At first read, James Frey’s book sounds like a great story. He battled numerous addictions and… At first read, James Frey’s book sounds like a great story. He battled numerous addictions and spent time in jail – then lived to tell the tale. And, as far as storytelling goes, he did quite a good job; his memoir, “A Million Little Pieces,” was picked up as an Oprah’s Book Club book and was the second best-selling book of last year.

Whenever a story gets so much attention, though, questions are bound to be raised. Because this novel was marketed as a true story, those questions were in regard to its authenticity – and the answers cast a shadow on Frey’s true story. According to an inquisition done by the Web site The Smoking Gun, Frey did not actually do several of the things he claims in his book.

In the book, Frey is charged with inciting a riot, assaulting an officer with his car and possessing crack cocaine. In the police report, he is charged with being drunk in his car without a driver’s license. Where the truth ultimately lies is still up for question, as Frey maintains his truthfulness and has threatened to sue The Smoking Gun.

No one is questioning the author’s previous addictions or the emotional power of the bestseller; what is disturbing is its marketing. If indeed the book includes such large-scale falsities, it should never have been published without an indication of its semi-fictitious nature. No one seems to agree on exactly how much fact checking was done before publication, so the omission of what was possibly a necessary disclaimer could be the fault of numerous people.

Especially in this case, where the success of the book is tied very closely to its honesty, anyone involved in knowingly overlooking various fallacies and continuing to push the story as nonfiction is significantly flawed.

Granted, a book that is “based on a true story” has considerably less pull than one that presents itself as pure nonfiction, but ultimately the truth needs to be paramount to a publisher’s bottom line.

Random House, whose Doubleday division was responsible for signing the author and publishing the book, seems to recognize this, at least in retrospect. They have begun offering refunds to people who purchased the book directly through them and who call their customer service line and have a receipt of purchase.

Neither Random House nor Doubleday has come out and acknowledged any sort of falsity, and the refunds are based solely on the “controversy” currently surrounding the story. Still, this is a classy move on the part of a company who is legally under no obligation to refund anything to anybody. Sales of the memoir show no signs of slowing down, and it will remain profitable for the publisher.

Now, at least, those who feel disillusioned with their purchase have a way out.