And as movie time rolls around, Ionia huddles in fear, sobbing.

[Ionia Luffs Reindeer]

So what am I scared of?<P>I read LOTR when I was around twelve, way back when (*coughs* three years ago). Although it kind of slipped from my memory, I've always considered it one of my favourite books. After a while, though, almost all traces of it were wiped from my memory... I only remembered little things, stupid things, like suggesting a friend name her new pony Bill, and things like that. Things that anyone who'd seen the animated film could do, truth be told. <P>But a few months ago I saw a preview for the FOTR movie while watching Pearl Harbour (which, by the way, sucked), and was blown away by the sheer intensity of a trailer. All these waves came rushing back at me, sitting around at home after doing my homework and devouring The Two Towers (my favourite bit of the book), and how much I truly missed the novel, even though I hadn't realized it. Even this, though, faded away with time. It took a "Making of the Lord of the Rings" special for me to drag my rear to a bookstore and cough up (half) the cash for Fellowship. <P>I finished it in three days, and the other two bits soon after, maybe a week in all.<P>I now find myself wishing I knew how to write in Elvish and spending free class time memorizing bits of poetry off the pages, and every waking thought consumed with LOTR and reading every book about the topic (not to mention movie review) I can. I've been dubbed a true dork by my friends, to my immense pride.<P>The trouble? <P>Shallow as it may sound, I am terrified that as the movie rolls around, and I'm standing in line next Wednesday, opening day, my advance tickets clutched firmly in my gold-fingered hand, I'm going to be dismissed as a movie-whore who doesn't appreciate the depth of what Middle-Earth really is. And even worse, I'm afraid it might be true. As much as I try to shake it, I immediately attach my mental image of Frodo to a pale, cherubic, chubby-faced blue-eyed guy with curly black hair who's about a foot too tall. Exactly like Elijah Wood, truth be known. I've forgotten, have lost, whatever mental image it was that I had at the age of twelve. It's the same with the rest of the characters as well... I feel ashamed that it took a movie to grab my attention again, and force me back to appreciation of the greatness of the novel. It sounds disgusting, it sounds shallow, it sounds like I'm a whiny teenaged brat with nothing better to do than worry what people think about her. And maybe I am. But I just need reassurance. Some reassurance that I, at least, am vaguely authentic. Sort of.<P>I don't want to be grouped in with the Elijah Wood junkies raving about Tolkien who've never touched the book.<P>?<P>PS: I'm new. Welcome me. >:]