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Dear Dad: You're Dead, Dear Dead: You're Dad: Poems, Essays, and Reflections from a Youngest Daughter
Poems, essays, and reflections from a youngest daughter
In what began as a letter to her deceased father, Dear Dad: You’re Dead, Dear Dead: You’re Dad was only ever supposed to be a therapy experiment—a way to hold space for the grief, anger, and every little emotion in between that felt as if it were bleeding into every facet of freshman author Audrey Jean’s life.
Now, in her first collection of poetry, she aims to take that space and transform it into more than just a reminder of what might have—could have, should have—been. Blending together her family’s and her personal past, Audrey’s poems twist and adapt humor with hurt, pain with purpose, and tarot with transformation. Dear You’re Dead, Dear You’re Dad brings together an ache for healing, a need to reconcile that which can only be done by herself, and a desire to grow and learn who she is without the shadows of her father, forefathers, and fictional fathers in her way.
In what began as a letter to her deceased father, Dear Dad: You’re Dead, Dear Dead: You’re Dad was only ever supposed to be a therapy experiment—a way to hold space for the grief, anger, and every little emotion in between that felt as if it were bleeding into every facet of freshman author Audrey Jean’s life.
Now, in her first collection of poetry, she aims to take that space and transform it into more than just a reminder of what might have—could have, should have—been. Blending together her family’s and her personal past, Audrey’s poems twist and adapt humor with hurt, pain with purpose, and tarot with transformation. Dear You’re Dead, Dear You’re Dad brings together an ache for healing, a need to reconcile that which can only be done by herself, and a desire to grow and learn who she is without the shadows of her father, forefathers, and fictional fathers in her way.
- GenresPoetry
106 pages, Kindle Edition
Published March 3, 2024
13 people want to read
About the author
Audrey Jean
1 book16 followersAudrey Jean (she/her) knew she was going to be an author one day, she just wasn’t sure how. Or when. Let alone of what. When she’s not writing something or other, you can usually find her trying to make a dent in her ever-growing TBR pile, working on training her cats to take walks, or stewing over a new cookbook with flour inevitably streaked over her front.
If that doesn’t work, look in the mirror, spin around twice while saying, “Do you want to watch the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice?” and she’ll show up behind you with a bottle of wine, ready to go.
If that doesn’t work, look in the mirror, spin around twice while saying, “Do you want to watch the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice?” and she’ll show up behind you with a bottle of wine, ready to go.
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
March 3, 2024
Happy book publishing day to meeee. I'm absolutely giving myself five stars; so many rounds of edits and changes, long (internal) discussions about what was too vulnerable and what needed to be said, and days spent looking at my notebook wondering whether I'd ever be rid of the voice in the back of my head saying it wasn't "good enough" went into this book, and now she's here and I couldn't be prouder of it.
I wrote this book for me, but I also wrote this book for anyone who's had a conflicted or difficult relationship with their parent. For anyone who was made to feel not "good enough" and still struggles with telling that voice to go to hell. For anyone who is rediscovering what it means to be Themselves and not a facsimile of their parent's parent's trauma.
Or just for people who, like me, enjoy the drama of publishing a book unapologetically dedicated to the memory of a man who never knew what it meant to be proud of someone else unless they were useful to him, published on his birthday.
I wrote this book for me, but I also wrote this book for anyone who's had a conflicted or difficult relationship with their parent. For anyone who was made to feel not "good enough" and still struggles with telling that voice to go to hell. For anyone who is rediscovering what it means to be Themselves and not a facsimile of their parent's parent's trauma.
Or just for people who, like me, enjoy the drama of publishing a book unapologetically dedicated to the memory of a man who never knew what it meant to be proud of someone else unless they were useful to him, published on his birthday.
February 3, 2024
Thought-provoking and heart-wrenching, this collection of poetry broke me down into little pieces and read like a conversation with my therapist in the best way possible.
This book is for anyone who's ever felt unloved, not-enough, and through it all, proud of who you've become after the wreckage. A must read.
This book is for anyone who's ever felt unloved, not-enough, and through it all, proud of who you've become after the wreckage. A must read.
March 13, 2024
"A dresser filled with clothes
that hang off the bones
of a man half his weight and twice his ego."
— rooms you might find in my father's house
The specific has a way of becoming the universal. "Dear Dad: You're Dead / Dear Dead: You're Dad" is a deeply affecting debut collection where the grief of a younger daughter over her father's passing could be about any grief over a loved one whose past behavior might be more easily mined for therapy sessions than saintly, tear-jerking eulogies. An inventive collage of poetry, essays, and images that chronicle the effects of daring to grow up a girl in the home of a difficult patriarch, the book ends up having as much to say about American masculinity and the non-linear journey of therapy as it does grief and mourning.
Speaking of mourning, this book features two eulogies. One with the subtitle "Eulogy for my father given January, 2020" and the other "The eulogy I never gave." Audrey's writing captures the nuances of her dual grief— both the grief of her father's passing and the grief of the father he chose to be whilst living. It's a coolly fiery, heart-wrenching duality that sustains the whole collection with unflinching vulnerability. Through childhood memories of being berated for not fitting into clothes that her father picked out without confirming, through poems about therapy sessions and recognizing the scars and fears one's child self carries well into a fully capable adulthood, through essays on media fandom and grief and our culture's dismissive prescription of "daddy issues" on young women whose complexities deserve more than that simple, derisive accounting.
There is a charming messiness to the ordering of this collection. We read short, formally inventive poems alongside longer essay exploring the same subject matter. It's a journey that introduces us to the father Audrey is mourning, alongside glimpses of the culture and community that this kind of fatherhood existed in. We get to observe not just Audrey's own memories and reflections, but also come to know the characters and attitudes that fostered or survived these casual toxicities. At times I felt as though I lived in those houses, ate at those dinners, plucked the same books from the shelves. There's an approachability to Audrey's writing that doesn't feel pretentious or reaching; when given a choice she always chooses visceral honesty.
Who would like this collection, and why should they read it? I might be biased since these were collections I read around the same time, but I think readers who enjoyed the father-daughter dynamics and interrogations of masculinity in Jenny Liu's phenomenal Muscle Memory would appreciate this book, which is somewhat of a midwestern version, focused more on media fandom where Liu did boxing and poetry. In mood, this collection reminded me a bit of Louise Gluck's Ararat — there's something wintry and bare and plain-spoken about both these books, with its shared lucid recounting of American family, though Audrey Jean's style has more of the colorful clutter of lived-in memorabilia than that of Gluck's distilled, masterfully kept farmhouse.
I am a friend of Audrey's and therefore inclined to like it, but I think there is much to recommend in this collection even if you don't share the gift of her friendship or (in my case) a particular understanding of poetry. It's an experience you can sink into for an afternoon, and go to bed with a number of new lines captured in your commonplace book, and a few more thoughts and prickly emotions swirling around your head. Plus, you get to support independent poetry and writing from someone who's been a fantastic pillar of the book community for many years. What more could you ask?
that hang off the bones
of a man half his weight and twice his ego."
— rooms you might find in my father's house
The specific has a way of becoming the universal. "Dear Dad: You're Dead / Dear Dead: You're Dad" is a deeply affecting debut collection where the grief of a younger daughter over her father's passing could be about any grief over a loved one whose past behavior might be more easily mined for therapy sessions than saintly, tear-jerking eulogies. An inventive collage of poetry, essays, and images that chronicle the effects of daring to grow up a girl in the home of a difficult patriarch, the book ends up having as much to say about American masculinity and the non-linear journey of therapy as it does grief and mourning.
Speaking of mourning, this book features two eulogies. One with the subtitle "Eulogy for my father given January, 2020" and the other "The eulogy I never gave." Audrey's writing captures the nuances of her dual grief— both the grief of her father's passing and the grief of the father he chose to be whilst living. It's a coolly fiery, heart-wrenching duality that sustains the whole collection with unflinching vulnerability. Through childhood memories of being berated for not fitting into clothes that her father picked out without confirming, through poems about therapy sessions and recognizing the scars and fears one's child self carries well into a fully capable adulthood, through essays on media fandom and grief and our culture's dismissive prescription of "daddy issues" on young women whose complexities deserve more than that simple, derisive accounting.
There is a charming messiness to the ordering of this collection. We read short, formally inventive poems alongside longer essay exploring the same subject matter. It's a journey that introduces us to the father Audrey is mourning, alongside glimpses of the culture and community that this kind of fatherhood existed in. We get to observe not just Audrey's own memories and reflections, but also come to know the characters and attitudes that fostered or survived these casual toxicities. At times I felt as though I lived in those houses, ate at those dinners, plucked the same books from the shelves. There's an approachability to Audrey's writing that doesn't feel pretentious or reaching; when given a choice she always chooses visceral honesty.
Who would like this collection, and why should they read it? I might be biased since these were collections I read around the same time, but I think readers who enjoyed the father-daughter dynamics and interrogations of masculinity in Jenny Liu's phenomenal Muscle Memory would appreciate this book, which is somewhat of a midwestern version, focused more on media fandom where Liu did boxing and poetry. In mood, this collection reminded me a bit of Louise Gluck's Ararat — there's something wintry and bare and plain-spoken about both these books, with its shared lucid recounting of American family, though Audrey Jean's style has more of the colorful clutter of lived-in memorabilia than that of Gluck's distilled, masterfully kept farmhouse.
I am a friend of Audrey's and therefore inclined to like it, but I think there is much to recommend in this collection even if you don't share the gift of her friendship or (in my case) a particular understanding of poetry. It's an experience you can sink into for an afternoon, and go to bed with a number of new lines captured in your commonplace book, and a few more thoughts and prickly emotions swirling around your head. Plus, you get to support independent poetry and writing from someone who's been a fantastic pillar of the book community for many years. What more could you ask?
March 18, 2024
I was fortunate enough to go to the book launch event for this book at my local Indie bookstore. I was not only able to meet the offer, but listen to her read a couple of her poems from her book. She had such an amazing energy and was truly an enigmatic soul.
This body of work was truly inspiring not only to myself, but to my partner. We were able to take her work and put it to some of the traumas that we have both dealt with in our lives that maybe we didn’t want to face. She has inspired me to start writing poetry again in the healing journey that I am on. These poems and different pieces of material had such emotion, and the poetry really made the reader flow into her actual train of thought in these pieces.
This body of work was truly inspiring not only to myself, but to my partner. We were able to take her work and put it to some of the traumas that we have both dealt with in our lives that maybe we didn’t want to face. She has inspired me to start writing poetry again in the healing journey that I am on. These poems and different pieces of material had such emotion, and the poetry really made the reader flow into her actual train of thought in these pieces.
March 21, 2024
You know the books you read a few pages of and just know it's going to be amazing? This is one of those! You won't regret this read.
May 1, 2024
I picked this book up on Indie Book Store day, drawn in by the cover art, and then hooked by the blurb on the back, I quickly found myself completely absorbed in this beautiful piece of art.
As someone who had a father who inspired large parts of my anxiety when he was alive, Audrey's words touched very deep parts of my heart, and kept me reeling throughout. You wouldn't think it should take 3+ days to read 90 pages, but the words demanded to be sat with. To be internalized. To be carried. And be acknowledged.
I'll close with one of the lines that hit me hardest, from "when do we stop counting?"
"What is the past if not your father's voice in your ear whispering when you mess up?"
As someone who had a father who inspired large parts of my anxiety when he was alive, Audrey's words touched very deep parts of my heart, and kept me reeling throughout. You wouldn't think it should take 3+ days to read 90 pages, but the words demanded to be sat with. To be internalized. To be carried. And be acknowledged.
I'll close with one of the lines that hit me hardest, from "when do we stop counting?"
"What is the past if not your father's voice in your ear whispering when you mess up?"
March 26, 2024
This is for anyone who sees functional families and doesn't quite understand and is envious at the same time. For anyone who tells a "funny" family story of something that happened, only to have sideeye and "x... thats not normal wtf are you okay". The recognition that not only our own experience is valid, but that we've done nothing to deserve the treatment or the voices that nurture has given us.
Growing up with the backhanded, quid pro quo compliments and comments, is something I'm very familiar with. And something that I'm recognizing every day that others are as well and while I hate that for others, I'm grateful for the comradery that can exist because of it. And books like this.
The two eulogies we're given in the book, hit so close to the heart with how I anticipate my families passing (albeit it not now, but whenever it is they pass) - only Audrey is brave enough to have written both and given the one, where as I likely will just remain silent willingly, and burn anything I potentially write.
This feels like I need to lay on the floor after a therapy session, without the therapy session cost. In the best way possible.
Growing up with the backhanded, quid pro quo compliments and comments, is something I'm very familiar with. And something that I'm recognizing every day that others are as well and while I hate that for others, I'm grateful for the comradery that can exist because of it. And books like this.
The two eulogies we're given in the book, hit so close to the heart with how I anticipate my families passing (albeit it not now, but whenever it is they pass) - only Audrey is brave enough to have written both and given the one, where as I likely will just remain silent willingly, and burn anything I potentially write.
This feels like I need to lay on the floor after a therapy session, without the therapy session cost. In the best way possible.
March 8, 2024
All I can say is WOW! What started as Audrey's way of coping turned into this incredible collection that hits you right in the feels.
Audrey's writing is as real as it gets—she doesn't hold back on the messy stuff. She dives headfirst into the whirlwind of emotions that come with losing someone that had such a large impact on her life in the best and worst ways. But what's cool about this book is how Audrey balances it all with a touch of humor. Even in the saddest and most raw moments, she manages to sneak in a laugh or two.
She doesn't just talk about her own journey, though. Audrey digs into her family's history and how it shapes her own story. It's like peeking behind the curtain and seeing all the messy, beautiful connections that make up a family.
What really got me hooked was Audrey's quest for understanding and growth. Her thoughts on tarot, transformation, and finding her place in the world are super thought-provoking.
Dear Dad: You're Dead isn't just a book—it's a ride. Audrey Jean takes you on this journey of healing and self-discovery that'll leave you feeling all kinds of things. If you're looking for a book that's equal parts heartache and hope, this is it. Trust me, you won't regret diving into these pages.
Audrey's writing is as real as it gets—she doesn't hold back on the messy stuff. She dives headfirst into the whirlwind of emotions that come with losing someone that had such a large impact on her life in the best and worst ways. But what's cool about this book is how Audrey balances it all with a touch of humor. Even in the saddest and most raw moments, she manages to sneak in a laugh or two.
She doesn't just talk about her own journey, though. Audrey digs into her family's history and how it shapes her own story. It's like peeking behind the curtain and seeing all the messy, beautiful connections that make up a family.
What really got me hooked was Audrey's quest for understanding and growth. Her thoughts on tarot, transformation, and finding her place in the world are super thought-provoking.
Dear Dad: You're Dead isn't just a book—it's a ride. Audrey Jean takes you on this journey of healing and self-discovery that'll leave you feeling all kinds of things. If you're looking for a book that's equal parts heartache and hope, this is it. Trust me, you won't regret diving into these pages.
January 1, 2024
The Positive & the Negative: You'll buy this book then immediately you'll realize you need to buy a second one because the first one you've dog-eared so many pages, and highlighted so many passages.
All you know when you're reading it though is that for the first time ever you're talking out loud, saying things like, "Oh my God this is good .. she's such an incredible writer .. this is .. " and you'll be without words because the only person who has words is Audrey. She has all the words. And they hit the heart and they hit the soul and you cannot believe their power and beauty.
All you know when you're reading it though is that for the first time ever you're talking out loud, saying things like, "Oh my God this is good .. she's such an incredible writer .. this is .. " and you'll be without words because the only person who has words is Audrey. She has all the words. And they hit the heart and they hit the soul and you cannot believe their power and beauty.
February 16, 2024
This poetry collection has it all: dark humor, Taylor Swift references, tarot spreads, and lines that stop you in your tracks. It’s a stark look at family legacies and how they shape us–for better or worse. You’ll find yourself halfway through without realizing it and eager for a second read at the end.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews