Karr is acknowledging that her son would likely have a very different version of their life if he were telling the story. The prologue to “Lit,” addressed as an open letter to her twentysomething son, speaks more to the unreliability of memory and the filters that color each person’s singular point of view. Karr doesn’t mean her “lie” in that tall-tale sense, nor in the James Frey way of intended deception. It’s an ironic beginning for a writer who rose to fame on “The Liars’ Club,” a book recounting her turbulent childhood - the title taken from the group of guys her roughneck father hung out with, shooting pool and telling tall tales in their East Texas town. “Any way I tell this story is a lie,” reads the first line of “Lit” by poet and memoirist Mary Karr.
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