On my 11th birthday, my father gave me a copy of “The Hobbit” to read. From those first words, “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit,” I was glued to every word of every page.

Then, I saw the Rankin & Bass 1977 cartoon and was utterly disappointed. I went back to the book and never went back. And, when it was announced Peter Jackson would be producing a three-installment series of films based on “The Lord of the Rings,” I was nearly as disappointed — until I saw “Fellowship of the Ring.”

Of all the books of my childhood, few were as enjoyable to me as “The Hobbit.” And, as Jackson’s rendition of the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy unfolded on film, I pined for the day he would take up what was, at least in my mind, the better story.