New author M.E. Evans debuts with a profoundly intimate and wildly entertaining portrait of a young woman trying to cope with life’s lemons by drowning herself in limoncello.

If you’ve ever set foot in a foreign country or picked up a travel memoir you probably think you already know what M.E. Evans’ Naked (in Italy) is about: a dreamy personal account of the life-altering beauty that is Italy. And sure, that’s in there, nestled somewhere between the bruised ego, chronic depression, vagina paintings, a boyfriend with billowing chest hair and a mother-in-law who forcibly irons your underwear.

When she studies abroad in Florence after her brother’s death, Evans envisions starting over and becoming the kind of woman known for some vague unnamed success, like the ones in movies who have cocktail parties with friends named Gregory Something the Third. Instead, she realizes that personal growth isn’t rainbows and unicorns because unfortunately no matter where you go, there you are.

With Naked (in Italy), Evans questions the myth of la dolce vita and reveals the struggle of fitting in and being an outsider when all you really want is a seat at the table (preferably one where your new mother-in-law isn’t hurling pans nearby). But this isn’t a sad book: Evans’ journey is incredibly funny as she marries the tragedy and hilarity of the human condition as only she can. Evans’ wit, compassion, and vulnerability make reading this book a rarely authentic experience. You’ll cry, you’ll cackle, and you’ll want Evans to be your best friend.

This is a memoir for people who crave honest storytelling and who enjoy a good laugh with their pathos. Naked (in Italy) is heartbreaking, brilliantly funny, and the perfect book to help you feel better about your own crazy family.