s recollections and interpretations. And you have a range-from the fairly accurate to the you can’t be serious-and you always will.
Isn’t the issue more recategorizing them, and then letting the buyer beware? Letting the market determine the response? If more accurate memoirs sell better, well, that’s part of the marketing isn’t it? Let the publisher verify their hearts out so they can stamp on the cover “less lies, more filling” to get more sales. Or not.
Seriously, were it not for the nonfiction label, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.
Suzanne Nam says
publishing companies make money off of books, and they function as marketers and distributors and are ultimately responsible for scamming readers.
indemnification deals with the relationship between the publisher and writer. it does not address the responsibilities a publishing house has to the buyers of fake memoirs.
if you buy a pair of 100% cotton jeans made by Guess (just a hypothetical!), and later discover that they are actually polyester, it’s Guess’ responsibility to own up to the deception.
sure, Guess probably bought the jeans from a manufacturer somewhere else, and may not have known they weren’t 100% cotton, but it doesn’t matter, because they stuck their name on them, just as a publisher sticks their name on a book. they are warranting to the world that the jeans are 100% cotton, just as a publisher is warranting to the world that a memoir is, indeed, non-fiction.
now, Guess will have an indemnification clause, too, and they can go after the manufacturer, but if you bought the jeans, you look to Guess for redress. why are publishers any different?
as someone who started her writing career as a magazine fact checker (after a first career as a lawyer) i agree that it’s just untenable to fact check everything in a memoir.
but it’s not that hard or expensive to ask for school records, family photos, birth certificate, etc. to at least prove that subject of the memoir actually existed.
is that so hard?
Anonymous says
To Therese Walsh: unlike books, magazines sell advertising. That’s probably why they can afford to fact-check each issue.
My feeling is that the loose system has been working. People are starting to get wise and investigate suspicious-sounding memoirs.
And by the way, it’s worth remembering that if James Frey and JT Leroy couldnt write compelling stories no one would care either way.
Publishers should just slap a disclaimer on memoirs, the way supplement manufacturers do, i.e. “we say it makes you thin but there’s no proof.”
“We say it’s true but there’s no proof.”
Erik says
judi has an important point – that memoirs are not the same as other nonfiction.
I’m contemplating my own memoir – and I’ll probably write it for my kids no matter what. But it’s my own memory, and memories are faulty.
One day I happened upon the aftermath of a particularly bloody assassination in the Medellin/Cali cartel war. It weighs on my outlook on life to this day, and I still have a bit of a fear of police disco lights. While I remember every detail of the scene, what about the rest of it?
I think it was in January 1983, but I’m not sure. I remember it as being near 124th St and 77 Ave, but that doesn’t jibe with what I remember doing before. If I get Lexus/Nexus access soon, I can research it, but that will certainly push my “memories” in a direction I didn’t precisely remember.
When you make a compelling narrative out of your own life, you start from bad memories and you push them into a direction where they appear to make sense. Life itself doesn’t make sense at all. I can remember bits and pieces, but I can’t sew together the context under which they happened.
Wanna fact check any of this?
The problem, for me, comes in how you define “truth”. Even fictional stories need to be “true”, in the sense that they are representing people and cultures in a way that depicts their outlook on life. I learned as a kid in Miami that “reality” is very different from “truth”, however, and that’s what a good hunk of my memoir is about.
All writers must speak from “truth”. I don’t care if it’s a memoir or fable, they have to be “true”. Ms. Seltzer’s story was not only not “real”, it wasn’t “true”, and that’s the problem. It wasn’t her story to write far beyond not being an actual memoir. To compose a memoir is to adhere to an even higher standard of “truth” even if some of the bits that weave it together into a compelling narrative aren’t precisely “real”.
Does that make sense? Hopefully, it doesn’t, otherwise I haven’t done my job.
The point remains, however, that it’s not exactly “non-fiction” in the purest sense no matter how you look at it.
Suzanne Nam says
erik, maybe seltzer thought she was telling the “truth” even though she had to lie to tell it. only a few people read the book, so who knows, right? maybe it was the “truthiest” fake ever.
that’s not the problem.
the problem is she said she was writing a memoir and she was writing fiction.
i can’t define truth, nor can i fact check whether your heart was pounding in 1983.
i can check some basics tho.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aPo9sCqza98
Therese Walsh says
To Anonymous:
Yes, magazines sell advertising and that advertising helps to pay for all staff, including the researchers. However, Rodale Press also has a huge book division and all of their books are also fact-checked. Umbrella situation? Maybe. Responsible publishing? Yes. Or is it just a nonfic thing to understand the importance of reputation and investing a little brainpower at the start?
I agree with Wanda: not everything can be fact-checked and some details might only seem false based on gut feel. But there certainly are facts which can be verified. Don’t you think the knowledge of a pre-publication check might make the authors of these memoirs try just a little harder to be honest?
Nanette says
Why can’t the author submit the book as fiction and be done with it?
Another small point is this: I wrote a memoir I’m trying to sell, and if someone asks Mayor Bloomberg if the stuff I said about what REALLY goes on in NYC homeless shelters is true, he will deny it. He has already denied it to me, even though I was there. But I guess the editors could find other people who were there and ask them. My point is that on some things, the VILLAIN will deny what the author says to save his/her skin. I’m sure my mother, if she’s still alive if my memoir gets published will deny everything I said and most people who were witness are dead or there whereabouts are not known. And my brothers won’t say anything, afraid to not get the inheritance.
just a few things to think about.
nanette
val says
Unfortunately, my dial-up is balking at loading the just-shy of 100 comments that are ahead of me so I apologize if I’m repeating something someone else has already commented. That said…
The film industry has long used a phrase that I think the publishing industry could adopt as a new genre: “Based on a true story”. In the “Based on” genre, fiction and nonfiction (memoir/history) can blend and interweave. Some few real life individuals can move through real events alongside fictional characters (think: Forest Gump).
Could give reviewers and book clubs new fodder for discussion: which parts/characters were real/which were fabricated.
Just a thought…
Erik says
suzanne nam said:
> erik, maybe seltzer thought she was telling the “truth” even though she had to lie to tell it.
Yes, you are correct that she thought this – or I’ll at least give her the benefit of the doubt. But it wasn’t her story to tell.
Stealing someone else’s story is the same as stealing their soul. If you want to honor those that really have no voice, possibly because they are dead, you have to really work at it. Anyone who’s had to give a eulogy will tell you how hard it is.
I’ve had a moment from my childhood ripped off and used sensationally in a “Miami Vice” episode. I haven’t forgiven television for that shameful act since. To be “true” is to really be a part of the moment and to depict it just as those who were there either reacted or would have reacted. It’s hard stuff, but it’s what makes works compelling IMHO.
You’re probably right that she thought she was somehow being “true” – but I can assure you that after listening to her fake accent and reading a few bits of her work it wasn’t. That wasn’t her story to write, and I don’t care how compelling it sounded. Besides, after three years and all that professional coaching/editing it better damned well at least sound compelling.
I am arguing that “true” is in the heart, while “real” is something out there in the mist. The village of Macondo is very true, even if it isn’t real. Reality, I find, is grossly over-rated by this analysis.
Suzanne Nam says
erik, what is this “not her story to tell” stuff? as far as i knew, the universe and beyond was fair game for fiction writers (tho seltzer claimed not to be one).
the true/real dichotomy is silly and so is the idea of “stealing someone’s story.” was wally lamb stealing someone’s story?! was ishiguro?! (list goes on and on and on)
benwah says
Because memoir falls under non-fiction, presumably it can be pitched prior to completion of the writing. The NF proposal process is somewhat different from the fiction process which dictates a completed manuscript. If somebody has a good NF idea & proposal, that might be enough to hook an agent and publisher. Which could mean that the barrier to entry, as it were, would be lower than with fiction. Once an author’s been given a contract, the pressure to continue the story is greater. Who knows. I’m not condoning the practice, I’m just wondering aloud.
I’m also amused at the people who’ve said that obviously memoirs are faked, hanging their hats on the idea that dialogue can’t be re-created with any fidelity. But isn’t there a HUGE difference between reconstructing a conversation vs. claiming a completely fabricated existence, constructing supporting documents and individuals (as Seltzer did)? In many memoirs you often read the disclaimer that dialogue is reconstructed “to the best of the author’s ability.” That’s poetic license. Claiming different parentage seems to fall far outside that particular shade of gray.
Ultimately, I don’t think this is a huge crisis in publishing. I think these fakes are and will be easier to spot going forward simply because of the abundance of information out there. But I doubt there are more fakes now then ever before.
Erik says
suzanne nam:
Obviously, we disagree to the point that you aren’t willing to consider what I’m saying. That’s fine.
Wally Lamb is a person who values “truth” in fiction very highly, and I would think that this is obvious. He is a good example of what I’m saying.
Why was this story not Ms. Seltzer’s to tell? Because it is clear that she didn’t know enough about her subject to be able to, as Lamb would say, let the characters do what comes naturally to them.
You may think you’re a great writer, and for all I know you are. Let’s just assume that. But you are not omnipotent. There are certainly subjects that would be essentially impossible for you to react to in a way other than the conventional wisdom that you were raised in. That means that by attempting to tell that story you will be recounting background noise and your own prejudice.
I could not write a story about a rich white person who went to an Ivy League school and have it come off as “true”. That’s not my world. If I tried, the result would be laughable. I know this.
To assume that a writer can write absolutely anything, regardless of the culture it comes from, is the root of the echo chamber that reinforces prejudice. I will accept that a writer who understands that they know nothing could, in time, be capable of becoming very wise and writing about anything. But you first have to ditch the idea that anything is open to you – then, and only then, it might wind up being accurate.
Many of you will realize that I am hinting at something without using a very loaded word. I am trying to open a mind or two, not level charges. I find it’s better to change the world rather than complain about it.
Writers are invited into someone’s head for a while. What do you say when you get in there? Do you offer candy or nutrition? Do you dribble poison? The relationship between the writer and the reader determines a lot of what is retained. But I happen to believe that the author has a steep responsibility to behave themselves and offer something to their host – something that is at least “true”.
CherrySoda says
Erik, I must respectfully disagree with you. Did Shakespeare write truthfully about kings and peasants? About the love of a black man for a white woman?
In this age of identity politics, it seems to me we’re all too willing to surrender what can most help us understand one another: the gift of imaginative empathy.
I hope that all writers possess and cherish this, and don’t let anyone intimidate them into thinking they can’t write about whatsoever they wish.
Not a memoir, of course! 🙂
Nona says
In my opinion, writing a fake memoir should fall under the “breach of contract” clause in a legal agreement with the author.
Literary agecies should consult an experienced IP (Intellectual Property) attorney for help in drawing up an air-tight contract with the would-be author. An ounce of prevention here beats a pound of cure.
The burden of proof (regarding authenticity) should rest on the author, not on the agent or publisher.