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>be Amy Griffin, a nepobaby billionaire who literally does deals with Blackstone and attends the MET Gala every year
>float through life doing whatever the fuck you want because you have connections
>use your connections to publish a ghost written memoir called "The Tell" in 2025 via Penguin Random House, the largest publisher in the west
>a memoir about how you engaged in MDMA assisted therapy and unlocked memories of a past life where you were raped
>use your connections to get your shitty made up memoir about past lives on the Oprah Book Club
>use your connections to promote your shitty fictitious memoir through The New York Times
>then it comes to light that the whole rape story was in fact a real event that happened to one of Amy Griffin's classmates in high school back in the 1980s
>then it comes to light that after not speaking to the real rape victim for decades, Amy Griffin invited Jane Doe out to coffee in 2019 and probed her for information about the rape
>then in 2022, Amy Griffin hired private investigators to call Jane Doe, pretending to be agents interested in purchasing rights to her life story
>they conducted several phone interviews about her life, then when the topic of buying the life rights come up, they ghosted her
>use the information from these interviews to write your "memoir" about taking illegal psychedelic drugs "for therapy" and promote MDMA therapy to the public at large
>then it turns out Amy Griffin has also invested in the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS), which uses MDMA for therapy
>so this whole book was in fact just a marketing scheme for the illegal drug therapy clinic you invested in
>at no point did anyone in Penguin Random House, or the Oprah Book Club, or the New York Times ever think to fact check the MDMA memory unlocked rape memoir
This is the current state of literature. You don't hate the publishing industry enough.