After watching the spectacle of James Frey, a man who earned mega-bucks even though he fabricated a significant portion of his memoir, A Million Little Pieces, I'm thinking of writing my own story. It will be all about my unfortunate childhood when, bullied by the gym-teacher's sadistic daughter, I took comfort in food and was compelled to shop in the "chubette" department for several years. Of course, to make my plight sound extra-pathetic, and appeal to Oprah (who we all know, has had her own issues with weight), I may have to resort to a few "embellishments." Like the time I was tossed out of fat camp when I organized a food fight. And the time I scarfed down a dozen cream puffs at one sitting. And that black day when I stole my mother's credit card and ate my way through the neighbourhood deli. Then, at the point when I hit rock bottom, I enroll in a twelve-step program and, slowly, painfully, come to terms with my debilitating addiction--a story I will detail in a "memoir" called A Million Jelly Donuts.

Like James Frey's acclaimed story, it will be sprinkled with lots of four-letter words--to show how impassioned and genuine I am. And like his, it will have a smattering of truth--enough so that I can legitimately call it a memoir. All that's important is that people find my story sufficiently inspiring to prompt them to change their lives, like fans of James's book say his book has inspired them. James, a stubborn individualist who supposedly came through the rigors of therapy by giving practically everyone the finger, even has a two-word motto which his fans have taken to heart: "Hold On."

I, too, have come up with a pithy saying designed to inspire my readers: "Don't Eat."

On Larry King Live last night, James--who so far has raked in 3.5 million from his harrowing saga, and has written a sequel so he can rake in even more (you gotta strike while the fire's still hot, after all)--says the truth of individual events in his tale is incidental. As far as he's concerned, what counts it that it's faithful to the essence of his story. Oprah, who selected the memoir for her book club, thus boosting it into the stratosphere of bestsellerdom, phoned in to Larry's show in its closing moments to say that James is still aces with her. Even though the veracity of his book is questionable, what's important, says Oprah is that this document, fraudulent though it may be, continues to inspire countless numbers of desperate and despairing people.

I am convinced that A Million Jelly Donuts--a similarly bogus work--has the potential to do the same.

Look for it soon at a book store near you.

And look for me on Oprah. I'll be the skinny white chick with the hungry look in her eyes.