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I wonder how debilitating her "depression" was, if she was still able to secure a book deal and travel around the world.
Sounds like another Chicken Soup for the Soul kind of nonsense. Italian being "more beautiful than roses" is the type of line that has me reaching for the sick bag. The lines of text sound like the (painfully histrionic) travails of 18 year old's first big trip abroad. I wonder if her experience would have been as rewarding if she wasn't keeping it all for publication.
I feel "depressed" when I read about another self-congratulatory memoir when there must be books of quality and insight available to review instead.