I'm really sorry about the Holocaust, but I call Liarpants.

So one of the current skerfuffles in the literary world deals with yet another big ol' scam. It seems like maybe in schools they are not so much covering the difference between fiction and non, especially with regard to personal memoirs. (Yes, James Frey, I'm looking at you and your Million Little Crap Lies, and don't you think I'm ever going to read anything you write, ever.)

The latest truth-stretcher is a Holocaust survivor named Henry Rosenblat, who over the years shared the story of how a Polish girl outside the camp saved his life by throwing bread over the fence to him. Later he met her again on a blind date and they got married. Their story was featured on Oprah Winfrey's show and then author Laurie Friedman got permission create a picture book about their story. The book, Angel Girl, came out a few months ago and I have a copy in my juvenile biography section. Another publishing company paid Rosenblat an advance and was going to publish his story as an adult memoir.

When details of his story were challenged by scholars and friends, Mr. Rosenblat admitted that not everything in his memoir exactly actually happened. There was no girl throwing bread over the fence. So now the publishers are recalling the children's book and issuing refunds, and the memoir project has been scrapped. Sucks to be Laurie Friedman right about now, since it wasn't her fault people are big fibbers. And now I have to pull the book and send it back to the publisher.

Now, here's the thing. Do I think Henry Rosenblat's life (his real life) has meaning? Absolutely. Do I think his story of survival and the stories of other Holocaust survivors are important? Yes. I mean, my gosh, it's the HOLOCAUST. Those stories are enough on their own and don't need to be embellished to be impressive and inspiring.

So then what's with all the lying everyone is doing? I mean, if you think your own story isn't spicy enough, then don't bother telling it! Or, tell bits from your life and bits of spice but, (and here is the most important part) label it as "FICTION." Because see, there's this WHOLE SECTION of the library entitled fiction, and it's okay to have books go there.

Like today. I left a message with the library saying that I would be coming in late because I had a few things to take care of this morning. Now, what they did not know was that the thing that needed taking care of was my need to sleep in. But that's okay. What would NOT have been okay is if I'd turned up at work and then told this huge long story about all the fictional things I did and places I went this morning. And then maybe written them down in a book and gotten them published with the title, "True Things I Did the Morning of January 6th: A True Story To Be Shelved in the Nonfiction Section."

Actually, now that I think of it, that's probably the best story title EVER.

Nobody steal it.

Posted in: library gossip