So you are here. Hello.

Welcome to SMIRK, a serialized memoir of my experiences getting to know “Pharma Bro” Martin Shkreli, first as a reporter and then as a friend…and then falling in love with him. (And then, after a very public breakup, going back to being friends again.)

A common refrain among journalists who don’t write books is that they don’t think they have anything to say. I’ve had the opposite problem. As my life unfolded, drawing me into ever-more challenging and intriguing circumstances, I found I had much to say, but no appropriate receptacle for it.

Want the full story? Sign up here to start receiving SMIRK.

Some of my story made it into public view by way of a profile of me in Elle magazine in December 2020, written by a talented journalist whom I happened to have been professional acquaintances with, Stephanie Clifford. Her piece laid down the bones of the chronology: how I, a one-time reporter for a major media outlet, upended my life and career after developing affection for the so-called “most hated man in America.”

While the article masterfully described what had happened, it left many people unsatisfied (on social media and elsewhere) about why those things had happened. And those readers were right to wonder. Truthfully, the Elle piece revealed only the tip of a large iceberg. There was so much more to be said, to be shown, and to be explained.

Martin Shkreli walking into the Brooklyn federal courthouse. (Getty Images)
Martin Shkreli walking into the Brooklyn federal courthouse. (Getty Images)

I had been trying since I first developed a rapport with Martin — who earned his egregiously bad reputation by jacking up the price of a drug used by AIDS patients, trolling people on the internet, and getting sent to prison for securities fraud — to write a book about his story. But throughout my efforts to do just that (which proved to be much more difficult than I expected), it evolved into more than just his story. It became my story, too.

Judging from my interactions with publishers, I might have been able to sell a book through the standard channels had I painted Martin as the despicable villain so many people wanted to believe he was, or myself as a victim of his manipulations, or our relationship as a doomed prison romance. But there was no way I could force myself to write something that didn’t feel true to me, and none of those approaches did.

As a result, the deepest and most interesting parts of my story have remained out of public view — until now.

Start reading SMIRK today! Sign up here to begin receiving posts.

Substack seemed to me to be the perfect vehicle for putting the rest of my tale out into the world. An email newsletter platform for writers, it seeks to disrupt the publishing status quo by reducing the need for gatekeepers. I have a story that disrupts the narrative status quo and needs a path around gatekeepers to reach readers.

How it works (UPDATED TERMS)

The book SMIRK is substantially complete. Free subscribers can receive occasional news and updates about SMIRK, but new posts will only appear rarely. You may access existing free posts at www.smirk-book.com. You may also pay to subscribe to access all posts.

Paid access now costs $5 per month or $30 yearly.

FREE EBOOK: Anyone who subscribes to an annual subscription or founding subscription will receive a free ebook sent directly to their email inbox. The format can be easily readable in Kindle and other e-readers. Currently, the ebook is NOT AVAILABLE on Amazon or other platforms. It is a gift for your personal enjoyment.

More about Substack

To find out more about the company that provides the tech for this newsletter, visit Substack.com.

Thanks again!

Thanks again for visiting this page. I hope you love SMIRK!

Me (Christie Smythe), sitting on a park bench in Harlem. Photo by Stephen Yang.
Photo of me in Harlem (by Stephen Yang)

Subscribe to SMIRK

What made me do the unthinkable and fall in love with Martin Shkreli.

People

Journalist in NYC, former EIC of The Business of Business. Alum of Mizzou and the Knight-Bagehot fellowship program at Columbia. A "media figure of mild infamy," according to Vulture.