While Salon busies itself with a listicle of maybe-fake memories (The Diary of Anne Frank: "Why is Mrs. Van Daan always running the vacuum cleaner? Is that plausible?"), Slate makes the case that fictional memoirists being outed is a sign "the system" – huh? – is working. Argues Ben Yagoda:

As I say, the system works. It throws shame on the perpetrators and metes out more or less appropriate career punishment; certainly, the fabulists lose the credibility needed to publish additional nonfiction books (unless they're in the form of an apology for—or explanation of—their misdeeds, as with disgraced New York Times reporter Jayson Blair). The editors of fake memoirs are suitably chastened: Even if they acted in totally good faith, it's presumably one-more-strike-and-they're-out. And with each scandal, the whole book world—editors, reviewers, and readers—gets a little warier and adjusts its BS detectors one more notch toward Level Orange. The NYT reported that at the request of Riverhead Books, Seltzer "signed a contract in which she had legally promised to tell the truth."

Of course, she lied on the contract, too.

And that's kinda the point. So wouldn't it make sense to turn on the BS detector, say, before the book hits store shelves (or you print thousands and thousands of copies) and readers feel cheated and you're facing a class action suit and forced to issue refunds? Perhaps that method would be better for the whole book world.