One day in early 1930, J. R. R. Tolkien, then a professor at Oxford, was grading his students’ papers. A sentence popped into his mind: “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.” It took Tolkien seven years to go from that line to The Hobbit being published. The book was a success, and readers wanted more.
Many years later, in the foreword to the second edition of The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien provided some more context on how the sort-of-sequel eventually came to life:
Those who had asked for more information about hobbits eventually got it, but they had to wait a long time; for the composition of The Lord of the Rings went on at intervals during the years 1936 to 1949, a period in which I had many duties that I did not neglect, and many other interests as a learner and teacher that often absorbed me.
Nonetheless it took another five years before the tale was brought to its present end; in that time I changed my house, my chair, and my college, and the days though less dark were no less laborious. Then when the ‘end’ had at last been reached the whole story had to be revised, and indeed largely re-written backwards. And it had to be typed, and re-typed: by me; the cost of professional typing by the ten-fingered was beyond my means.
That’s 17 years, for those keeping count. 17 years to write one book. A large one, but still: one book.
Of course, even before 1930, Tolkien had already spent 20 years writing stories and poems set in the Middle Earth universe. So, really, The Lord of the Rings is the work of a lifetime.
If one of history’s most beloved authors needed this long for his masterpiece to ripen, you needn’t worry: You have time—just make sure you spend it on what matters.
