To paraphrase Dave Mustaine (which is the most ridiculous thing I have ever said), this book was like ripping my butthole hairs out very slowly.
However, I am the proud (?) owner of the first edition paperback and if you pledge my patreon I will rip out a piece of this horrible book, write three ways you're better than James Frey, and send it to you.
My issues with this book are numerous, and I went into it with basically no opinion. I'm not really that he lied to Oprah, because memoir is a crapshoot for a lot of reasons. But my struggle is that you can lie to me and call it memoir but you should at least make it good.
I do not recommend reading this book, although the first five pages moved at a nice clip. But unlike Milli Vanilli, the original content of James Frey's bullshit is worthless.