Tristen's love is the legends of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. His novel, still in progress at the moment, has a working title of Quest, and features the knight, Sir Trystan in a series of adventures as he sets off to awaken King Arthur from his enforced nap. He disregards Isolde in his version. Another woman takes the hero's interest. Other liberties will also be taken, but that's the fun of fiction.

He disregards the traditional way of spelling Tristan, too. Well—so did I when I chose the spelling for his name way back when. Had I known he'd like the 'y', I would have used that spelling instead. as I like it, too!

Tristen's mentor at the 2001 Bridging The Years Writer's Workshop was author Toni Sommo who also has a love of myths and legends. She was thrilled with his story topic and told him to keep at it. I wish he would—but, alas . . .he's got a case of writer's block, and hasn't written much more on it. I'm hoping my posting this up will maybe guilt him into at least trying to finish the novel.

Here, you'll find the first few pages of that novel, and a few short pieces he did in David Martin's session in which students were told to pretend to be an inanimate object and write about its life.

You can write him to let him know what you think of his talents.

Personally, I think he has great potential—but I'm his mother—I'm supposed to think that.

Also when I have a more recent picture of him, I'll post it. For now, this'll have to do!

Okay—on to his stories . . .

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The Miserable Life Of A PENCIL

Geeze! My life stinks! I lay around here all day with nothing to do. Then this big guy takes me and shoves my head into a sharpener, and then rubs what little bit of a face I have left into a piece of pap—

Oh God, NO! Not the sharpener AGAIN!!!! Nooooooooooooo . . . . .!!!!!!!!

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The Not Much Better Life Of PLUTO

Well, here I am, Pluto . . . I freeze my butt off doing these LONG laps around the sun, trying to get in shape so that maybe the Earth People will notice me. But no-oo—Who gets noticed? Mars!

Why should that lazy bum get all the attention? All he does is sit around and sun bathe. And then there's that pushover the moon . . . takes those little laps around the earth . . . What a showoff! If he's so IMPORTANT, why doesn't he have a REAL name?

Oh well . . . whatcha gonna do? I guess I'll just go freeze to death ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL by myself!

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Quest

Twas the tenth of the month, and the 24 knights of The Round Table were gathered at Camelot, for messengers had returned with grave news—The Saxons and their allies have mobilized against Camelot.

Sir Lancelot stood, and addressed his companions. "My fellow knights, our messengers have brought news that the Saxons have taken up arms against us."

Rising, Sir Trystan asked, "What are we to do?"

"I have an idea—but it won't be easy!" said Lancelot.

Sir Robin called out, "What is this idea?"

"I propose that one of us go to wake Arthur!"

Murmurings rippled among the knights. Who would they send? Camelot would be left unprotected if they went as a force.

Sir Percival slammed his hands on the table, thrust himself up, and demanded," And just whom are we going to send on this quest?"

Lancelot resumed his seat. "We will cast lots of course, to see who will go."

"And who," Trystan asked, "will cast the lots so that it will be fair?"

At that a great puff of smoke filled the room, and in the midst of it, a voice replied. "I shall!" Merlin stood before them. "I shall be the one to cast the lots."

There was a bowl in his hands, which he proceeded to pass around. Merlin told them, "He who gets the black stone is the one that will go."

After they each had taken their stone, one by one, they looked to see what they had drawn. Sir Trystan slowly opened his hand and there, shining in his palm, was the black stone. As he gazed at it disbelievingly, another knight from across the table cried out, "Sir Trystan has drawn the black stone!"

Merlin smiled. "Well, Sir Trystan, you have been chosen. You will wake the sleeping king."

"I am honored." Sir Trystan bowed his head reverantly.

"As well you should be. Go ready yourself!"

After Sir Trystan got ready, he mounted a beautiful white mare. As he was about to leave, Merlin called to him and instructed, "Ride to the Lady of The Lake. She will tell you where Arthur sleeps."

Sir Trystan then rode out of the castle. He journeyed that day without mishap. And he made camp near a river to make a meal of a few fish. After seeing to his horse's comfort, he laid down beside a tree for the night. It seemed like he had just closed his eyes when he was awakened by the sound of his horse stamping and nickering, and he saw a dark figure almost upon him.

"Who goes there?" Trystan challenged his unknown visitor.

"I crave your money, your sword and your horse! Give them to me."

Sir Trystan drew his sword "I'm afraid I cannot do that, you will have to fight me to get my belongings!"

The man drew his own sword. "As you wish!"

The night filled with the clashing of swords as the two men fought over Trystan's belongings. Trystan parried and swung at the thief slicing his left arm. The enraged bandit swung his sword at him in an arc. Sir Trystan dodged the attack and with a deft swipe Sir Trystan flicked the sword out of the bandit's hand.

"Do ye yield?" Trystan demanded as he pointed the tip of his sword at the bandits throat.

"Who are you that you are such a skilled swordsman?"

"I am but a simple traveler," Trystan said with a smirk. "Now off with you."

The man fled into the woods hastily.

When morning came, Sir Trystan gathered his things, and made ready to leave. He traveled quickly though the woods. Twas a fine summer day, but Trystan's mind was not on the day. It was on his quest and how he would fulfill it. But his thoughts were cut short by the ringing of swords somewhere up ahead. Trystan urged his horse onward. As they approached the source of the sounds, he saw a slight young man and a small dog fighting a bigger dark-haired man.

"He's holding his own," thought Sir Trystan. He watched the dog take hold of one of the man's legs as the fellow lunged to slice at the lad's arm. But as he rode closer he saw that the young man was not fighting one, but three men, and was apparently tiring.

Said one bandit to the boy, "Give us your horse and sword, and we won't kill you."

"Never!" replied the boy, and he swung his sword at the bandit making the demand.

"He can"t hold out much longer," Trystan uttered to himself. So he drove his horse to a full gallop towards the fight. He quickly dismounted his horse upon reaching them and drew his sword. Jumping into the thick of the fight, he caught a blow from behind meant for the lad's head.

"Look who it is!" cried a brown haired man with a bandage on his arm. After a minute Trystan realized that this was the man who'd attacked his the night before. "I've a score to settle with you!" threatened the man, as he chopped at Trystan. But the clumsy attack missed him, instead, hitting a tree.

With a quick thrust, Sir Trystan jabbed the man deeply in the leg. The man fell to the ground in pain.

A second bandit came at him from behind, but a bark from the little dog warned Trystan. He managed to dodge the attack, and to slash the bandit's arm as he flew by him, and he sent him crashing to the ground. The bandit lay but a moment there, and leapt up, charging Sir Trystan.

Trystan thrust his sword right through the arrogant bandit. The third bandit ran towards the woods with the brave little dog yapping and nipping at his heels. The first bandit decided he'd had enough as well, and picking himself up off the ground, limped after his comrade.

"Are ye all right, lad?" asked Trystan of the boy.

"Yes, thank you for your assistance," the boy replied, and put his sword away.

"What brought you all alone into such a dangerous place?" inquired Trystan. The young man told Sir Trystan how his town had been taken by the Saxons as a base; and how his father was a master blacksmith whom the Saxons had forced into their service. Even now he was repairing and making new weapons for them. During the night, however, the boy's brother had urged him to take a sword and a horse, and try to find help.

"So brave for one so young!" observed Trystan. "What be your name, lad?"

"Thoma—Thom," said the boy firmly. He picked an apple from a tree."Thom of Stanwyck. And you, sir?"

Trystan smiled at the boy, replying, "I am Sir Trystan of Camelot. And I am on a quest, too. I must wake King Arthur so he may help us defeat the Saxon armies. Would you consider joining me? You handled your sword well. You would be an asset to me. Once I fulfill my quest, we could then free your town from Saxon control!"

"I'll join you, my lord!" said Thom promptly.

"Good! Then let's get this place behind us!"

The two mounted their horses and rode off through the woods in search of the Lady of the Lake. Three days passed. At last they broke through the woods into a clearing.

"A lake!" cried out Thom. "But—is it the one?"

"Look, there's a boat waiting by the shore. We'll row out to the island, and have a look."

They left their horses with the little dog as guard over them, and then shoved the boat out into the water, and climbed in. They hadn't rowed for very long when Trystan noticed a wavy trail on the lake's surface.

"What is that?" he wondered aloud, and leaned closer for a better look.

Suddenly, a tentacle flew out of the water, grabbing Sir Trystan. He reached for his sword but it was knocked out of his hand. Thom quickly grabbed it up, and sliced off one of the tentacles. To his surprise, it grew right back almost at once. So he quickly chopped up the tentacle that held Sir Trystan, who dropped into the bottom of the boat. Then, the monster swiped the sword out of Thom's hand, knocking Thom out cold.

Sir Trystan promptly picked up the sword, and threw it straight into the beast's eye. The brute let out an awful scream and died.

In a few minutes, Thom regained consciousness. "What happened?"

"Thanks to you, lad, I was able to slay the beast," said Sir Trystan gratefully.

Then, the two men began to row once more. Halfway to the island, another figure appeared. In the sky this time---some kind of giant bird.

"Look there!" cried out Thom, and let go an oar to point.

This beast swooped low, and snatched Sir Trystan in its talons, carrying him into the sky. Trystan drew his sword with difficulty, and sliced the underside of the bird. Screeching with pain, it dropped him into the lake. Trystan began swimming towards the boat. The bird circled above, then dove for the brave knight, talons outstretched.

To make matter worse, the tentacled monster wasn't dead after all, and it intended to make a hearty meal of him. As the giant bird dove to swipe him up again, Trystan impulsively ducked under the water. The bird seixed hold of the monster. The monster wrapped its tentacles around the bird, dragging it under water. Amid the bubbling wake, Trystan swam back to the boat.

"Are you all right?" asked Thom worriedly.

"Yes, now row quickly for shore!"

Thom didn't need to be told twice! He rowed with all his might. Finally they reached land and began to search for the Lady of the Lake. After a few hours of spying out the lush green island, Thom and Trystan came up a small white house. They approached it cautiously, and as they got closer, a woman came out to greet them. Her eyes seem to glow the color of the sea.

"Welcome brave men. I am the Lady of the Lake."

Trystan stepped forward. "I am Sir Trystan of Camelot, my young companion is Thom of Stanwyck. We seek the resting place of King Arthur. Will you, please, tell the secret of where he sleeps?"

"You have proved yourselves worthy of this knowledge by defeating the obstacles I placed in your path. I will tell you."

She gave to him a map. "It will guide you to the region where he sleeps. Once you are there, and prove yourselves worthy one more time, it will show you the spot where Arthur can be found. Go now, and I bid you God Speed!"

So going back to their little boat, the two returned to the other shore. Mounting their horses, they went on their way, the little dog prancing before them. Just before nightfall, they came to the foot of some hills.

"We must ride across these hills," Trystan announced as he consulted the map. "But—nothing further can I tell from this."

Thom spurred his horse onward. "Then let us get over these hills. The sooner we find Arthur, the sooner we can save my village!"

Sir Trystan could find no fault with this thinking, so over the hills they traveled—one brave knight, one brave young boy, and a small dog.