|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Fri, 07/12/2013 - 02:58|
In case no one reads the Blog -- For the foreseeable future, I will be offline, so there will be no posts, no stories, no reviews. There have been significant changes to my work and family life that require some re-grouping.
I am immensely grateful for the readers who have taken the time to read my work, and I will return to finish these stories as soon as I am able.
I just have no idea when that will be.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Sun, 07/07/2013 - 09:15|
For the foreseeable future, I will be offline, so there will be no posts, no stories, no reviews. There have been significant changes to my work and family life that require some re-grouping. As soon as I'm able, I will return.
I just have no idea when that will be.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Thu, 06/20/2013 - 03:50|
My father was a comic book fan. He grew up in the Marvel Era, when the Fantastic Four, Avengers, Spiderman and the X-men redefined what comics could be, in the early 1960s. "These aren't your dad's comic books" were the tagline back then, as Marvel's portrayals of superheroes as people first, heroes second, stood against the iconic DC characters that were primarily heroes in tights, with secret identities that were largely hollow.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Thu, 05/30/2013 - 07:55|
We celebrated Thanksgiving with Frank and stayed in his penthouse for a couple of weeks, ferrying between campus and the apartment with bodyguards. Frank went out of his way to redesign two rooms so I gained a lab and Bianca had her own art studio. He was a very gracious host, though I worried about his arm healing properly and whether or not they would catch the last bank robber.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Thu, 05/30/2013 - 04:58|
I put one of Ethan's notebooks and a sketchpad under my seat in the car and then went back in to eat cookies with the kids. I waited the rest of the day, until my three hooligans were all asleep in bed, to go out and get them. I came inside and found Ethan in the kitchen grabbing a snack from the refrigerator.
“You owe your daughter an apology,” I said to him.
“Pardon?” he said, shutting the door and shining an apple on his shirt. He looked at me, perplexed.
I put the sketchpad and the notebook on the table. “You know how to tell stories.”
Ethan shrugged. “No, I don't.”
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Wed, 05/29/2013 - 12:44|
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Mon, 05/27/2013 - 04:32|
I borrowed a bit of money from Calla in 2007 and took it to Matt in 2008 to help him fund the night he took Diggory Franklin to the underground mob betting ring. I had made arrangements with Matt to put Mr. Franklin in a compromising position that we could leverage for money, but that was a very loose plan.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Fri, 05/10/2013 - 10:14|
My sister Calla had lived with the death of our parents for more than a decade. She lost her adoptive parents, the Wileys, a year before meeting Diggory Franklin in 2008. I had been sent back in time by the Continuity Integrity Agency to make sure that Calla built a time machine that Diggory would use before his death in 2009.
The only problem was, the Wileys' death provided the funds that paid for Calla's doctoral studies. Those courses led to the time machine. So, to make sure the machine was built, I had to make sure the Wileys' died.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Wed, 04/17/2013 - 02:38|
I had always loved stories and art and creativity. I ended up taking art through high school, and drama. I helped design and build sets and costumes. It was fun to help make little worlds, and to use imagination to fill in the gaps. When I started acting in shows Ethan was my number one fan, showing up to watch practices and give me flowers on opening night.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Mon, 04/15/2013 - 02:18|
When I was a kid I would tell my friends I had a busy summer upon my return to school -- and a "busy summer" entailed farm chores, reading books, playing with my sister, shopping trips, swimming in the creek, and maybe, just maybe, travelling somewhere.
On my CIA final exam, I learned a whole new definition of busy.