The Road goes ever on: A novice writer’s journey with J. R. R. Tolkien

I was thirteen years old when I first encountered J.R.R. Tolkien’s amazing world of Middle-earth. Director Peter Jackson’s film adaptations of The Lord of the Rings were about to take theaters by storm, but at the time I would not have described myself as a fantasy fan. Unlike many kids of my generation, I wasn’t immediately enthralled by J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. For whatever reason, the adventures of the boy wizard just didn’t do much for me.

As it happened, my mom had been reading a magazine article about how Tolkien’s fantasy universe—his “legendarium”—was informed by his deep and devout Catholic faith. The piece was accompanied by an illustration of the wizard Gandalf the Grey, complete with staff, flowing robes, and pointy hat. Fresh from my disappointment with Harry Potter, I rolled my eyes and scoffed: “Ugh! Wizards again?” Unfazed, my mother gently suggested that I look over the article for myself before passing judgement. Sighing, I took the magazine from her and began reading, completely unaware that I had just embarked on the first stage of a life-altering adventure, an abiding fascination with the world of Middle-earth and the fantasy genre at large that would lead me along a path to becoming a professional writer.

After devouring the article, and re-reading it several times, I quickly abandoned my initial skepticism about Tolkien. I needed to know more! I soon purchased paperback copies of The Lord of the Rings trilogy from the nearest bookstore and before long I found myself utterly engrossed in Middle-earth. I found the attention to detail with which Tolkien crafted his fictional universe (or “sub-creation”) to be absolutely staggering. Middle-earth is thoroughly consistent and utterly believable, complete with its own languages, history, geography, nations, and peoples. I felt transported to a realm as real as our own, and I had no intention of leaving.

Tolkien’s work opened broad new vistas for my imagination, expanding my notions of what was possible in fiction. In his landmark essay “On Fairy-Stories”, first given as a lecture in 1939, Tolkien sums up better than I ever could the wonder and beauty and joy of fantasy:

The realm of fairy-story is wide and deep and high and filled with many things: all manner of beasts and birds are found there; shoreless seas and stars uncounted; beauty that is an enchantment, and an ever present peril; both joy and sorrow as sharp as swords.

Before I discovered Middle-earth, I had toyed with the idea of becoming a writer. But aside from a few clumsy and incomplete attempts, I had never pursued the hard work of developing my talents seriously. Reading The Lord of the Rings for the first time kindled a smoldering fire within my soul. I knew then and there that it was my vocation to be a writer. I wanted to craft a beautiful tale after the fashion of my new literary hero, and I wanted to share it with others.

I kept this dream alive throughout high school, but when the time came to choose a major in college, I took a detour along the path and followed my other great passion: the natural sciences. I studied anthropology and paleontology and fulfilled a lifelong ambition to work in a natural history museum. Yet always in the back of my mind, like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch, was a desire to be a novelist.

In the years after graduation, I struggled to find steady work in my field. Then, at the height of the pandemic, I found myself without a job—and out of excuses. I took a leap of faith and began to pursue a career as a wordsmith.

Over the next couple of years, I wrote many freelance articles and essays, exploring the fantasy and science fiction genres through a Catholic lens. I used my free time to write some short stories. While these remained unpublished, they were good practice attempts. But soon I became restless and a bit obsessed with writing an epic fantasy novel on the model of The Lord of the Rings. I felt, to quote from Tolkien himself, “the desire of a tale-teller to try his hand at a really long story that would hold the attention of readers, amuse them, delight them, and at times maybe excite them or deeply move them.”

As I did more research into Tolkien’s lesser-known works, I became fascinated with “The New Shadow,” an unfinished sequel to The Lord of the Rings. Perhaps I could write a fantasy novel that would match the darker and grittier tone of the master’s abandoned novel? I soon found I wasn’t anywhere near ready for such an audacious undertaking. I encountered a seemingly impenetrable writer’s block and, frustrated by creative dead ends, I soon gave up on that project.

All novice writers pass through an imitative phase. I began to learn that as much as any writer adores his literary heroes, he can’t be them. To truly grow in the craft, a writer needs to strike out on his own, find his own unique style and voice. I needed to find the courage to step out from under Tolkien’s imposing shadow. Many fantasy novelists haven’t. Browse the shelves of the sci-fi/fantasy section of any bookstore and you will encounter a small library’s worth of Tolkien-imitators.

Indeed, the path forged by Tolkien has become too well trodden. Middle-earth grew out of Tolkien’s passion for languages and his expert knowledge of philology. It was clear to me that I had to begin mining my own experiences and my own particular knowledge of subjects I’m passionate about in order to craft all new worlds, new heroes, and new adventures. It’s a process that I’m still learning. But I’m confident that if I can harness the enthusiasm of my thirteen-year-old self, the kid who first fell in love with fantasy thanks to The Lord of the Rings, then I can capture and ignite the elusive spark that we call “originality.”

I often find myself meditating on the poem that Bilbo Baggins, recites in The Fellowship of the Ring as he leaves his comfortable home of Bag End forever:

The Road goes ever on and on,
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

For any aspiring author, the Road of creativity does truly seem to go on forever, with innumerable branching pathways and surprising detours. And one never knows what “unexpected journeys” one may land in along the way. As Bilbo once remarked: “You step into the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.” My journey as a writer is just beginning and I can’t predict where the road ahead might take me – but I can’t wait to find out!