All I need to know, I learned from television.

OK.

I admit it. After all the hype, I was mildly curious about this book. (It's akin to hearing about how god-awful Jonathan Franzen's second novel is, and scouring used bookstores and libraries for it because you don't want to shell out the cash. Not that I have done that.)

Fortunately a friend saved me the trouble with Frey's novel and just lent it to me. I'm on page 24, and already I can tell that he's totally lying. No struggle with his family when they dropped him off at rehab? In day two of rehab, he's not craving alcohol or drugs and can eat and walk around like a normal person? He's actually social with the people around him? Not once has he had the urge to leave rehab to go shopping or work out?

COME ON.

Clearly Mr. Frey needed to spend some time with our good friends at A&E, or Meg Ryan, or Lindsay Lohan, before sitting down to write this novel.