Kelly Kast

My Besties and Me.

Every year, my mother, a single parent, my grandmother, my sisters, and I travelled to Colorado to visit my grandma’s sister, Aunt Jesse, and my brother, Jim.

I always loved these trips. The drive was long, and my grandma often came up with fun ideas to help the many, many, miles pass more quickly. One of her favorites was the ABC game. We had to find every letter of the alphabet in the road signs we passed. We couldn’t use license plates on cars along the road, unless if was for the letter Z.

Very hard letter to find in road signs, the letter Z. Even today!

When I was around 10 years-old, we returned from a trip to Colorado, and I asked my grandma, who was preparing for a trip to Hawaii, what her favorite place to visit was.

My grandmother replied: “I rather like visiting my imagination. I’ve met many wonderful friends there.”

I didn’t understand it at the time, but as the years rolled by, and after my amazing, wonderful, grandmother passed, I realized how much her words had stuck with me.

I started writing at about 15 years-old. I must say my attempts up to about the age of 30 years-old were, simply put, hideous. I kept restraining my imagination, with thoughts like: too dumb, too cliché, too common. I was also told by a few very excellent writers, fiction, fantasy, and children’s literature, were not my forte.

I did have a successful career as a writer. I published many historical articles in magazines, newspapers, etc. And, though I don’t mean this in a braggadocio’s way, I helped a fair few writers achieve success with their collage or technical papers. Still, I didn’t feel I had achieved my heart’s desire.

In 2016, I watched a documentary about the Bristlecone Pine, the world’s oldest living tree species. Something about that documentary woke my imagination. I can’t explain it, and I won’t even try. All I can say is I felt, for the first time in my life, my imagination take hold, and consume me!

I saw my creatures, the Bristolon, take shape and develop a mind of their own. Temler, Sophera, Juba, and Cedrus, are as real to me as my own children. Silly? Maybe so, but fact all the same. These characters spoke to me on a daily basis, and begged me to tell their story. Ridiculous? Of course! But a fact nonetheless.

When I let my imagination actually speak to me, I came up with characters I had never known before could exist. Their story, became my story. I hope you enjoy The Bristolon Chronicles. It is from my heart to yours that I write this series. I agree with my grandmother. Our imagination is a magnificent place to visit. Worth our time, worth our effort, and worth our love.

To all who read this series, thank you. My hope is you enjoy meeting my characters as much as I enjoyed writing about them.