The meanest woman I know recommends one fake thing
Inside is the exclusive cover reveal of Scaachi Koul's new book, "Sucker Punch"
Note from Caroline: You know Scaachi Koul.
She’s a Senior Writer for Slate and the co-host of the Ambie Award-winning podcast, Scamfluencers. She co-hosted the Emmy-nominated Netflix series, Follow This, and her writing has appeared in The New Yorker, This American Life, New York Magazine, and The Cut. She’s in documentaries like Quiet On Set and Pretty Baby. Her first book, One Day We’ll All Be Dead And None Of This Will Matter, was a New York Times Editors’ Choice.
She’s also the meanest woman on the internet, according to me.
I first met Scaachi when we worked at BuzzFeed together. I had known her from her Twitter presence; acerbic, powerful, and absolutely terrifying. I envied her ability to literally just step on the faces (or Twitter avatars) of any man who dared to “actually” in her replies. Honestly, she did it to women too. Equal opportunity employer. I knew I just had to be her friend.
Her second book, Sucker Punch, is forthcoming March 11, 2025, and today she’s revealing the cover in this newsletter (keep scrolling to see it!).
But first, she has some recs to share. Scaachi, take it away.
Thanks, Caroline! Okay, I know there are a lot of writers who have really romantic set-ups for their work — upon rising at 4 am, I pour myself a cup of dingleberry tea and write using nothing but paper I made myself, an ostrich feather, and my own blood. I do not have any such pretenses; I don’t use very many gadgets to help get the work done nor do I have a process worth sharing. But every so often, I find a few things that at least make the slog of creation slightly more bearable.
The World’s Loudest and Brightest Keyboard
Let me tell you about this goddamn keyboard. I love this stupid thing. When I type on it while I FaceTime my parents, my mom says it sounds like popcorn bursting in quick succession. My father marvels at the cacophony: “What do you even need to say so fast?” When you’re in the process of writing something laborious and personal, it’s so easy to forget whether you’re saying anything of importance. Sometimes you need to manifest it.
This keyboard tricks you into believing in yourself. The keys offer the crispiest clickity-clack I’ve ever heard in my life, making every sentence you write sound like a telegram from the King. It lights up in different colors based on your keystrokes, which also gives the impression that you are a pilot, trying to land a plane that is actively on fire. Every word feels heavy and valuable. Even in the midst of writer’s block, this keyboard still fooled me into feeling like I was productive. Sometimes, that’s all you need to get to the next chapter.
Okay, fine, one bullshit romantic writing thing: back when I was very young and very disgusting, I’d crack the window of my 11th floor studio apartment in Toronto and smoke a ciggie or two. Americans don’t know what they’re missing with the beloved Canadian Belmont.
These days, I’ve mostly lost my taste for cigarettes, unless you’ve recently seen me smoking somewhere, in which case, shut up, no you didn’t. But what’s for sure is that I can’t — and won’t — chain smoke at my desk while trying to meet a deadline. But there is something undeniable about holding a cig between your teeth while you try to find your point.
The fake cigarettes I bought aren’t perfect — the smoking mechanism doesn’t really mimic the pleasure of being lost in a puff of your own vapors. But it did help me stay seated at my desk, instead of circling the block, chain-smoking. Picture it: me, slamming my fat fingers down on the loudest keyboard in America, two cigarettes in my mouth and one behind my ear, puffing away and writing the next Heartburn (not the Nora Ephron book; just improving upon the WebMD writeup).
As ever, I believe it’s best to end on a negative, so here’s one thing I bought to help me finish my book that just didn’t help:
I mean, look, it’s very cute. I originally bought it to work on the Pomodoro System, which I think is effective, but can probably be timed using anything already in my possession. Does anyone need a little dodecagon with a host of very specific timers? Three minutes? When am I counting just three minutes??? Even a jammy egg takes five and a half!!
I’m sure there’s someone who will find this device helpful, maybe someone who goes to their phone to turn a timer on and off but just gets sucked into Instagram. I’m not saying I don’t do that, it’s more that I think it’s a part of the process. Sometimes you fall into rabbit holes so you can emerge with a new perspective. Think of all the fake cigarettes I could have bought with the money I spent on this instead.
And now, the cover reveal.
It took me nearly six years to write this book. I first conceived of it as a defense of conflict; I’ve always loved an argument, from childhood to my adulthood, and have always seen the value in a fight. But by the time I filed for divorce, lost my job, and my mom got cancer, I was tired of it. A life of fighting — fighting for something, fighting against someone, fighting my own hopes and expectations — had exhausted me. Sucker Punch is, in a way, about knowing when to finally give up. There’s so much victory in failure.
Here’s an exclusive look at the cover. I hope you like it, but if you don’t, I don’t give a shit:
Please preorder it; it’s good for the economy.
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Fifteen laughs and a newfound appreciation for fashion aviators later, book pre-ordered. (high five to the designer and art director too, from a fellow design monkey)
My kid is a high school sophomore, and last week he asked for proofreading help with his English homework. His teacher, whom I now realize is a whipsmart sistah-friend, had assigned the class an SK essay for a deep read. As soon as I saw the byline I exclaimed, "Wow, Scaachi Koul, your teacher knows what's up!" or something to that effect, and he seemed impressed. (Quietly. For once.)
That is an EXCELLENT cover 👏👏👏