Completion Funds of Lady Diana Book

LIBERTY'S ETERNAL FLAME: the story of Dodi & Diana' accident from a very different point of view.

Visit https://clarkphynics.com/pfr-book-crowd-fund-perks to select your pre-sale or perk and then donate the amount on this page!

Things got progressively harder for Clark as she advanced the story of Liberty's Eternal Flame. Nearly complete, it requires $15,000 finishing funds for: Court case transcripts Microfiche, buried news articles Equipment Legal On site investigation Travel docs Agency & publication packages Pre-publication press interviews & promo Completion time. Over $70,000 examines all pre-meditated evidence. Over $800,000 hires former agent investigators. READ a sample below!

Book Blurb & Sample Read
(nearly complete manuscript, second of the series, memoir) 
 
 1994, Toronto. Clark apprenticed in film with a man that owned an expensive black Mercedes Benz driven by a personal bodyguard, had a luxury condominium with Harrods of London items, and introduced himself as Dodi Fayed. Yet he was not what he appeared to be.

 Unable to resist a cryptic puzzle requiring investigation, Clark discovered a faint trail of breadcrumbs leading to Dodi’s soon accident in the Alma tunnel of 1997 pointing to Lady Diana likely having been placed into forcible exile, not having died. 

 What above the line movie producers know of Clark is that she is the real mccoy making sense of a world of movie magic that seeks to solve a mystery that appears to have claimed the lives of so many public figures of the entertainment business and politics. As Clark worked on U.S. studio sets from 2006 to 2018, ‘Phynics Forever Rising’ is a unique ‘journey out of the looking glass’ project of her life that art imitates, that life again imitates, with small easter egg reveals of her own efforts reflected within multiple productions from The Fantastic Four, to Smallville, and 2012 the movie.

SAMPLE First 'Chapter':

    1994. ‘Do you know anything about him?’ I queried, as I had not ever heard of Dodi Fayed, a bit confused by his request for me to connect. ‘He’s a movie producer. Egyptian. I think he mentioned ‘Chariots of Fire’ and that his father owns Harrods of London’ my mother said. ‘I have no idea Chantal, just please call him, he keeps asking about it.’

    For some reason Dodi’s number did not end up in the trash, nor did my mother scare him off as she did with most other opportunities for my success. It seems as he was so insistent, and my mother being a broker that sold him a condominium did not want to fall out of the favor with a wealthy real estate client, I now had this new and unexpected connection. 

    Before giving him a call I went to the task of gaining some information about the man. It was a business practice that I had learned from my then as well estranged father that had divorced my mother, that she now deeply despised. A relationship that my father and I would remedy over the course of the year prior to his death.

    There was no information on Dodi. None. No images. No videos. No credits. The in print interviews with him online stated that he was actively very private. One or two articles outright stating he refuses to have his picture published. Why? What a curiosity was this person. Movie producers loved publicity, yet Dodi did not. Only interviews and pictures of his father Mohammed Fayed in relation to Harrods, and the Ritz in Paris prevalently appeared. Nothing. It made no sense.

    A small curiosity as not being able to find some basic information that I ought to, bothers me. So I moved past my internet reading. I pulled a thick guide book of the movie business that my father had bought for me as a present from my bookcase, yet there was no mention of him in it. When I went to my local video store to rent ‘Chariots of Fire’ I finally found a mention of Dodi in their very large video reference guide, yet it cited only that particular film that I already had in my hand.

    ‘Who are you talking about?’ a classmate queried as we sat in the large film screening room of the film studies building on Bond Street in Toronto's Ryerson University. 'Dodi Fayed. He’s a movie producer. Has anyone here ever heard of Dodi Fayed?’ There was a silence from my class. It troubled me as I was to meet with him soon, and I had only one movie to go on, with literally no information on the man.

    From what little I knew, Dodi appeared to me to be a fledgling movie producer that was new to the business and got in, likely, as his father had some money. Not an uncommon situation in Los Angeles. His film appeared to have a lovely theme of integrity so perhaps we would be excellent to work together.

     When I called Dodi, he was very pleased and surprised to hear from me. ‘I would like to meet with you to talk about apprenticing with you in film’, I stated when we had our initial brief introductions. ‘Yes, this is a good idea’, Dodi said and then asked for me to select the restaurant for us to meet for dinner to discuss it. I smile when I look back on it, as I had picked a struggling yet nice and quiet place near to where I lived that had well priced meals. It meant a good deal to me to be able to pay for my part of the bill, and having only twenty dollars this place promised for me to be able to afford a bit of dignity. At least this is what I was thinking.

    I stood outside waiting for him on Mount Pleasant, it was a bit cold. A lovely expensive black Mercedes Benz pulled up, very clean and shiny in the streetlights. A man stepped out from the front and another from in back, I still had no idea what Dodi looked like. Dodi introduced himself and I laughed at the unexpectedness of this initial meeting. Things were pretty comfortable between us from the start as I faltered my way through familiarizing myself with the situation. Dodi said he would come alone, yet his friend or perhaps film colleague was behaving rudely standoffish. Very few things ever surprised me in life, and Dodi, from the moment I heard of him, was becoming a bit of a building mystery for me. His entry merely added to it.

    ’Would you mind if we ate at my friend’s restaurant instead?’ stated Dodi eyeing the struggling restaurant questioningly. ‘I think it would be a lot safer to eat there.’ he said. We talked about it for a moment and he invited for me to get into the back of the vehicle to discuss it. I had just been through an abduction in another dark car with an aloof driver a few years prior, and this was likely the first time after that that I got into a stranger’s vehicle. Sometimes you just have to overcome trauma and live life once more. Dodi and I sat in the back discussing where to eat, as his friend’s restaurant was on the other side of the city.

    I always talked better one on one and I was a bit put out that this other man was with us. It seemed there would be no privacy to discuss my theory on time and a few ideas that I had for film. I decided to let it go, and just take it as a friendly night where we would likely not even get into my work. The man driving had been quiet for so long now that I was thinking that he may just be a very shy person or did not speak english well, and I was now feeling badly for him as I had not even introduced myself. 

    ’Well, what does your friend want? Where would you like to eat?’ I said catching the look of the driver and patting the back of his seat. It made him smile. ‘He is my bodyguard’ Dodi stated, genuinely not expecting me for me to think otherwise. I laughed and the driver smiled as well. ‘Oh! Now I get it. I could not figure out why you were not talking to me.’ I said laughing at the driver that continued to say nothing except smile at me some more in his mirror. The mystery continued, and I puzzled on it some more. Insisting to meet with me… refusing pictures and interviews… worried about the safety of his food… and having a personal bodyguard… what’s the deal with this Dodi Fayed?

    His driver brought us to a high end restaurant aside Victoria Street that was packed. The maitre d’ knew Dodi on sight and made a very nice and welcoming fuss. ‘Where would you like to sit?’ the lady queried to me, and the two stood there waiting for my answer as I looked over the lovely room. It seemed to me a strange question as I could hardly see all of the available seating of the restaurant, and thereby had no idea what I would like to select. 

    Dodi leaned in and quietly said nicely, ’Would you like to sit to be seen in the restaurant, or somewhere more private?’ I laughed a bit at his wording of ‘being seen’. At the moment I was clearly no where dressed for the venue, I had on jeans and an oversized shirt. It caused me to think that I had not ever considered the idea of wanting to be ‘seen’ somewhere before. Was that, perhaps, incorrect of me? ‘I would like somewhere quiet I stated’, and we were brought directly to a nice private candlelit table. 

    I was a bit famished, and ordered a side salad as a meal, with no drink. I recall Dodi smiling, and asking several times whether I would like to order anything else as he would be pleased to pay for it; ‘No’ I stated. I felt that he was the one giving the favor of meeting with me, so I was already quite upset that I could not cover the bill for both of us. His friend, the owner of the restaurant, came by the table to talk with us for a bit. As I recall he was Egyptian as Dodi, and was very welcoming to have me there. Warm and affectionate, placing his large soft palms around my own.

    I was a bit thrown by the potential romance of the restaurant, and did not want for our meeting to start to feel like a date. Nearly immediately I pulled out my resume. ‘I figured to bring this because it gives you a quick sense of my expertise’. Dodi took the sheet and started to glance it over. ‘You have a lot of experience’ he said, and then he read something that he mouthed over several times. ‘You were a Page at Queen’s Park for their 33rd session?’ Dodi said with genuine surprise. ‘What is Queen’s Park?’ he asked. ‘It is the Ontario Legislature, where all of the M.P.s meet. I was a Page’. ‘You were a Page, there? Through the government?’ ‘Who did this?’ Dodi said somewhat bewildered. ‘The government.’ I stated, not sure what he meant. 

    It seemed so strange to me that he took little notice of my filmic experience, when this is why were were supposedly meeting, yet was so interested in this point. In as far as he seemed to find me a bit of a mystery, so mine of him grew as well. ‘Please tell me about it’ Dodi requested. ‘Uh… it was very fun. I was quite young, representing Armourdale’.

    In the decade it had been from when I was a Page nobody ever took notice of this fact, and I had finally nearly omitted it from my resume for our meeting. Why was he so astounded that the government had made me an official Page. A Page of course is the term for a Knight in training that requires another Knight to apprentice them to move forth. I would learn decades later that Harrods of London was situated on Knightsbridge, and that its purchase had caused some issues between the Fayed family and the Royals of England.

    ‘I did not get involved in the filmmaking of Chariots of Fire, not in the way that I would have liked. I was a Producer, yet the actual process was new for me. You are coming from the other side of it, being in film in University and theatre. You know the lighting, cameras, editing.’ ‘Yes’ I said. ‘Yes, precisely, see, these things are new for me. I created ‘Hook’ with Steven Spielberg, and ‘F/X’. Now, I am starting to be more involved in the process of filmmaking. You could likely teach me more about it than I could of you. I will not be too good to apprentice you in this way’ Dodi stated truthfully.

    There was something to Dodi. I was not meeting with a film producer. Yes, film is what we had in common. I would say that his movies were a small manifestation of something larger in his world, and I was trying to make sense of it. His life experience was clearly outside of it, and I sat there questioning why he both insisted on my calling him, and his then agreeing to meet with me knowing that when we arranged our dinner that it was to discuss precisely what he was now saying he had no real expertise in.

    ‘It is not really for film’ I said, finally forcing myself to talk of my life’s work. ‘I am in film because I have a project that I have been working on that is concerned with a unique view of the way that time functions. Producing and global communications is what I must focus on. Getting my work to the public.' 'Ahhh, yes, this I can teach you.' Dodi said smiling. ‘Basically the idea is that just as the past has already occurred, so has the future, we as humans are just not perceiving it properly. Yet a few, select individuals are able to consistently have memories of the future just as most are able to of the past, we call this E.S.P.. Dodi was intrigued.

    For years I had been building my philosophical work, mastering writing, performance, and storytelling; to relay what was a near impossibly complicated idea of time to the public. I did not ever like to talk about it with people unless they were very invested, and we had time and privacy to discuss it at length, as it required a good deal of focus to ‘get’ the theory. The concept  itself was profoundly revolutionary, and I knew that its significance required years of expertise on my part to see it brought to people at large thereby. For me, this was very important, and was worthy of being my life’s work. Dodi listened to me quite intently, and I said that it would be more clear if he viewed my film ‘Currents’ that I just created on it, and my other film entitled ‘The Olde Hermit’s Hut’.

    ‘Tell me about your daughter, why you are a mother so young now.’ The personal question seemed weirdly probing, yet I decided to not keep anything back. ‘I did not plan to have her this way’ I said. ‘I always planned to have my kids very late in life when I had the means to give them a good home and travel with them. I was drugged and abducted and that is the way that I became pregnant’ I stated. I had barely ever told anyone at that point about my being attacked and the words sounded foreign to me, yet Dodi was so outside of the sphere of anyone that knew me or my abducter, I felt that I could safely tell him. ‘He drugged you, and attacked you’ Dodi said as if making sense of me as well. ‘And you kept your baby’. ‘Yes. I love my girl enormously, what occurred has no relevance between her and I’ I said truly not wanting to get into it any more than that.

    The remainder of the dinner was mostly regular talk, and we settled on the plan that Dodi would view my two films and we would discuss them when he was in the city again, ‘I will likely return in five months’ he said. My heart sank. It was a bit upsetting as I was wanting to learn from him, yet aside from having no practical film expertise Dodi was rarely in the city, and again, I had to ask myself why then did he seem so sure that meeting with relation to apprenticing me was a good idea? His behavior made no sense. The mystery became worse after meeting him. Was it just me, or was there obviously something else going on here?