1. My forthcoming book, Tecumseh: A Biography, is now available for pre-order directly from Greenwood Press and from Amazon.com.
2. Pop Thought has just conducted a new interview with me (published Jan. 3, 2008) about the book. You can read it here.
3. Also today, a new review of my Past Watchful Dragons: Fantasy and Faith in the World of C.S. Lewis book went up at Sword of Gryffindor here.
4. I will be interviewed on Woodland Star New Radio (which is accessible via computer here) on Sunday, January 6, 2008 at 6:55pm EST for approximately 40 minutes about my scholarly work regarding J.R.R. Tolkien. The show is entitled "An Afternoon of Wandering with Frodo and Dr. Amy H. Sturgis through Mirkwood Forest." Listeners can email questions before the interview (email@example.com) or call in live to ask questions during the interview.
Amy H. Sturgis is an author, speaker, and scholar of Native American Studies and Science Fiction/Fantasy Studies. She earned her Ph.D. in Intellectual History from Vanderbilt University. Currently she teaches Interdisciplinary Studies at Belmont University, serves on the Scholarly Board of The Tennessee Center for Policy Research and the Advisory Board of Mythopoeic Press, and contributes to the Liberty and Power group weblog.
Sturgis is author of four books on U.S. Presidential History and Native American Studies, three edited works on science fiction and fantasy, and dozens of other scholarly and popular book chapters, articles, and presentations. In 2006, she was honored with the Imperishable Flame Award for Achievement in Tolkien/Inklings Scholarship by Heren Istarion.
Sturgis lives in Granite Falls, North Carolina with her husband, Dr. Larry M. Hall, who is Executive Vice President for Academic Affairs and Dean of the College at Lenoir-Rhyne College.
Thanks for letting me share this news with you, my friends! May you have a wonderful day.
In honor of J.R.R. Tolkien's birthday today, here is Tolkienian goodness from The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, the song of Beren and Lúthien:
The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinúviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.
There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wander flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following.
Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
She tightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest listening.
He heard there oft the flying sound
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
In hidden hollows quavering.
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,
And one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beechen leaves
In the wintry woodland wavering.
He sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
As on a hill-top high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.
When winter passed, she came again,
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water bubbling.
He saw the elven-flowers spring
About her feet, and healed again.
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.
Again she fled, but swift he came.
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinúviel
That in his arms lay glistening.
As Beren looked into her eyes
Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinúviel the elven-fair,
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.
Long was the way that fate them bore,
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,
Through halls of iron and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.