After a blizzard of angry responses to her Larry King phone call, Oprah admits on her show she was wrong. James Frey is commissioned to write a book about it. Says he'll toss in some drama, like that she wept tears like pearls when she wrung her hands before her audience and then admitting to him backstage she once snorted baby powder and spent a night in jail reading book club selections to prostitutes. Art department says they'll photoshop pix of O, making her hair blond. No one will notice much and it will improve sales.
Big NY publisher gives Frey $1,000,000,000 advance and much back slapping congrats for inventing new genre -- non-fictional fiction. Somewhere between the lines, truth reigns.