An electrifying, propulsive novel about the rise and fall of a controversial beauty mogul and the moral gray areas at the intersections of beauty, power, and ambition
It’s 2015 and Maxine Thomas, the founder and creative director of the cult makeup company Reveal, has just been suspended by her own Board for a scandalous transgression. Housebound in her New York City apartment, where she awaits the verdict on her future, Max recounts her version of the events that have brought her to this moment.
From her start as a precocious suburban child in the eighties to her decades as a workaholic visionary, Max proselytizes a sheer, dewy look—cosmetics through a female gaze—all while battling sexist investors, the whiplash of cultural change, and the mounting pressure to keep her sexuality a secret. But when Max’s story catches up to her present, she must contend with the cost of true transparency.
Told over nine intense days yet spanning a lifetime, Sheer is a gripping, incisive, and provocative tale of a complicated female vanguard’s insatiable drive and the slippery ground between empowerment and abuse of power.
It is impossible to be an ambitious woman. Max is born in 1975 and is inspired to create a beauty brand at the age of 6. She starts doing makeup for women in high school, then during college she is able to secure an angel investor which alters her course forever. It’s a cult-following beauty brand, and cult stories never end well, so they?
The entire time she is closeted. The narrative spans Max’s life from age 6 to age 40. Interspersed with a 9 day period in 2015, we are learning the formative experiences for her building her brand.
This story was so engaging and so realistic that only 30% of the way through the story I started searching the author to see if she had experience at a female entrepreneur unicorn company. Surely she worked at Away, at Glossier?? This story is a deep dive in those types of stories, you can create a culture and create a monster. This is such a powerful story; you will find no heroes or villains. Max is a compelling character. She is so very real.
I am filing this as historical fiction. We do love to put a female entrepreneur on a pedestal and then knock her off of it.
This is a very nuanced story with so many layers. And I promise you won’t be able to put it down. When I was watching the Pee Wee Herman documentary I couldn’t help but think that if he wasn’t closeted, it may have played out differently. This may be true for this fictional story as well.
This is sure to be one of the best LitFic books of 2026.
Thanks to NetGalley and Dutton for the ARC. Book to be published January 12, 2026.
It’s 2015, and Maxine is a Gen X success story. In the 90s and 2000s, she made headlines as the young founder of a trendy beauty brand. Her company, Reveal, was revolutionary for its light-touch products that showcased women’s natural beauty, and its edgy talking points, like the “post-orgasm glow” its cheek tint aims to create. But now the tides have shifted. Some sort of scandal has occurred, and the board is out for Maxine’s blood. As she waits to see if she’ll be ousted from the brand she founded, Maxine begins to write down her life story.
I really enjoyed this book. An aspect it absolutely nailed is the changing beauty and cultural trends from the 1980s until the mid-2010s. We see Maxine’s vision of natural beauty go from exciting and fresh to ho-hum, as the mid-2010s millennials embrace contoured everything. We also see how Maxine can go from fighting sexism to becoming a problematic boss, all while still thinking she’s in the right. Toward the end of the story, she becomes a bit of an unreliable narrator, and it’s a bit of a gut punch after rooting for her throughout the story…but it totally works. Most people who abuse their power were not born villainous, and neither was Maxine. She was shaped by the norms of her generation, the way she had to fight for success, and the corrupting power of wealth and privilege. She’s a complex character, and that’s what makes this book SO good. I definitely recommend it!
Quite the page turner about the cosmetics industry. Maxine Thomas is in her Central Park West apartment spending nine days waiting to see whether she will be ousted from Reveal, the makeup company she founded as a college student which is now a major player in the industry. While she waits she reminisces about how she started and what went wrong.
Ultimately this was some decent fluff and a whole bunch of people taking advantage of each other. I enjoyed reading getting an insider’s look at the cosmetics business (if the way it’s portrayed here is at all accurate,) otherwise just a beach book.
I first started reading Sheer months ago, but I kept losing interest and moving to another book, and then coming back to finish a few chapters before getting distracted again. I was drawn to this story because I love anything to do with the beauty industry, and this seemed like it would maybe take the form of an expose. The writing format was in a sort of memoir-like style, and as a certified memoir lover that should have worked well for me. I think what held me back from loving this story was the cold way it was told. It was almost like reciting facts about a life that has no ties to the one telling it. It didn’t feel like she was recounting her own experiences, the authentic “voice” was noticeably missing. The story itself was interesting to me, but it was hard to connect with what was happening when the writing style wasn’t clicking. I think people who connect more with an actual plot would enjoy this, but for people like me who value characters emotional depth and storytelling… it might be a skip.
Thanks to NetGalley for a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
I loved this- if it had been published last year, definitely would have been included in my Year of Evil Women video.
Maxine Thomas is a closeted woman running a makeup empire, using her desire for other women as inspiration behind highlighters, glosses, lip balms, and other products. Told over nine days, we begin with Max being ousted from the company she founded and awaiting her fate. As we dive into her past, Lawrence paints a picture of a ruthlessly ambitious, emotionally closed off workaholic- Betty Draper as girlboss.
Max's frigid emotional landscape becomes a battlefield, and was some of my favorite writing in the book. Lawrence clearly is an expert when it comes to makeup and women, and her writing about color, desire, beauty, and clothing is top notch, in addition to the vivid portrait of New York in the nineties and early aughts (my favorite time period to read about as a NYC native).
I loved this book because it's obvious Max is delusional, and while Lawrence convincingly brings us into her inner world, a woman who does not see herself is a woman who does not know herself. The felling of the mogul is inevitable, and Lawrence tells a story of a woman brought low after being on top- the modern Icarus story, and one we've seen time and time again with about a dozen women from the original girlboss era. It's an interesting line to thread, and I really enjoyed reading this book.
Sheer by Vanessa Lawrence unfolds like a fictional memoir, following Maxine as she recounts her rise from childhood ambition to the creation—and unraveling—of a cosmetics empire. As someone obsessed with all things beauty, I loved the behind the scenes look at building and maintaining a major cosmetics company; those details were fascinating and felt grounded and real. The novel has sharp, insightful commentary on women in business, womanhood, and the quiet, ever present misogyny that shapes success and failure. While the central reason for Maxine’s downfall is mostly withheld, it becomes clear if you’re paying attention, which I appreciated. That said, the ending ultimately felt lackluster to me, leaving too many questions unanswered and pulling some weight from an otherwise thoughtful, compelling read.
This book had me wanting to treat it like a business school case study while also questioning every makeup and skincare product I own. I loved how nuanced it was, it makes you wrestle with what it really takes to be successful (like in a big way). You know the main character has done something wrong, but the way she lays out her story makes you wonder if maybe she isn’t at fault. The push and pull of multiple timelines, and the way it exposes how messy accountability can get, had me glued to my kindle.
I did feel the ending was rushed. There’s so much more to explore in someone coming to terms with their actions. And honestly, it’s frustrating that a board full of rude, bigoted people gets to decide the fate of one singular bigoted person. It made me think about how tangled our culture of “accountability” has become. Cancel culture, power, who gets to judge…it’s messy. We can’t go back to the days when white men had everything handed to them, but I’m not sure the current system is fixing much either. At the end of the day, power still sits with the same groups. I don’t have the answers, but Vanessa Lawrence, you sure had me questioning a lot.
I loved getting this ARC copy in advance of the publishing date, I’m so curious to see the commentary when it does come out!
I actually really enjoyed this! though times have changed a lot since 2015, sadly a lot of the things regarding womanhood in this story are still true. I liked that the ending wasn’t the happy one that you’d expect. it ended on a more somber note which just reiterates the misogynistic issues highlighted throughout. the last 2 books I’ve read have had characters that lacked depth. Maxine was the total opposite. I felt like I KNEW her and felt all of what she was feeling. I also LOVEDDD the fictional autobiographical style that this had. similar to seven husbands in a way. this made me sad, angry, hopeful, and proud to be a woman all at the same time. STAND ON BUSINESS MAXINE!! 4/5!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I think when writing a pseudo-memoir, you have the opportunity to make it as sensational as your imagination allows. There was nothing sensational in here. I kept waiting for the juicy scandals, the jaw-dropping reveals, but they just never came. It was all very tame, and frankly a little boring.
"Sheer" tells the story of Maxine "Max", a beauty mogul on the brink of losing her cosmetic empire due to a scandal of immense proportions. Through flashbacks and recitations, she combs through how she came to this critical juncture; dissecting the past and questioning the future.
This had a lot of potential to be really interesting and thought-provoking. Going into this, I expected there to be a larger discussion of "cancel culture" or how dangerous social media can be, especially for women in power. Yet, I feel like there was something missing from this; some larger, grittier bit that would have pushed this over the edge.
What hurts this book the most, I fear, is the pacing. The aforementioned scandal does not become clear until the final chapters, and once it is, you begin to question all the history you waded through leading to that reveal. I'm all for suspense and creating tension, but at least give the reader some juicy tidbits to keep our interest going.
Even though the plot wasn't up to snuff, I will say the writing was pretty well done. There were actually some beautiful descriptive passages and good, poignant statements that helped keep me engaged. So, I'd say in this regard you have to take the meh with the good.
Overall, I'd say this was fine. It's not my cup of tea. Maybe others will enjoy it.
Thank you to NetGalley and Dutton for an ARC of this book!
i started this thinking it would be similar to american psycho (for some reason, i think the concept of CEO-focused “thriller” put me in that headspace) but really, it’s about a woman who just let herself get manipulated by everyone who thought they were better than her because they were of a different status, and she let it happen because she thought it was what she earned/deserved. i thought this was a really interesting concept and i loved the way that it was told in a significantly more intimate way than a lot of other books that center around the themes that this did. i started out the book really disliking maxine because of the way that she spoke about her life and the people around her, but she’s really a study of nurture over nature. you can see just how much potential for emotion that she had basically ripped away from her because everyone in her life told her to shove it down.
Thank you to NetGalley for the opportunity to read this!!
In the modern age of social media, visibility has become a form of currency, and authenticity a prized commodity. Modern institutions and markets reward those who can appear relatable and morally transparent – yet only within carefully curated boundaries. Vanessa Lawrence’s Sheer captures this increasingly apparent phenomenon, following Maxine Thomas, the founder and creative director of the cult beauty brand Reveal, as she navigates the costs of public scrutiny, corporate ambition, and personal concealment.
While Max is an unreliable narrator, her deeply flawed character makes this book compelling, forcing readers to grapple with the complexities of intersectionality across queerness, gender, race, and class. Her experiences feel especially relevant in today’s world of influencer culture, where personal identity is constantly curated, packaged, and marketed, and where brand deals promise that anyone can become the "ideal" version of themselves with the right product. Through Max, Sheer shows how authenticity, labor, and identity are not just personal - they are entangled with systems of profit and visibility, reminding us that the cost of being seen is often higher than we realize.
I received a free ARC of Sheer via NetGalley. This is a story told over nine days, as beauty industry visionary Maxine Thomas goes from powerhouse to ousted and betrayed, her future hinging on whether or not her company’s board decides to fire her. Her distress compels her to write a sort of autobiography, which intersperses scenes from 2015 with her childhood, upbringing, and development of her company. But hers isn’t a simple story of starting from the bottom and working her way up. Maxine is a closeted gay woman, who draws on her attraction to women to develop her makeup. Though her company, Reveal, is founded on the principle of emphasizing a woman’s beauty rather than concealing it, though Maxine is exclusively attracted to women, though Maxine writes extensively and with increasing vigor on the way misogyny affects her and her career, she seems to utterly hate women that she’s not attracted to. Women are either sexy or a travesty; well-dressed or worthless. Nose contour? Forget about it. These competing desires: to women, to be better than women, and to create visionary makeup products, compete in Maxine’s narrative to create an incredibly compelling narrative. The narration oscillates from beautiful and intimate to angry, betrayed, and insolent. I generally hesitate to use the words “unreliable narrator.” I feel that the words get overused often, and are often used incorrectly. That said, Maxine’s narration does cause a lot of questions. By the end, the answers to most of those questions are revealed (Revealed, haha), which is to say that I didn’t find it difficult to parse reality from Maxine’s story. So, whether that makes her an unreliable narrator or simply a biased one is up to you, I suppose. I liked this book! I found Lawrence’s writing engaging, comprehensive, and incredibly intentional. Overall, I give this book ⅘ stars. Full review here: https://dowdymusings.wordpress.com/20...
Thank you to NetGalley, author Vanessa Lawrence, and Penguin Group Dutton for providing me with a free ARC in exchange for my honest opinion!
I have really complicated feelings about this read-- so much so that I waited 5 days after I finished it to complete my review. For now, I'm sitting at a 2.5 rounded up to 3 rating. I was drawn in by the short book summary blurb, the cover, and the vibes that this seemed similar to a Glossier-type company fictional "tell all". It was truly a fictional memoir, one that took me a little bit to get into because you learn about Maxine's story/life as the book goes on, and obviously since she's fictional, I had zero prior knowledge at all. At first, I was wanting more of an established intro or story format vs diving right in to a fictional memoir, but once I caught on to the pacing, I was okay with it. By the end, I was invested in Maxine as a character and protagonist. She is a flawed character who makes lots of mistakes, some hard to read about and/or root for her. This doesn't necessarily fully impact my rating, but I do think I didn't connect with her as much as I was hoping because I found the pacing to drag on at times. I also thought her Gen X "girl boss" mindset was a bit grating at times and something I could have done without. I didn't realize this was going to be a queer story, and I think it was handled very interestingly. Some things I appreciated Lawrence shining a light on, such as the fact that Maxine had to stay closeted to succeed in that time, but I think she used her age/the time period to "justify" some harmful queer behaviors. Again, flawed character making flawed choices in a fictional story, so not the end of the world, but something that didn't always quite work for me. This was just a confusing book as a whole in the sense that to me, it both dragged and had me hooked, and I both disliked and rooted for Maxine. I don't regret reading it, but I do think it was a bit different than my expectations and not really something I'll be returning to.
Sheer's narrator, Maxine, is powerful, virile, judgmental, and deeply unreliable. In a narrative device similar to Nabokov's Lolita, Maxine, like Humbert Humbert, begins to unburden herself after an as-yet-unrevealed PR crisis involving her and Reveal, the cosmetics company that she founded. In what proves to be a quick, compulsive read, she discusses her origins and motivations, interspersed with present tense chapters detailing the nine days leading up to a Board Meeting that will determine her future in the beauty industry.
This book is tricky to review. Told entirely from Maxine's point of view, the weakness of the writing (clunky dialogue, a dearth of character development, occasionally purple prose, and barely-concealed plot devices) can be blamed--and based on this novel's smart structure, should be blamed--on Maxine herself. A narcissist, is it any wonder that most of the characters in her story play second fiddle to her own experiences?
Unfortunately, the narcissism goes both ways, displaying too few opportunities for self-reflection. By the time a plot twist that upends the narrative appears (in the final 10% of the book), many readers may have given up on Sheer. As an exercise in form and structure, this novel is brilliant, but the execution leaves something to be desired--perhaps the delicate satire that Nabokov employs to keep the reader from drowning in the muck and mire of Humbert's damning actions and unreliability. Maxine simply isn't likable or sympathetic enough to merit the second read that the scaffolding of this book deserves
Audiobook version. While the book itself was well-written, I wasn’t a fan of the story. Here we have Max, who I thought would be the hero and instead was the villain. It astounds me how obtuse and rigid she became as an adult when her upbringing required her to be flexible and insightful. She became oblivious to perspective, especially as she was met with more and more success. It’s unfortunate I didn’t like any of the characters. I wish I’d had someone to root for. At a certain point, the book started to lay Max’s story on pretty thick as a victim and being oblivious to the power dynamic she held over Amanda. While I think Max was done dirty by Ellen and the board, she took no accountability of any wrongdoing. Completely obtuse. And even after the whole Sly debacle, she never even acknowledged any wrongdoing or considered her inspiration may have been culturally appropriated and insensitive. What is this world? Overall, I kept getting closer to the end of the book with the story still going and didn’t feel like there would be a good wrap-up…any lessons learned or aha moments. Sure, she wanted to share her truth with Amanda, but again, it reeks of justification, not accountability. So instead, it feels like I read this whole book with…nothing to come out of it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Naivete meets dark obsession for ultimate femininity in this scorching tale. Maxine has a talent for knowing what the feminine gaze entails. So much so that she believes she's the only one who truly knows. Not men. Not the world. Much worse, not even other women.
How does she navigate a world constantly evolving and constantly telling her to change her perspective?
I loved this story for three reasons. One, it's the perspective of a Gen X woman stuck between the perspectives of Baby Boomer parents and colleagues and Millennial coworkers and strangers. Two, she's bullheaded in her demand that being queer makes her THE person yielding the key to femininity. Finally, the third reason is watching her destroy everything so easily, despite missing the lessons taught in the years leading up to her moment.
Thank you to NetGalley and Dutton Books for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Sheer by Vanessa Lawrence is a fictional autobiography of Maxine Thomas, and her rise and fall as the beauty mogul of company Reveal.
Being inside Maxine’s mind was such a journey - through her storytelling, we learn about her past and what shaped her to become the beauty founder she is. She is driven, relentless, and above all, flawed. As a makeup lover myself, I couldn’t help but notice the parallels between Reveal and Glossier throughout the novel:
Though the book’s story was slow moving, told in chapters over 9 days in the present and weaving in stories from the past, I found myself completely immersed in Maxine’s story. Even if I was not surprised by where this book went, I enjoyed the journey to get there and found myself unable to put it down. Lawrence’s first-person narration of Maxine is a triumph, through the good, bad and the ugly. If there’s one bias I have, it’s my love for a problematic and flawed female lead, and Maxine fits this perfectly.
Definitely recommended reading when this officially releases early 2026.
4 stars for Sheer. I was invested in the plot throughout the book but I thought the ending was very rushed. I wished there were a few chapters following the reveal of why Max was suspended from Reveal and whether she makes a comeback.
Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Group Dutton for the advanced copy. Sheer hits shelves on January 13, 2026.
This book surprised me! Great way to kick off the year. What starts as a clear criticism of beauty standards and patriarchal corporations quickly twists into a seething portrait of the main characters gaze and abuse of power. I did not see it coming--and it paid off.
Hate to say it, but this was a slog of a read for me. I didn’t like the protagonist, and the story bored me to tears. The one positive I’ll give it is that it was set in the world of a makeup brand, and I love makeup! This one just didn’t do it for me, book pals. None of the characters were likable, relatable, or fully fleshed out enough for me. I hate giving books two stars, so I thought about this one long and hard but ultimately had to be honest. The writing was fine- no issues with the actual composition. Thank you to netgalley, the publisher, and the author for sending me this ARC.
This was SUCH a brilliant page-turner and just perfect for Glossier and Into the Gloss (or Glossy by Marisa Meltzer) enjoyers. I was thrilled to find at a launch event that Vanessa did actually read Into the Gloss for research and was fascinated by Glossy, which came out when she was doing revisions for Sheer. I was also shocked that Glossy *wasn’t* part of the research for this book, because the talented and tortured “natural, dewy beauty” enterpreneur story (along with her conflicting marketing hurdles and DEI scandals) felt so familiar and *real*. It’s like Sheer was a Glossier’s enigmatic, more precise (fictional) predecessor from before the days of internet blogging. The (often historical) backdrop of this book throughout decades of pop culture, media and trends is highly entertaining and vivid, and the descriptions of makeup textures and effects are indulgent and delightful.
The writing style is so engaging and (as per Carolyn Ferrell’s words in the launch event) in confessional, almost 19th century style. Brutally honest and impossible to put down. I discovered the book itself initially through Netgalley but the ARC had been sitting in my Kindle for months—only to literally wrench me out of my reading block as soon as I picked it up, entirely coincidentally the day before release. I gobbled it up in two days (so I finished day of release, and got to immediately watch the event on YouTube!), and spent the entirety of the book highlighting parts that made my head buzz from complex interpretations of Max’s thoughts. The realisation that she is not, in fact, a reliable narrator at all hit me like a suckerpunch during the last 30%, after which I started questioning nearly everything I had read. (I was tickled by the admission that Vanessa Lawrence herself has no idea on what parts are fabricated by Max—She also knows only Max’s narration. I love to hear about this level of immersion from authors, and I was barely surprised by the admission.) Besides being the usual (yet rare) female entrepreneur story with cautionary undertones and a fight for relevence against age (the dreaded four-oh), Max’s being queer shifts *everything* … and makes it several times more interesting.
There is a lot of generational trauma in this book. Max’s outlook in life is shaped by the kind of adult woman she wants—and doesn’t want—to be based on her parents. Innately, she is highly driven and wishes to be exceptional. Unlike her mother, she never wants to be financially dependant on men (but is haunted by the fact that her brand, Reveal, is financed entirely by the worst kind of men). She vows to never succumb to inauthenticity and unrealistic beauty standards, and she might not wear heavy makeup but as she grows she sacrifices every material pleasure to preserve her skin and body’s youth, often identically to her mom. She also judges women who don’t perform femininity that she personally believes to be “real”, as opposed to fake and patriarchal. She hates that the makeup industry (again, often run by men, based on patriarchal desires) shames women’s natural bodies—but then she does the same to women whose natural proclivities are towards colour and drama in makeup, based on Max’s own desires of the idealised, “liberated”, beautiful woman. Is the authoritarian tone any different when it comes from a woman? Max makes poignant statements about how lesbians are treated as dirty and dangerous (especially when gender nonconforming) in contrast to gay men (and that straight women and gay men in the industry are so competitive against one another they barely even like women like she does). And yet, she herself has no respect for drag culture and legacies—in fact, as a cis (soft) butch she not only can’t relate to how diversely femmes internally *feel* about makeup as self expression, she is also barely aware of any makeup consumers outside of cis feminine women … who also happen to be the object of her personal desires.
Reveal’s entire motto is authenticity—natural makeup that “enhances, doesn’t cover” (though we must wonder if there is *any* kind of paint that doesn’t cover *something*) … yet Max is extremely closeted as a high profile figure, even after marriage equality is achieved in New York. Her paranoia that coming out would ruin her brand’s success is influenced by the plenty of abuse and harassment (emotional as well as physical) she faced from authority figures as well as peers (starting from her parents and friends as a child, to her company stakeholders as an adult). Specific pieces of the emotional plot were difficult for me to put together, but they magically fell into place when I heard Vanessa herself speak about the book. A point that particularly struck me was that—Not only was Max’s extreme compartmentalization unhealthy for her mental health, but her not being able to have a normal, liberated personal life and subsequently forcing zero work/life balance, then aiming her sexual experiences *back into her work* where it absolutely does not belong … led to her ultimately falling into a product marketing campaign that was morally unjustifiable. Initially of course, I found it genius and very sapphic and poetic that she developed products based on her lovers’ postcoital glow—and how she was able to run away from standards of consent around that since she never had a long term relationship. The way the products got more and more personal to her partners were, indeed, a slo-mo trainwreck.
(Slight spoilers going forward.) Throughout the book, Max is certainly very … well, white. (Surely her disinterest in gender diversity intersect here.) The gaze through which she views her brown muses is for sure just slightly more “othering” than how she viewed the white ones for product inspo. This glaring subjectification vs objectification dynamic is where her being masc4femme REALLY intrigued me. As she grew older and more resentful of how society puts an expiry date on women, it led to her increased bitterness towards DEI, an aggressively millennial venture—even though she had been so progressive in her own generation. This echoes how feminism, a movement never free of internalised tensions, sidelined women of her mother’s generation as well by making stay-at-home wives and mothers less respectable, forcing them to try to exert relevance through criticism and emotionally manipulating younger folks. In addition, Max criticized how business was soaked in masculine shows of power such as blatant intimidation. Max’s first conquest as a young college student seeking legitimacy and maturity was a brown woman many years her senior. Caroline ended the relationship when she realised Max’s age and that she had completely unintentionally groomed Max, just a little bit. In many ways, Caroline remained “the one that got away” and Max’s only long-term relationship. There was a deep and dark narrative satisfaction when Max, in her thirties, herself purposefully pursued a much younger brown woman, continuing a complex dynamic involving *both* the masculine and feminine cycle of abuse of power she herself had experienced in the industry. (The involvement of an impeccably bright Asian American brown baddie was somehow the cherry on top. I am surrounded by so many iterations of Amanda in real life.)
I realised as I read the epilogue that all the energy I had used to grasp at the threads of meaning woven through the book were all going to be beautifully confessed and explained. (Very validating for me as a reader—like finally learning whodunnit.) The ending was so, so good. There were so many sentences throughout the book that were deliciously meta, or simply highly quotable. I don’t usually take notes while reading but for this novel, I had to. Sheer feels so essential to any sapphic reading list that I am appalled it didn’t exist until today. It’s an incredibly culturally relevant read in the late 2020s, and I am running, not walking, to pick up Vanessa’s debut novel, Ellipses, which appears to be a rhyming story from the PoV of the bisexual, brown, and highly anxious Asian American abusee.
Thank you to Netgalley, Dutton and the author for an e-ARC!
Sheer follows the rise and fall of makeup mogul Maxine Thomas. The chapters alternate between present day and the progression of her younger years until the two meet at the end of the book. The story addresses issues such as sexism, power and privilege and throughout the book, Maxine has to prove her worth as a woman. Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Group Dutton for the ARC.
I was drawn to Sheer because of the premise; I thought following this ambitious, successful, probably flawed woman would be fascinating. Unfortunately, the style and structure of this book didn’t work for me.
The book is written like a memoir of the narrator, Max, recounting her early life and how she built her beauty brand. Despite this confessional format, I felt like the narrator was at arm’s length the entire time. She describes everything very coldly and clinically. Much of the book consists of telling the reader things instead of showing them. As the book develops, we see more how unreliable she is, but it almost feels like it doesn’t matter because her emotional experiences so rarely make it onto the page.
I liked seeing how a queer woman navigated her life in the 80s and 90s, though I would’ve liked to see more of Max’s feelings about being closeted and never being in a serious relationship. We don’t really know if she feels sad, conflicted, or totally okay about hiding her sexuality. Although she has a slew of hookups, most of these seem to have very little effect on her (aside from serving as inspiration for her business). Max rarely displays vulnerability in these pages, which is fine for crafting a caricature, less so in a literary novel aiming to explore the motivations and complexities of a businesswoman.
The author withholds the details of the inciting event until the very end, which frustrated me. We know that Max is facing a board vote that could remove her from the company, but we don’t know why or what led up to this. Personally, I didn’t enjoy waiting until the end to know the details, though some readers might be fine with this structure.
I received an ARC from Dutton via NetGalley for an honest review.
The good is that this book had great commentary on the beauty industry, queer experience, power dynamics, misogyny, women in the workplace, and even a little bit about fetishization of Asian Americans and other “exotic races,” as the book says. The neutral is that this book could barely hold my attention. I am not interested in the minutiae of running a beauty company and creating and launching products, and it was tough to slog through that to get to the meat of the story! It’s also almost impossible to find one fully likeable character in these pages, which puts a damper on the whole reading experience. Overall, this is not a bad book by any means, and I’m glad I read it but it took more effort to stay engaged than I expected.
Thank you so much to NetGalley and Penguin Dutton for the opportunity to read a eARC in exchange for a thoughtful review. Sheer is a fascinating book and one that I found extremely engaging to read, even if it was imperfect. The narrative is presented as a memoir being written by the main character, Max(ine) Thomas, whose career is falling apart after a scandal that we learn more about as the plot progresses. We hear Max recount her career as she leads us up to the final moment, where we find out which direction her future will take and what the consequences will be for her actions.
There is a lot that Sheer does very well. For one, the voice is strong and we really get a sense of Max as a character and an understanding of where her hostility and guardedness comes from. Still, you do get the sense early on that she may not be a reliable narrator of events. The reveal at the end of the book regarding Amanda, for example, felt foreshadowed because of the language Max uses to describe Amanda early on in their relationship. I also think Sheer has a lot of valuable things to say about the experience of being a queer woman when it wasn't fashionable to be a queer woman and what that means in an age of online media where broadcasting the labels associated with your identity has become a form of social currency. There is an inherent tension between Max and the women younger than her that she can never quite smooth out because her perspective is so tied to her experience.
I thought the author did a solid job at hinting that something might be missing from Max's recounting of the events involving she and Amanda, without hitting you over the head with specifics too early. The dualing perspectives between Amanda and Max both feel grounded and true to their characters. Since the book is on the shorter side, I did think that some of the side character plots suffered from lack of air. Ellen was central to the action but I never felt emotionally connected to her story or impacted by her choices. The role of race in the story also felt, at times, a bit shallow. I wanted Max to be forced to reckon a little more with the version of herself that she was presented with, particularly with regard to her lack of intersectionality.
Sheer does owe a lot of its DNA to other lesbian narratives, I thought a lot about the movie Tár while reading this book, and those similarities did help me predict the "twist" in the last pages. I was hoping the author would take things in a different direction, but nothing felt unearned or out of left field. All in all, I was left wanting more from Sheer, but what the book does give us is definitely wildly entertaining and, on a more serious level, presents a perspective on girlboss feminism, lesbian identity, and power dynamics that is well worth reading and engaging with. 3.75/5.