All that is left here is the truth; everything else is gone.

Have you heard James Frey has a novel out? No, not a memoir, an actual novel this time. Most of the criticism has been negative, but he did get a positive review from the New York Times -- positive enough that I added the book to my public library request list, even though I haven't read his since-debunked memoir or its follow-up. (I'm 19th of 113 requesters -- it looks like the NYPL ordered 87 copies but none, or few, of them are in yet.)

Too bad he is apparently doomed to repeat the mistakes of his past. Francis of Ghost Word did some checking on the facts with which the novel in question, BRIGHT SHINY MORNING, is peppered, and found that, whoops, his version of L.A. history is rather inaccurate.

James, buddy, why didn't you take advantage of the book's genre to make up some fake factoids? After all, studies have shown 72 percent of statistics are made up on the spot.

The title for this post comes from the Barenaked Ladies song "Serendipity," which seemed eerily appropriate. Naturally, serendipity is one of my favorite words.