Eric James Stone

Preschool: Somewhere in Lima, Peru

Kindergarten: Fairbanks Elementary School (Massachusetts)

1st Grade: Fairbanks Elementary School, Escuela
Campo Alegre (Venezuela)

2nd Grade: Escuela Campo Alegre, Escuela Lincoln (Argentina),

3rd Grade: Escuela Lincoln

4th Grade: Escuela Lincoln

5th Grade: American Community School — Wimbledon (England)

6th Grade: American
Community School — Cobham (England)

7th Grade: American Community School — Cobham

8th Grade: American Community School — Cobham

9th Grade: American Community School — Cobham

10th Grade: American Community School — Cobham, Bountiful
High School (Utah)

11th Grade: Bountiful High School

12th Grade: Bountiful High School

Undergraduate degree: Brigham
Young University (Utah)

Graduate degree: Baylor Law School
(Texas)

I was born in Bronxville, New York.

I’ve lived in:

• Montreal, Canada (Less than one year old.)
• Buenos Aires, Argentina (Age 0-2. My sister Angie was born here.)
• Boston, Massachusetts (Age 2-3.)
• Lima, Peru (Age 3-4. My sister Julie was born here.)
• Boston, Massachusetts (Age 5-6. My sister Carolyn was born here.)
• Caracas, Venezuela (Age 6-7.)
• Buenos Aires, Argentina (Age 7-10. My brother Michael was born here.)
• London and Cobham, England (Age 10-15. My brother Jonathan was born
  here.)
• Bountiful, Utah (Age 15-18.)
• Provo, Utah (Age 18-19.)
• Terni, Ostia, Rome, Pozzuoli, Caserta, and Livorno; Italy (Age 19-21.)
• Reisterstown, Maryland (Age 21-24. Stayed there during summers home
  from college.)
• Provo, Utah (Age 21-23.)
• Alexandria, Virginia (Age 23-24.)
• Waco, Texas (Age 24-27.)
• Lockport, New York (Age 27.)
• Arlington, Virginia (Age 27-32)
• Provo, Utah (Age 32.)
• Highland, Utah (Age 32-33.)
• Sandy, Utah (Age 33-34.)

I currently live in Eagle Mountain, Utah.

Beginning of a new science fiction short story.

The automated distress call from New Jerusalem Colony went out over the tanglecom, so it was received instantaneously two hundred and thirty-seven light years away on Earth. Since a least-time hyperspace journey from Earth would take over three years, the message was forwarded to Mir Colony, which was the closest to New Jerusalem. Forty-three days later the starship Katiusha arrived in orbit around New Jerusalem.

Since the signal had contained no details beyond the code indicating catastrophic failure of the colony AI, the crew of the Katiusha were not sure what to expect. Repeated attempts to raise anyone on the ground via radio were met with nothing but static.

A robotic surveillance probe was sent down to the central city of the colony. The buildings appeared to be intact, but there were no people to be found. A few groundcars that had crashed were the only signs of violence, but there were no bodies.

There had been three hundred thousand colonists on New Jerusalem. Now there were none.

Finally.

I was searching on Amazon and found out that the first season of Quantum Leap is being released on DVD in June.

Quantum Leap was one of my favorite TV shows of the 1990’s: usually funny, often thought-provoking, and sometimes heart-rending.

In case you’re not familiar with the series, here is the basic premise: Thinking that it’s possible to travel through time during his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett uses a quantum time machine to send himself back in time. Except it doesn’t work the way he thought it would. Instead of just appearing in the past as himself, he “leaps” into the body of someone else, usually into the middle of some problem. (When he finds himself in a sticky situation, his trademark phrase is “Oh boy!”) He has to find a way to solve the problem, at which point he “leaps” somewhere else.

I’ve mentioned before that I take an online writing course. I’m in the second week of the current class, and the teacher, Caleb Warnock, has changed the assignments a bit for this class. Instead of writing a scene portraying something, he’s been having us write plot outlines.

When it was only scenes, I didn’t really have a problem posting the results of the assignment here, but I’ve decided I don’t want to publish plot outlines. I’ll still be doing occasional scenes, though.

But now’s as good a time as any to talk about Caleb’s classes. I first took a class from him almost two years ago. It was an in-person class. Since then, I’ve been taking his online class (with a few breaks here and there.)

At only $45 for an eight-week course, it’s relatively cheap as far as writing classes go. Each week, there will be a short lesson or two to read, a short craft writing assignment, and you are expected to post a piece of your work (part of a short story or novel) to be critiqued by Caleb and the other students. You are also expected to critique at least three other students’ work. (However, since the class is not for grade or credit, if circumstances keep you from completing everything, it’s no big deal.)

There are several reasons why I have kept taking this class for so long.

1. It help keep me writing. I’m lazy. Having a class where I’m expected to produce something helps motivate me.

2. Caleb’s comments on my manuscripts are generally very helpful.

3. The assignments are usually challenging enough that they inspire my creativity. One of the assignments turned into my short story “In Memory,” which will be published in the Writers of the Future anthology this fall.

4. The lessons help me better understand various aspects of writing and the writing business.

5. Getting to see what the other advanced students in the class are writing (generally not in my genre) gives me a broader perspective.

(Anyway, if you’re interested in finding out more about Caleb’s classes, go here. I’m not being paid to say this. He doesn’t even give me a discount on my tuition when I refer a student!)

The climate around the human outpost was far too cold for Entarak-Suli Grelfarb’s taste, though its inhabitants seemed to like it well enough. She wished she had another glick-pelt coat on top of the two she already wore. More than that, she wished she were not the junior grelfarb in the district. Iklor-Junup’s ears had been positively waggling with glee when he had delegated this assignment to her. Since there was no one to whom she could delegate in turn, she had been force to make the three-day journey on gossulback to the human outpost.

The treaty the humans had signed with her people, the kireni, allowed them to mostly run their own affairs within their outpost. However, a case involving the killing of a kiren by a human was obviously not a human-only affair. So the humans had sent for a grelfarb.

On February 4, I posted a strange message:

There is an old Klingon saying . . .

“Today is a good day to die.”

And I agree with that sentiment exactly, except for the part about dying.

More on this subject another day.

Well, to misquote Scarlet O’Hara, today is another day.

The news is finally public, so I can announce the reason why I thought February 4 was a good day. That’s the day I found out that my short story “The Man Who Moved the Moon” was one of the twelve winners in the 3rd Annual Phobos Fiction Contest. Judges for the contest were Orson Scott Card, Jeanne Cavelos, Doug Chiang, Ken Perlin, Stanley Schmidt, and Eleanor Wood.

The story should be published later this year in the Phobos anthology.

Just a fragment of an idea for a story.

“Einstein proved that nothing could travel through the aether faster than light,” said the scientist. The text onscreen next to the CNN logo identified him as Dr. Henry Landsen, Physicist at UCLA. “However, the Athena Project will attempt to get around that limit by creating a tunnel in the aether. Without the drag of the aether on the ship, theoretically it could accelerate to speeds far beyond that of light, allowing travel to the stars.”

“Can you explain the process used to create the tunnel?” asked the interviewer.

“The aether can be stretched by strong magnetic fields. In order to create the tunnel, very powerful magnets will be accelerated to high speeds

Well, maybe not quite. But my name was mentioned in the credits for the James Taranto’s “Best of the Web” on Thursday. (Scroll down to near the bottom.)

It’s not for the quality of my blog, of course. It’s because I sent him a link to the strange headline of a Reuters story: “Bombing Mars Bush Effort to Trumpet Iraq Progress.”

Why would Bush make an effort to bomb Mars in order to trumpet progress in Iraq?

“Get the feelings of well-being that are implied by the images in this ad of people engaged in fun activities! Ask your doctor if Glucinactera