I play chess. I enjoy playing chess. I am not a good chess player.
Maybe once, I could loosely claim to being reasonably decent, but it was a long time (and a whole load of practise) ago. Having taught my daughter to play, she now regularly unleashes her can of whoop-ass on my King’s Indian defence. The 1400/1500 bots I once minced on chess.com, currently make me look like a mug.
But, the lesson remains.
Chess helps me write. Simples. The reason… painstakingly finding solutions to predicaments. Whether you like chess or not, it’s been incredibly useful for me, and the lessons resonate to this day. The thing is, you’re playing either the long game, or a fast game (called Blitz). In writing, you’re always playing the long game.
And there are different paths you take if you’re developing a piece or a specific tactic; moves that include: Blunder, Mistake, Book, Good, Classic, Excellent, etc. How does writing differ? Well, to some extent, it doesn’t.
However, I’m wedging a firm disclaimer right here, because in no way shape or form do I want to discount the importance of i.n.s.p.i.r.a.t.i.o.n as a tool for getting you from A>B. What I’m referring to here, are the hard days, where we don’t see the end game in the same way Beth Harmon did. Most authors can’t play out an entire book on the ceiling of our dorm. In fact, without the necessary mental stamina – of parry, and riposte – we can checkmate our own book to death long before committing our fingers to the keys.
So, what of a Gambit… as in Queen’s Gambit? A gambit is a sacrifice, for the chance of superior position on the board. It’s risky, and needs to be played adeptly to take full advantage. Sometimes, trusting inspiration to take you forward is the gambit in writing. Of course, the other gambit, is your time (imbued with hope) to keep you pushing to the finish line; keep believing you’re making good moves.
The fascinating paradox in all of this is, is when you look up at the opposing player. You know, the challenger, the grandmaster, the expert… And then you realise, the only true opponent is actually you! You’re defeating yourself to win. Go figure that. The prize: book finished, published.
Woah, this is suddenly getting all meta. 😊
The long and short is, I am massively grateful for the lessons this complex, beautiful game has taught me. Walter Tevis, who wrote the Queen’s Gambit, saw the significance (even though, I suspect his first love was shooting pool), as did Anna Taylor Joy, who not only studied Garry Kasparov to perform her role, but – not unsurprisingly – still plays the game to this day.
Writing friends, consider learning this wonderful game. Its benefits are unsurpassed.
Here’s a link to Chess.com:
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Bonus Pic Feature. My Staunton chessboard (given to me as a wonderful gift in 2013).
