Loved this book when I played. Carried it around for a long time. It gave me my taste for Suttles.

Larsen was a writer who knew the dangers of being one.

The worst case was when I wrote my 50 Selected Games. My wife brought the English MS to the post office just the day I left for Puerto Rico. At Puerto Rico, I had original ideas – that was not the trouble – but in some games I suddenly realized that I had played stupidly and my opponent had played stupidly and that this game should never be published – and then I lost all interest and played terribly. I became too much of a perfectionist. I lost many games because of this.

And this, such an interesting observation:

In England chess writing is a special thing; English players write when they are 20 – it is too young. It is very bad for their chess. In other countries they do not become writers so early.

I've been wondering, since reading these comments, if it is necessarily true: it is certainly often true.

Surely it partly depends on what one is writing. A book of games - or hands in bridge - where publishability depends on aesthetic or such like considerations - yes, I can quite see the distractability quotient there.

But what about if one is writing, for example, a 'how to play' book. My own experience - and I'm talking about bridge, not chess - is that the process of writing, and therefore thinking about, the most basic elements of the game really makes you play well. Hmmm. Let me put that somewhat differently. I'm sure it is possible to write badly about how to play and this certainly won't help you play better.

But if you think profoundly, in the deepest analytical way, about what is happening at that basic level, it is fantastic for your own game, I promise you!

Part of becoming a good player is hardwiring the sort of information I'm talking about. Nonetheless, the process of conscious consideration of it doesn't conflict with the hardwiring, it seems to complement it.



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