Famous Sci-fi author, Harry Turtledove first rose to fame under the pen name of Eric Iverson. I was quite surprised when I first saw my name on the cover of Analog back in the early ’80s, and annoyed when I found out the other Eric Iverson wasn’t even a real Eric Iverson!

Here’s an example of my Sci-fi writing, created for a contest where the rules stipulated that it had to be under 500 words.

The Time Collector © 2004 Eric Iverson – All Rights Reserved

Where am I? What am I doing here? I’m disoriented, dizzy. I try to squint and make out shapes.

I feel grass beneath me and begin to recognize my surroundings. This is the park near my old home. The fog of time travel is lifting. Will I ever get used to it?

This isn’t the first time I’ve done this. There were the test runs back into time a few hours, a few days, just to be sure.

Now I’m going back a lot further in time. I have a mission, and exactly one hour to carry it out.

I don’t seek to alter history–that would be too dangerous. I purposely chose a time in the mid 1970s to come back to, and a neighborhood I was familiar with, but did not live in until later in my life. I wouldn’t want to risk bumping into my younger self and accidentally altering the future.

No, I didn’t come here to change anything in the past at all. I came here for the comic books. It’s not such a crazy idea, buying comics. A lot of them go for rather hefty prices in the present.

Slowly I rise to my feet. I breathe in deep to help me feel alert. Let’s try a few steps, one foot in front of the other. I’m getting my time traveling legs back.

I check my watch. It’s 11:11. I’ve been lying here for about ten minutes, then. That cuts into my time a bit. In roughly fifty minutes I’ll be automatically transported back to the present day along with my cargo. It’s time to go shopping!

As I walk the few blocks to the store, I recognize the houses of friends I haven’t seen in years. Friends I haven’t met yet at this point in the past. I think some people might be staring at me. Could it be my clothes don’t look right for this period? Nervously I check my watch. It’s 11:15, so I’m making good time. I got this nice 1970′s watch on Ebay. That’s the same place I got these retro ’70s clothes, and the old money I’ll use to buy the comic books which I’ll eventually sell on Ebay to the highest bidder. Ebay: it’s the time traveler’s best friend!

Quickly I enter the store and head straight to the comics. I grab piles of Hulk, Spiderman, Daredevil. I prefer the Marvel brand of comics. Here’s some X-Men, and Warlock–no, that sounds too much like Morlock–better skip those. Checking my watch I have 30 minutes to go, but I won’t dawdle. Time to check out. I’m hungry so I grab a Marathon chocolate bar–they don’t make those anymore.

“Twenty oh four!” The man behind the counter says.

“Pardon?”

“Twenty dollars and four cents, please.”

“Oh, right. Here you go.”

Now it’s out of the store and back to the park, where I’ll soon fade away into the future. I’ll take a different route back so as not to attract undue attention.

A block from the park I see someone I recognize; it’s Robby Lions, a kid who used to pick on me at school. He’s doing what he does best, picking on smaller kids. For a moment I pause and contemplate what I, now a fully grown adult, could do to him to teach him a lesson, but as interesting as that sounds it’s too risky. After all, I turned out fine despite Robby’s tormenting.
And that kid had it rough–he lost his abusive dad at an early age. I never knew his dad because by the time I moved here his dad was gone. I should probably just keep walking.

Suddenly I hear sirens. It takes me a moment before it sinks in; these are air raid sirens! Back in the cold war days they used to test them on Saturdays at noon. My cheap watch is way off! There’s one Ebayer who’s going to get some negative feedback, let me tell you! I’ve got less than a minute.

Then I hear an angry voice.

“Get away from my kid, you weirdo!”

Chills run down my spine. That was Robby’s dad!

“I was just leaving, sir.”

This is getting strange. But there’s no need to worry because in a few seconds I’ll be so out of here. I resume walking with a quick pace back to the park.

“Come back here, weirdo!”

Can’t this guy make up his mind? I start running and he starts chasing. I can feel the sensation of returning to the present. I’m home free, now! So long, sucker!

* * *

Where am I? What am I doing here? My head hurts, but I made it! I’m back!

Then I hear an angry voice.

“Where the heck am I, weirdo?