Mona Awad’s skin seems to glow—even through the video screen. Maybe it’s the product of good genes, or an expensive serum, or both. Or maybe I’m still just so wrapped up in the world of her latest novel, which The Guardian describes as being “like drowning in poison” but which I’d say is more like descending a dark staircase with no clue when you’ll reach the bottom step.

Rouge, which released on September 12, follows Belle: a skincare-obsessed dress shop attendant who, after the sudden death of her mother, finds herself twisting deeper and deeper into the depths of her own mind.

“I know that’s where the possibilities lie, really: in the dark,” Awad says when I ask why the shadowy stories are the ones she gravitates towards telling. “A moment of despair, a moment of anxiety, a moment of fear—you can spin and spin and go in all these directions in your head. It’s almost like happiness, in some ways, is sort of a static place, and actually darkness is a place where there’s more movement.”

Rouge is a work of fiction, but like so many writers, Awad excavates pieces of her own identity and puts them into the work. Belle is from Montreal; so is Awad. Belle’s Egyptian father was absent from her life; so, for the most part, was Awad’s. Belle is obsessed with YouTube skincare videos; so is Awad. On that last point, she acknowledges it was actually the impetus for the whole book.

“It went on for months; I couldn’t stop watching them and I bought all the products, even though I could not afford to buy such products,” she says. “What I started paying attention to, and where my creativity really started getting involved, is that I knew it was about more than just the products; I knew it was about way more than just skincare. Something was happening to me. They’re very mesmerizing. And there are a lot of anxieties and darker feelings that I think those videos bring up in us, and brought up in me, so I really wanted to dig into those.”

I ask if the act of writing the book helped her kick the habit and she shakes her head. At first she did stop, she says, mostly because after going down the “very gothic rabbit hole” of Rouge she couldn’t bear to watch any. But then it came time to write about her obsession for a few magazines, and she revisited the material.

“I thought I was going to be so cynical and was going to be so bored watching the videos, but I got sucked right back in completely and was watching them nonstop and ordering products again—the whole thing,” she admits. “So, it’s real. I would never discount the power and promise of beauty.”

Which, really, is what lies at the core of Rouge. Upon arriving in San Diego, where her late mother lived, Belle discovers a cult-like skincare spa that forces her to confront her own demons; the recurring theme of the mirror acts as a reflection not just of her face, but of the discomfort in her own body that bubbles beneath. As she sorts through her grief, she begins to unpack her complicated relationship with her mother, as well as her confusing relationship with her own identity. Written in loping, breathless prose that grows more chilling the deeper you go, Rouge is gothic fairytale meets seething cultural critique.

“The surface is concealing great depths—any obsession with the surface is more about something going on deep, deep, deep inside us,” says Awad, who is also the author of Bunny, All’s Well, and 13 Ways of Looking at a Fat Girl. “So I really wanted to go deep beneath the skin to what might have shaped this longing, this fixation, in the first place.”

It’s hard to write too much about Rouge, which truly had me guessing how things would end until the very last page, without giving something away. All I’ll say is it’s a trip you have to want to take, but if you do, you’ll come away illuminated—and maybe luminous.

Mona Awad will be appearing at three events for the Vancouver Writers Fest: She’s A Scream on October 18; Mona Awad in Conversation on October 19; and Smells Like… 90s Lyrics Night on October 19.