Teaching and The Tapestry
In The Tapestry, Max McDaniels has a recurring dream in which he’s confronted by a monstrous wolfhound. “What are you about?” the creature demands. “Answer quick, or I’ll gobble you up!”
As a former teacher, I know many of my students can relate. Like Max, they wrestle with hard questions similar to that posed by the wolfhound. In their lives, however, the inquisitors are not storybook creatures, but parents, teachers, coaches, and even themselves. In many ways, The Tapestry is as much a quest for identity and purpose as it is an epic adventure.
I doubt I could have created such a series without my years in the classroom. It was no coincidence that I began writing The Tapestryduring my first year at a San Francisco high school. Teaching courses in U.S. history and studio art rekindled all sorts of creative impulses that had gone dormant during my years in corporate America. The energy, enthusiasm, and openness of my students were contagious and empowering.
As I sat down to write the first book, The Hound of Rowan, I did so with an updated sense of youth perspectives, aspirations, vulnerabilities, and voice. I didn’t need to guess how kids might act in class, anguish over crushes, or interact with their parents - I’ve seen it firsthand. Hopefully, these insights make their way into the characters, scenes, and dialogue so that they have an authenticity that resonates with readers.
Class discussions were another aspect of teaching that shaped The Tapestry. In the classroom, I often employed the Socratic method and tried to spark lively sessions in which students discussed and debated really hard questions. To what degree was the American Revolution inevitable? What, if anything, differentiates a religion from a cult or mythology? Is the use of preemptive force morally reprehensible or a pragmatic necessity? There are no “correct” answers to these questions; they are designed to task our knowledge, stretch our intellects, and force us to examine our own assumptions and values.
I’ve tried to populate The Tapestry with some of these same issues and inquiries. I’m not interested in creating one-dimensional characters or concocting scenarios where the right answer is easy or self-evident. Max McDaniels has noble impulses and nearly limitless potential, but he can be temperamental and his own worst enemy (sound like any students you know?). The villain Astaroth is a demon, but he is also truthful and even chivalrous. Astaroth doesn’t even consider himself “evil”, but rather a visionary whose end justifies the means. Rowan Academy might be engaged in a heroic struggle, but it – like most countries or institutions – has some dirty little secrets in its past and present. The Tapestry is filled with complex characters and because it’s a reflection of the world we live in. It may be fantasy, but there’s no reason why it can’t enrich our sense of the world and ourselves.
In The Tapestry’s latest installment, The Fiend and the Forge, I get to play with some of these questions on a grander scale. At this stage of the series, the world has been transformed and humans no longer occupy the top spot in the food chain. While pivotal inventions are plucked out of mankind’s past, new kingdoms have emerged along with new economies, political intrigues, and evolving cultures. For a history geek like me, it’s endless fun to explore the possibilities. But no matter how the story’s scale and scope might grow, Max and my readers are still wrestling with the same fundamental question – What are you about?
Aren’t we all?
For more information about Henry H. Neff and The Tapestry, please visit www.henryhneff.com
Henry’s post on 11/29: http://fantasybookcritic.
Henry’s post on 12/1: http://randomactsofreading.
Henry’s website: www.HenryNeff.com
Series Website: www.RowanAcademy.com
Thank you Henry H Neff for being apart of our blog today and to Random House for allowing us to be apart of the blog tour.