This UBC prof’s novel is being adapted for Netflix

UBC professor Annabel Lyon’s award‑winning debut novel The Golden Mean, about Aristotle and the teenage Alexander who would become “the Great”, is heading to the screen in a new Netflix TV adaptation titled Alexander. It is being developed by Heated Rivalry showrunner Jacob Tierney.

Lyon, who leads UBC’s School of Creative Writing, spoke to UBC News about the project and why the story still resonates today.

How did it feel to learn an adaptation was officially moving ahead?

Absolutely thrilled. Jacob Tierney first approached me about the rights in 2014, and kept renewing the option over the years. This January, after the success of Heated Rivalry, he wrote to say the project had real momentum. I watched the show that night and immediately understood why he connected with The Golden Mean. He’s so sensitive in how he handles young men navigating desire, identity and responsibility and that confirmed he’s the right person for this story.

I’m also excited to see what new ideas he finds. He’s adapting this in 2026, not in 2009 when the book was published, so he’ll bring a fresh lens—and as a lover of historical drama, I can’t wait to see the sets, the horses, the costumes, the sex, everything!

For people new to the book, what’s at the heart of The Golden Mean?

It’s an intimate look at two towering historical figures whose inner lives remain largely unknown. I imagined a multi‑year relationship between Aristotle and a teenage Alexander—part mentorship, part parenting, part philosophy. Alexander grows into a brilliant but volatile young man, and Aristotle has to face what he can and cannot shape in someone destined for immense power.

What sparked the idea for the novel?

I studied philosophy, so Aristotle has long fascinated me. After 9/11, I struggled to read and write fiction. I returned to Aristotle’s ethics almost out of comfort, while also reading accounts of soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. I began thinking about how ancient ideas of virtue, courage, fear and leadership intersect with modern understandings of trauma, depression and the emotional costs of wars.

I wanted to write a novel set in the ancient world, but shaped by contemporary questions: What does it mean to be a good person? A good citizen? How do we live ethically in violent times?

Why do you think the themes still resonate now?

Sadly, some themes never go out of date: ambition, militarism, the seduction of conquering and the damage violence inflicts on people. When I wrote it, my frame of reference was soldiers returning from Afghanistan; today, readers may think of conflicts reshaping lives right now.

We’re a species that is both deeply curious and deeply destructive. That struggle—between engaging with the world and controlling it—feels profoundly modern. Alexander embodied that tension: He was drawn both to conquest and to deep curiosity about the world—learning languages, eating local food, trying to understand the cultures he encountered. He also showed signs of what we’d now call PTSD.

But another part that feels urgent today is sexuality. Alexander likely had lifelong male lovers, most notably Hephaestion, and relationships between men were widely accepted in his world. In a time of resurgent anti‑LGBTQ sentiment, telling stories that treat queer lives as ordinary and fully human feels important. It’s one reason I’m confident Jacob can make the adaptation resonate now.

For readers who want to stay in this world, how can they engage further?

There’s a companion novel, The Sweet Girl, told from the perspective of Aristotle’s daughter, Pythias. It begins after Alexander’s death and explores the worlds women inhabited—religion, superstition and the subtle forms of power they held. If readers enjoy the world of The Golden Mean, they’ll find a lot to dive into there.

I also teach an online course at UBC that’s open to the public called How to Write a Novel, with my colleague Nancy Lee. We cover outlining, drafting, revising and preparing a manuscript for publication, all based on what we’ve learned writing our own books.