Many history aficionados get a bit touchy when “outsiders” label something from history “boring.” Like, anything. There’s so much we find fascinating or important or connected or just… weird that it’s easy to take it a bit personally when someone labels our interests “lame” (even when they soften such declarations with more moderate language).
And yet, if we’re being entirely honest, there are some things in history – even U.S. history – which are serious yawners. That doesn’t mean they’re not important, or connected to things which are interesting. It doesn’t mean we don’t need to know them. It’s just that they’re, well…
Boring.
Whether you’re a high school history student, working your way through college, or simply read history for personal enrichment or a temporary escape from horror and embarrassment you feel at everything going on around you today, you’ve no doubt noticed how often you’re expected to zero in on stuff with no intrinsic traction at ALL – tariff policies, the Bessemer Process, anti-trust legislation, Jimmy Carter…
I mean, there was that thing where he was attacked by a bunny in the middle of a lake, but other than that… *SNORE*.
And yet, a number of these “boring” things keep showing up in state curriculums and standardized exams. Even AP U.S. History (insert all the usual disclaimers about how I don’t work for the College Board and they haven’t blessed my efforts with a cyan acorn) loves diving deep into stuff the rest of us would never think to get that excited about – the impact of new technologies on immigration patterns, fiscal policy tensions between nineteenth century political parties… even Jimmy Carter.
Seriously. They ask SOMETHING about him EVERY YEAR.
There are plenty of titles out there promising you the most interesting, unknown, or shocking stories from American history. Many of them deliver quite effectively. That’s a good thing. I love history, and I’m thrilled any time one of my betters finds a way to make it fresh and real to a new audience. If you want exciting tales from our collective past, they’re easy enough to find.
What I haven’t come across are titles focusing on the boring bits. If you want anything more than cursory coverage of the Hartford Convention, the American System and its contributions to sectional tensions, or the Populist Party, you generally have to commit to some rather hefty academic volumes. It feels like your options are either Wikipedia or enrolling in a master’s degree program focused entirely on the pros and cons of centralized banking.
Nothing wrong with either of those, but I figured we needed a third option.
“Have To” History: The Boring Parts covers all the stuff you really don’t want to know (but for some reason have to) about the most boring events, people, and issues in American history. Each chapter opens with the “Three Big Things” you just gotta gotta know about the topic, followed by historical context and any other essential background to help you make sense of the whole mess. It’s intended to be useful and engaging for students and adult readers alike. (It could prove helpful for many teachers as well, but we’re a touchy bunch and I couldn’t figure out how to say that without it sounding like I think we don’t all know everything about everything already.) Most importantly, there’s an ineffable “cool factor” which descends around you the moment you’re spotted reading it in any setting.
I’ve been surprised and flattered by the relative success (don’t read too much into that – my expectations were modest) of my first effort, “Have To” History: Landmark Supreme Court Cases. I was then humbled by the complete lack of, well… anything in response to the second, “Have To” History: A Wall of Education. Still, that one is a bit of an outlier, focused on a much more specific topic and written to scratch an itch of my own.
So, if I can be real a second – for just a millisecond – let my guard down and tell the #11FF how I feel a second…
I’m genuinely proud of this latest book. I mean, just between you and me, it’s pretty damn good. I sometimes wish I hadn’t written it, just so I could read it for the first time and experience what you’re about to! Seriously, I get a bit teary just thinking about it.
I’d love it if you saw fit to check it out. If you happen to like it, please keep in mind that written reviews are everything on Amazon – good ones, mixed ones, even bad ones if you really think the book sucks. (It doesn’t. That kind of attitude is why no one likes you.) It’s available as an e-book, in paperback, and even in hardback… but I don’t know why you’d order it in hardback unless you’re a library. And if you’re a library, I’d probably send you one just for reading this.
I’d also love to hear from you if you do read the book (or any of my books). Effusive praise and sycophancy is ideal, but I’ll accept constructive criticism or suggestions as well (as far as you know). In the meantime, keep breathing. Keep connecting. Keep clinging to truth and caring for the people you love. It matters.