It is slightly surprising that this book is as good as it is, given what it is attempting. Baxter combines a painfully sharp - in the funniest way - study of the messy psychology of making art with a broader social critique of how women are patronised, boxed in and denied gravitas in the scene. This means balancing a narrative around her protagonist's anxiety spiralling her out of control - often played for laughs - with a narrative about how difficult it is for her to be taken seriously and claim her power. Somehow, it really, really works, making this a fun, if chaotic, read that never fails its characters. The book is propelled by the same frenetic energy that captures its main character - who is beside herself as her latest exhibition opening approaches - 
I suspect I would have liked it a great deal more if I knew the art scene being satirised, or even had artists as a part of world. But as someone uneasy around conceptual art, I still found it a great read. And maybe I know a little more now!