How Does Ava Dellaira Portray Sisterhood In Love Letters To The Dead?

I'm still stuck on the Judy Garland letter. The pressure of being a child star, of performing happiness for a demanding audience, of having your childhood commodified... Laurel maps that onto her own experience of being the 'good sister' after the 'troubled' one dies, of performing normalcy for her aunt and school. It's a devastatingly sharp analogy. The letter format lets her draw that extended comparison without it feeling like a textbook analogy. It unfolds naturally as she thinks it through on the page, with wrong turns and corrections. You see the moment of connection happen in real time.

My copy has dates at the top of each letter. That's your guide. Start with the earliest date and proceed to the latest. It's that simple. The entire narrative is anchored to a school year, so the dates keep you oriented. Follow the calendar Laurel follows.

Laurel's letters in 'Love Letters to the Dead' are her way of grappling with grief and guilt after her sister May's death. Writing to dead celebrities like Kurt Cobain and Amy Winehouse lets her voice things she can't say to living people—it's safer, like talking to ghosts who won't judge or abandon her. The letters start as a school assignment but morph into a lifeline, a diary where she unpacks traumatic memories bit by bit. What’s heartbreaking is how she uses these one-sided conversations to avoid confronting her family’s pain. She idolizes the dead (especially May) while punishing herself for surviving. The letters slowly reveal her sister’s struggles with mental health and Laurel’s own role in May’s downward spiral. By the end, the act of writing becomes less about escaping and more about healing—she finally writes to May directly, facing the truth instead of hiding behind famous names.

I admired how it handled the topic of mental illness indirectly. May’s struggles and the celebrities’ tragedies hint at depression, addiction, and the systems that fail people. Laurel’s grief is mixed with a desperate need to understand ‘why,’ which is often unanswered. Healing, in this context, involves accepting the lack of a satisfying ‘why.’ It’s about making peace with ambiguity and focusing on the ‘what now’ instead of the ‘why then.’ That’s a mature, difficult lesson the book gently leads its protagonist (and reader) toward.

It's a very 'millennial/older Gen Z' take on healing, steeped in pop culture as a framework for understanding life. For people who grew up defining their emotions through song lyrics and celebrity personas, this method of self-discovery via cultural projection feels incredibly authentic. The theme is about using the stories we consume as tools to decode our own. Laurel uses these tragic celebrities as mirrors, then lenses, and finally, as stepping stones to move beyond them. Healing is framed as a process of cultural digestion—taking in the media that shapes us and learning to separate its narratives from our own unique experience.

The physicality of grief and trauma is portrayed so well—the nausea, the numbness, the feeling of your body not being your own. Laurel describes these sensations in her letters. This grounds the 'issues' in a visceral, real-life experience. It's not just abstract sadness; it's a physiological state. This attention to the mind-body connection makes the psychological issues feel immediate and undeniable, something many clinical discussions miss.