J.R.R. Tolkien Day: Honoring the Storyteller Who Took Us There and Back Again

I didn’t grow up reading Tolkien. My dad tried — bless him — but ten-year-old me wasn’t interested in epic quests or mysterious maps. I wanted mysteries, thrills, and page-turners, not mountain treks and dragons.

But years later, something changed:

Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings films arrived… and suddenly, I found myself stepping beside Frodo, Sam, Aragorn — and then, curiously, back to Bilbo Baggins.

I finally opened The Hobbit… and I fell headlong into Middle-earth.

I think that’s the magic of Tolkien. His worlds don’t just invite you in — they reshape how you imagine your own.

Today, on J.R.R. Tolkien Day, I want to honor the man who took us “there and back again,” celebrate the richness of his worlds, and reflect on how his storytelling nudged me toward writing my own adventures.

For many authors, stories begin with characters.

For Tolkien, stories began with language.

A scholar of Old English, Norse, and ancient philology, Tolkien didn’t merely create fantasy names — he crafted entire languages first, then built cultures and histories around them.

Middle-earth wasn’t an accident. It was a lifetime of scholarly curiosity turned into art.

Tolkien drew inspiration from ancient myths, medieval texts, European folklore, and even the trenches of World War I.

But he braided them into something new — a world that felt old, familiar, and yet unlike anything that existed before.

That merging of study and creativity became the seed of modern fantasy.

And through all that brilliance, his stories remain deeply human — full of courage, friendship, loss, and hope.

I enjoy The Lord of the Rings — truly. But The Hobbit holds a special place for me.

There’s something irresistible about Bilbo Baggins: a comfortable homebody suddenly swept into a world too big, too wild, too unexpected.

I think I relate to him. Many of us do.

Bilbo isn’t chosen by prophecy or born of royal lineage. He’s just Bilbo — curious, reluctant, polite, often flustered, and unintentionally brave. And that makes his journey feel like an invitation.

Every conversation with Gandalf.

Every riddle with Gollum.

Every unexpected moment of courage.

It all feels like Tolkien whispering: Adventure finds the most unlikely people.

And maybe that’s why The Hobbit lit a spark in me — the same spark that made me want to write magical creatures and epic journeys of my own.

Let’s be honest: Tolkien loved describing landscapes.

Pages of them.

Many pages.

And while I admire his mastery, that’s not my instinct as a writer. I’m much happier creating mythical creatures, charting magical adventures, crafting dialogue, and sending heroes through impossible trials — without spending quite as many paragraphs on every tree branch.

Still, Tolkien taught me something invaluable.

His worlds weren’t just settings. They were living places — shaped by languages, histories, legends, and choices.

Reading him made me want to build worlds with heart. It’s why I wrote The Swallowtail Four series for young readers… and why I have my adult fantasy trilogies waiting in the wings.

He gave me permission to write boldly — even wildly — and trust that readers would follow.

Tolkien didn’t just create worlds. He created worldbuilders.

January 3 is Tolkien’s birthday. Around the world, fans mark the day in countless ways — big and small.

Whether you’re new to his work or a devoted Middle-earth traveler, here are a few cozy ways to celebrate:

Celebrating Tolkien doesn’t have to be grand. Sometimes it’s just pausing to honor the man who gifted us Middle-earth.

This part is optional… but then again, so was Bilbo’s adventure.

If you want to explore Middle-earth energy in your own creative way, here’s a gentle challenge:

1. Make a list of five mythical creatures that fascinate you.

• They can be Tolkien-inspired (elves, dwarves, ents…)

• Or entirely invented

2. Pick one setting — a forest clearing, a mountain pass, a candlelit library…

Now:

3. Write a short scene where your hero encounters as many of the five creatures as you dare.

It can be funny, frightening, whimsical, epic — whatever you want.

You don’t need a ring, a sword, or a wizard. Just curiosity… and a willingness to step “there and back again.”