Try New Ways to Tell America’s Story
With the semiquincentennial of the Declaration of Independence rapidly approaching, I have good news and bad news to share. On the sunny side, most Americans still have a generally favorable view of the American experiment. A recent Cato Institute survey found that 92 percent of respondents—including 87 percent of those aged 18 to 29—agreed the Declaration of Independence has been “a force for good in the world,” with 84 percent also expressing a positive view of the U.S. Constitution and two-thirds saying they think the Founders would be disappointed with how far modern America has strayed from the country’s foundational principles.
The bad news? Polls also show that large swaths of Americans don’t actually know much about those principles. One 2025 survey found that most were unable to identify the freedoms of religion, assembly, petition, and the press as protected alongside freedom of speech in the First Amendment. More than two-thirds of Americans failed a basic civic-literacy quiz. As for the Declaration of Independence itself, when Cato asked respondents to identify the main reason 13 North American colonies revolted against British rule—to oppose taxation without representation—most either supplied the wrong answer or none at all. Among young respondents, only 35 percent got the question right.
I don’t think responsible citizenship requires Jeopardy-level knowledge of history and civics. Nor is it reasonable to insist every American share the same view of the Founders and their handiwork. But I do believe a healthy republic requires a critical mass of citizens with a firm grasp of its origins, institutions, and guiding principles. Without it, even meaningful disagreement becomes impossible.
Humans aren’t Vulcans or robots. We are storytelling creatures.
This is an all-hands-on-deck problem. I favor more and better investment in civics education, in public events and memorials, and in engaging nonfiction such as the recent Ken Burns documentary on PBS. I also happen to think that engaging fiction has a role to play.
Humans aren’t Vulcans or robots. We are storytelling creatures. Our progenitors imparted knowledge and built community by sharing tales around the fire. Our brains are wired to respond favorably to narrative. One 2015 study found that when sixth-graders read historical novels about Ancient Greece, their interest in the subject went up—as did their test scores. In another study, researchers set up an experiment. Some students were assigned to classrooms where they read novels about the Salem witch trials, slavery, and the American Revolution. Others were assigned to classrooms where they studied the same content from a textbook. The novel readers recalled twice as much content as the textbook readers.
Taking such findings to heart, I decided in 2020 to write a historical-fantasy series set in early America and aimed at teens and precocious tweens as well as adults. My first novel, Mountain Folk, was published the following year and set primarily during the Revolutionary War. Subsequent works in the Folklore Cycle include Forest Folk (2022), which depicts the War of 1812 and the beginnings of the abolitionist movement; Water Folk (2024), which depicts westward expansion, the Alamo, and the Mexican-American War; and three novelettes that tell other stories of early American history, settlement, and conflict.
What do I mean by historical fantasy? Well, real-life figures such as Daniel Boone, Alexander Hamilton, Davy Crockett, and Sojourner Truth are major characters in the Folklore Cycle. But so are elves, dwarves, mages, and monsters. I don’t alter the basic facts of American history. Instead, I use fantastical elements to beckon my readers and keep them engaged—as well as to help them remember key facts. For example, I depict General Washington’s complicated attack on Germantown in 1777 and show, accurately, how he came close to victory before a thick fog caused the Americans to lose cohesion and fire on each other. In my version, though, the fog is magical, not natural.
The novel readers recalled twice as much content as the textbook readers.
As for the politics of the Revolution, I have a fairy character disobey his orders and aid the American cause. Put on trial for treason, he defends himself with extensive quotations from Thomas Paine’s Common Sense while the prosecution quotes another historical document, Plain Talk, written by a Tory in response to Common Sense. And when Washington, Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson, or other Founders speak in my books, I’m usually either using their recorded words verbatim or lightly rewriting them to fit the scene in question.
Among the thousands who’ve enjoyed my Folklore Cycle tales are readers as young as nine as well as parents, professionals, politicians, and even a few history professors! “Beyond the epic fantasy itself,” wrote one newspaper columnist, “the best magic in Mountain Folk is the sorcery that will make early American history accessible to a wide swath of ages, tween to adult, who would otherwise eschew the subject. Not since John Jakes’ The American Bicentennial series has the story of our nation’s founding been so engaging and approachable.” That’s what I was going for—although I am certainly no John Jakes, David McCullough, or Rick Atkinson. I have no illusions of fixing America’s civics deficit by myself. What I think will be required, in fact, is a wide variety of stories, told many different ways. We need to rekindle an abiding interest in the Founding era and what it wrought, including the Declaration of Independence.
Patriotic music? Of course. Fireworks? You bet. But if that’s all most Americans experience during our long semiquincentennial—from 2026 until the 250th birthday of the Constitution in 2037—we’ll have missed a golden opportunity. Let’s also engage, inspire, and teach.
About the Author
John Hood is president of the John William Pope Foundation and a syndicated columnist.