But recently, this sort of thing has started to happen with absurd regularity
, the inspiring memoir of a young girl traversing the European wilderness to escape the Nazis and being raised along the way by a family of wolves. It was recently proven to be totally fraudulent. The woman who wrote it escaped from the Nazis the normal, boring way: by jetpack.
In the book, she lied about most every detail of her life, including being Jewish
, presumably because she thought the whole âHolocaust thingâ had been done
and needed spicing up with some Romulus and Remus allusions. If thereâs any justice, Elie Wieselâs on his way to her house right now with a lead pipe.
But even more insidious, if not as blasphemously twisted, is the recently debunked âmemoirâ
Love and Consequences
, the stirring first-person narrative of a young half-Native American womanâs ordeal growing up in a black foster home, running drugs for L.A. street gangs, and seeing her brother get shot down by the Crips.
The author, a white woman raised by wealthy parents and living in Oregon, has canceled all promotional tours through Los Angeles, Iâm guessing because she would be instantly swarmed by literate gang members who want to gun her down for cheapening their noble way of life.
I can see why publishers allow this to happen. No one buys new Fiction nowadays, so call it a stirring personal ordeal and watch it climb to the Best Seller List on the back of Oprahâs Book Club. But, seriously, letâs get on this. Itâs not worth the humiliation anymore.
Youâre dying, print media; accept it and try not to soil yourself in your last moments. Thatâs how my Grandpa went, and now at Thanksgiving itâs the only time he comes up in conversation.
On a related note, call your nearest Barnes and Noble today and reserve your own copy of my upcoming memoir, Doing Coke with Heidi Klum While Inside of a Tiger: The Michael Swaim Story (Book I: Mission to Mars)
When not blogging for Cracked, Michael constructs a far more interesting life than his own as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren't Muskets!
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