The Surprising Life and Death of Diggory Franklin
|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 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 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 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.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Wed, 03/27/2013 - 08:16|
Hey everyone. I have been tremendously busy this month because of (see my blog) and so I have been derelict in my duties as a writer.
I'm sure you're all tired of hearing that. I was getting better at keeping a once a week schedule until (see my blog) but now I'll have to try twice as hard to keep the story going, because I'm not giving up on the five years I've invested in Diggory Franklin's story.
I figure it's important for any of you still out there to hear that. There will be more story.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Tue, 02/26/2013 - 17:16|
Frank convinced me to go home for a break. I took a shower, grabbed some food and took a nap. Then I went back and watched him sleep until I passed out on the couch in his room. We chit-chatted the next day, and I did my best to keep a brave face through our banter. I think I covered my anxiety with humour, and he seemed to be in good spirits. I didn't want him to worry about me when he had so much to recover from.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Wed, 02/20/2013 - 12:10|
Dempsey looked over at Andrew, sitting there on the couch smiling like a shark and offering threats in a friendly tone of voice. He smiled back.
"I'd like to see you try."
"What's that?" Andrew raised an eyebrow.
Dempsey slid out of his suit jacket and let it fall over the back of a chair. He then unbuttoned his cufflinks and started to roll up his sleeve.
|Submitted by G.S. Williams on Fri, 02/15/2013 - 07:19|
"Why are you still here?" Dempsey stood in the doorway of the den, arms crossed over his chest in his three-piece suit.
"I was reading," Andrew answered, holding up a novel from his seat on the leather couch.
He was dressed in a sweater and khaki outfit that was a little more casual than his host. He looked more comfortable than Dempsey would like in what was his personal sanctuary.
"I mean in my house. Patricia's out at the opera with friends, we can talk plainly for once."
"I rather enjoyed Christmas and New Year's, don't you like when family visits?" Andrew smiled.