On April 19 of this year, I sat down and wrote the first page of a novel. I didn't pick the day by accident. It was Akshaya Tritiya, one of the few days in the Vedic calendar considered so auspicious that no astrologer needs to be consulted before beginning something new. Akshaya means "that which never diminishes." Tradition says that whatever you start on that day keeps growing. It's also the day the sage Vyasa is said to have begun dictating the Mahabharata to Ganesha. For a writer, I couldn't think of a better door to walk through. Since then, most of my mornings have started the same way. Coffee, a photograph, a few paragraphs for you, and then I close the door and go back to work on the book. Some of you have caught me hinting at it. Six months later, almost to the day, it has arrived. It's called I'Eternal.
It opens with a photographer standing at a frosted window in Newport, Rhode Island, staring at his own reflection and asking a question he can't shake: who am I? From there the story moves through four worlds. A young woman in ancient Egypt carves something into red granite while the priests climb the stairs to stop her. In Florence in 1497, a young carrier moves through the streets with a forbidden teaching while the friar's fires burn the city's most beautiful things. A trumpet player in Montmartre plays on as the Germans march into Paris. And in present-day New England, two people who walked away from each other seven years ago are about to learn that what first brought them together has been waiting for them all along.
It's a love story, a few of them really. It's also a mystery and a war story. Underneath all of it is the thing you and I have been talking about for years: we were never separate from the Source, and most of what we call a life is the long, beautiful work of remembering that. Twelve books in, I can tell you this is the one I've been circling the whole time.
I’Eternal has a release date: November 25, 2026. Before then, I want the people on this list to hear everything first: early chapters, the cover, and a chance to read it before anyone else. Pre-orders open on Amazon next week, and you’ll be the first to get the link. Watch your inbox, and claim your copy before the rest of the world catches on.
Pour la musique. Toujours.
DDA
P.S. “The eye sees everything except itself.”That’s the first line of my new novel, I’Eternal. Read the first four scenes here, illustrated in colored pencil: Newport, ancient Egypt, and Paris three days before the Germans arrive. If they stay with you, the rest of the story is waiting.
The tide went out at East Beach and left the sand wet and flat as a skillet. The sky laid its gold down on that sand, and it did not stay put. It moved with every thin sheet of water the Gulf sent back up the beach. The air still held the heat of August, and the thermometer on the porch still said summer. But the light came in lower now, and it came in longer. A family walked the edge of the water toward the jetty with their shoes in their hands. The children ran ahead and then came back to them. The tall condo on the dunes caught the last sun in its windows, and the windows burned. The pelicans had gone off somewhere to sleep. Out past the second bar a shrimp boat worked its way home.
Nobody rings a bell when a season ends. The light tells you first, and the body knows it before the calendar does. We came home from the hills and found the island had kept its own time without us. The tide did not wait for us, and it did not miss us either. People carry a story that says a thing must be held to count. The summer went and nobody held it, and it counted all the same. You stand in the warm water to your ankles and feel the cold coming, off in the distance, somewhere under it. You do not have to name it yet. The gold on the sand will last about ten more minutes, and you will know what to do with the rest of the evening.
On a winter night in Newport, a photographer finds two rows of ancient symbols in a frame he doesn’t remember taking. Their story runs back through occupied Paris, Renaissance Florence, and ancient Egypt: four lifetimes of one soul remembering its way home to itself.
My new novel arrives November 25, 2026, and I wanted you to be among the first to know. As my gift to you, the first chapter is yours, free.
Everyone carries a story worth telling. Most people never learn how. In my master course, I teach you the four questions every great story turns on. Who stands at the center of it. What sets the whole thing moving. Where it all takes place. Why any of it matters to a stranger. Learn these four and the stage is yours, whether you are writing a speech, filming a vlog at your kitchen table, or building something the world has not seen yet. The voice is already yours. Let me show you how to use it.
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I’ve spent most of my life onstage, telling stories for laughs and feeling a room shift in real time. For twenty five years I hosted an improvisational show called Four Day Weekend, and that stage felt like home. In 2020 the world shifted, and so did I. The questions of the world began to matter more to me than comedy, and I turned toward writing about life's greater mysteries, finishing We’ll Always Have Paris and later Quietude, which became a quiet turning point in my life. Exploring The 12 Universal Laws widened the lens even more. Now the island reflections and everyday synchronicities I share carry one intention, which is to help you awaken to your highest potential. I am not here to convince or impress you. I simply hope to brighten your day, invite you to question what you have been told, and remind you of what you already know. Each morning I return to the same ground. I am awake. I am aware. I am able. I remember. Everything I share grows from there.