Misery memoir fraud gets egg on face, mothers speak out, small children weep uncontrollably

Caveat emptor! The line between fiction and biography (auto- or otherwise) is one we should not fear to cross - at any time, without warning or respect for ordinary decency. Crappy hard-childhood memoirs are (to plagiarise Tom Lehrer - I don't think he'd mind) 'the particularly fashionable form of idiocy' among the young middle-class. Most people don't actually give money to charities, but they feel they're doing their bit to counter abuse, poverty and deprivation by reading about them in books and producing, on occasion, an earnest, charitable tear.

The only losers in the 'fraudobiography' debacle are those 'who associate authenticity with artistic merit'. If I thought it would boost sales, I would not hesitate personally to lay claim to all of the positive accomplishments of the characters in my books. Alas, when the best part of the subject matter comprises 8th-century Wendish seafaring exploits, the title Dogtooth: The Autobiography might arouse more than a little suspicion.