The Author
Sarma Melngailis is the founder of the New York restaurant Pure Food and Wine and the brand One Lucky Duck. Before everything fell apart, her place was a “celebrity hotspot” with a loyal following and constant press. She’d worked in private equity, built a beloved restaurant, and already published two cookbooks with a major publisher.
Then one man entered her life, and what she later called a “cult of one” destroyed her business, her reputation, and eventually led to criminal charges and four months at Rikers.
She knew almost immediately: she would write the story.
The Problem: A Docuseries That Twisted Her Words
Sarma began her memoir right after getting out of jail and spent about eight years on it (with long breaks). Midway through that process, she agreed to participate in a docuseries that was later sold to Netflix: Bad Vegan.
She believed “documentary” meant truth.
What she got instead:
- Two marathon interview days—one around 12 hours—with no editorial control
- Recorded phone calls with the man who harmed her, done at the filmmakers’ request
- Editing that moved her words around and made cooperative recordings look like “hot mic” moments
- A story cut so viewers could walk away thinking completely different things about her
The result: The filmmakers were paid; she wasn’t. She was left with the same debt and a new flood of judgment and confusion.
“I had to go online and explain what they left out and how misleading it was. I have all the receipts—but I had to be on the defensive.”
When Bad Vegan came out, she already had a rough draft of the book written. That’s when the project changed:
The memoir went from personal to imperative. She needed her real story, in her own words, in the world.
Why She Rejected Traditional Publishing
Agents and publishers came calling. She listened.
On paper, a big deal would have helped. She openly says she could have really used the money from an advance.
But every conversation set off alarm bells:
- A big publisher could tell her what she could or couldn’t include
- They could force cuts for length
- They could decide what was “too much” or “can’t be said”
- The timing would be on their schedule, not hers
After seeing what happened with the docuseries, she refused to hand over control again. In her words, “I knew I didn’t want to be subject to anybody else telling me what I can and can’t put in there, or how long it has to be, or ‘you can’t say that, take this out.’ I felt really strongly about wanting control over my story.”
She chose to go independent.
Why She Chose Scribe
Sarma first heard about Scribe from a podcast with David Goggins. She had already read his first book. When she learned he’d almost signed a traditional deal, pulled back, and then chose to go independent with Scribe, it validated her instinct.
“When I found out that he did that, it made me feel so much better. If Goggins did it, I felt even more validated that this is the way I want to go. That’s kind of how I came to Scribe.”
What mattered to her:
- Keeping creative and editorial control
- A partner to help her refine, not reshape, her voice
- Ownership over decisions about length, content, and how the book would look
- Flexibility on timing and formats (hardcover, paperback, audiobook later)
Later, looking back on the full process, she said: “I can say with 100% honesty that it was great every step of the way. If it was just you and me, not on a podcast, and you said, ‘Just tell me what we could have done better,’ I’d say: I don’t know. I can’t think of anything.”
The Work: Turning an Enormous Draft into a Page-Turner
By the time she came through editing:
- Her first draft was about 300,000 words
- The final book is about 200,000 words
- The printed book is roughly 650 pages
It’s long on purpose.
She recovered and included a huge amount of real digital communication with the man who controlled her: messages, emails, etc. Some of his language is repetitive and relentless—exactly as it was in her life. “If I cut much more, I’d lose that element of taking the reader along the ride with me. That ‘oh my God, again’ feeling is what it was actually like.”
The result is a book that reads, in her words and her editor’s, like: “Memoir, true crime, and psychological thriller.”
The Result: A Book That’s Already Changing Lives
Since the book came out, Sarma hears three things over and over:
- “I couldn’t put it down.”
- “It’s the first book I’ve finished in years.”
- “I finally understand how something like this can happen.”
Readers who’ve been through manipulation say the book makes them feel less alone and less “stupid.” Families are using it to better understand loved ones. And at least one person she knows has left a harmful relationship after recognizing their own situation in her story.
She’s now:
- Continuing podcast and media appearances to share the story
- Working on a new docuseries that both tells what really happened and explains the psychology behind it
- Planning a follow-up book that includes her time at Rikers and more analysis she cut from this memoir
- Working toward restarting her business, with a large group of people rooting for her to rebuild
Through all of it, the central thread is the same:
After having her life edited by others, she chose a path where she owns every word.