David Anaxagoras is joining us today to talk about his audiobook, The Tower. Here’s the publisher’s description:
When 12-year-old Kolby finds himself captive in the penthouse of a 75-story skyscraper with no memory of who he is or how he got there, he must work together with other young captives to unravel the mysteries of the tower before its ultimate, terrifying purpose can be fulfilled.
What’s David’s favorite bit?
The Tower had a long gestation period and evolved over the course of a few years, but from the
start, I knew I wanted to write about a different kind of boy protagonist. Not the sassy, cocky,
quippy sarcasm machine. Not the chosen one, preordained to save the world. Not someone with
secret powers. Even though the story is supernatural, I wanted a hero who was very ordinary—a
boy whose strength came from his vulnerability, his empathy, and his concern for others. A kid
who leads not by force, but by refusing to be what the system wants him to be.
Kolby begins the book as vulnerable as a character can get. He wakes up in the Tower naked,
disoriented, and without his memory—utterly exposed, physically and emotionally. Throughout
the story, he wonders what kind of boy he is and he slowly pieces that puzzle together as he
navigates the Tower’s confusion and chaos.
One of my favorite bits of Kolby is his insatiable curiosity. It’s baked into his character from the
start. While most of the other kids have settled into complacency—mollified by the toys, games,
and other distractions the Tower miraculously manifests for them—Kolby refuses to accept
anything at face value. He digs deeper—sometimes literally, as he discovers a horror beneath the
polished marble floor of the penthouse or, later, as he uncovers the terrifying truth of the Tower’s
real purpose on the level below. But these horrors don’t harden him or rob him of hope. Instead,
they make him more determined to take a stand and to save not just himself but everyone trapped
with him.
I love how open Kolby is with the irrepressible and unfiltered Elías, his closest friend in the
Tower. Their bond is warm and funny in that wonderful way middle-grade friendships can be.
Elías brings lightness and charm, and Kolby never tries to outshine him or act tougher than he is.
Even though Elías is younger and smaller, he looks out for Kolby. He’s the first kid Kolby meets
in the Tower, and his kindness defines their relationship. It also gives Kolby a path to caring for
others, despite his desperation to escape.
Then there’s Gen, the Tower’s de facto leader. She’s Kolby’s opposite—his cautionary tale—and
she’s hardened herself against the world, or at least the world she’s trapped in. She carries the
impossible burden of holding things together while keeping a terrible secret about the fate that
awaits them all. When she’s gravely injured by the Tower’s agents, it’s Kolby who tends to her—
making sure she rests, cooking for her, providing comfort. That’s Kolby at his most heroic. He
doesn’t need to be in charge; he needs to be useful, in the quietest, most human way.
But Kolby isn’t a pushover or soft. In his confrontations with the Tower and its attempts to
dehumanize the kids, Kolby’s fight is to maintain his humanity and resist. He stands his ground
at great personal risk, but he never loses sight of his own or anyone else’s humanity. He keeps
trying to figure out who he is—what kind of boy he wants to be—and to rebuild himself.
His refusal to stop questioning, to stop caring, is what defines Kolby’s heroism. And it’s what
makes him a threat to the Tower itself. Because the Tower isn’t just a setting—it’s a system, a
beautifully designed trap. It gives the kids everything they want—food, shelter, entertainment,
distraction—so long as they don’t ask questions. So long as they stay passive. Most kids do.
They stop wondering. They get comfortable. And if you’ve read the book, you know what
happens to the ones who stop resisting. The punishment for fighting the Tower can be severe, but
the consequences of giving up are far worse. For everyone.
Kolby never gives up.
Even in the final act—which I won’t spoil—he doesn’t win by outsmarting the system or by
overpowering it. He wins by refusing to be turned against his friends. He wins by being the
same vulnerable, kind, persistent boy he was from the very beginning. He never stops being
Kolby.
I’m no hero, not now and certainly not when I was twelve. I’m not superpowered and I’m no good
with a bow and arrow. How can an ordinary boy face down extraordinary evil? That’s my
favorite bit. Kolby is a boy who doesn’t change to become a hero. Kolby doesn’t need to “man
up” or “get tough” or engage in an 80s-style training montage to win. He’s an ordinary boy who
is a hero because he refuses to stop being his kind, caring, empathetic self. That’s the kind of boy
I would have wanted to read about. And I hope he’s the kind of boy someone out there is still
waiting to meet.
LINKS:
BIO:
David Anaxagoras is the author of The Tower, a middle-grade horror audiobook from Recorded Books about monsters, resistance, and the fight to stay human. His short fiction has appeared frequently in Lightspeed and elsewhere. He created and co-executive produced Gortimer Gibbon’s Life on Normal Street, Amazon Prime Video’s award-winning coming-of-age series where ordinary streets hide extraordinary secrets. A disabled writer and reluctant Texan, David writes full time and is fueled by cold brew coffee, 80s vinyl, and stubborn optimism.
