I've Built a Complete Home for My Work
Fir fifty years of stories
For months now, you’ve been reading chapters and essays here on Substack—pieces of a larger puzzle I’ve been assembling for most of my life. Today, I want to show you the complete picture.
I’ve built a permanent home for my work at andrejdsp.com, and I’d like to invite you to explore it.
What You’ll Find There
This isn’t just a website—it’s the architecture of fifty years lived between perpetual motion and chosen stillness. Here’s what’s waiting for you:
The Spaces Between - Memoir Trilogy
The complete overview of three books spanning 1973 to 2023. Fifty years. Three acts. One inevitable truth: you can’t outrun what travels in your bones.
Surfing the Interstates - Book One (Published 2025)
Summer 1973. A 21-year-old hitchhikes 4,000 miles across Nixon’s crumbling America. Jerry Garcia blesses his guitar. UFOs read the Pacific’s memory. A vision in a Texas canyon points toward water and the woman who moves like tides. Read the full review, explore sample chapters, or purchase the e-book and audiobook.
Sahara Dust - Book Two (Coming late 2026)
Antigua, 1982-1987. The vision becomes flesh. Building a windsurfing empire with Thea in paradise—until Sahara dust storms carry death across the Atlantic, and her lungs, exhausted from decades of cystic fibrosis, finally surrender. Some things you can never outrun.
Green Mountain Flash - Book Three (Coming late 2027)
Vermont, 1997-2023. A golden retriever introduces me to Veronica. Wedding photography. The 2008 crash. An overlanding rig that never leaves town. Then nocturnal seizures force the stillness I could never choose. True peace means learning to stop running and live within yourself.
Who I am, where I came from, and why I write. The collision of French banking aristocracy and Irish immigrant resilience. My grandfather’s Wall Street empire. My father’s impossible expectations. My mother Joannie’s saving grace. And Niki—my aunt, the renowned sculptor, my unexpected guardian angel.
Why Build This Now?
Substack is where I write—where the raw material lives, where chapters emerge, where we talk. It’s the workshop.
But I needed a permanent structure. A place where everything lives together. Where someone discovering my work three years from now can see the whole arc. Where the trilogy exists as a complete vision, not just scattered posts.
I needed a home that would last beyond algorithms and platform changes. Something I control. Something that reflects the architecture of the work itself: hub and spoke, center and radiating paths, stillness with motion contained within it.
What Hasn’t Changed
This Substack remains my primary writing home. New chapters drop here first. Essays, reflections, behind-the-scenes looks at the writing process—all of that continues here, exactly as before.
The website is the archive, the overview, the permanent address. Substack is the living conversation.
Think of it this way: the website is the house. Substack is the kitchen table where we actually sit and talk.
A Request
If my work has meant something to you—if you’ve connected with the stories, if you’ve found yourself somewhere in the highways or the water or the mountains—would you visit andrejdsp.com and explore?
Bookmark it. Share it with someone who loves literary memoir. Leave a comment here telling me what you discover there.
And if you haven’t yet read Surfing the Interstates, now’s the time. The e-book and audiobook are available at https://shop.andrejdsp.com, narrated in my own voice. I’d love to take you on that 1973 journey.
The Spaces Between
That’s what I’ve been writing about all along—the spaces between leaving and arriving, between fear and freedom, between who we were and who we’re becoming. That’s where the real journey happens.
Now those spaces have an address: andrejdsp.com
Come visit. The door’s open.
—André