Why And How I Wrote A Book About My Life
For the past 3.5 years I've been writing a memoir. The difficult process of unearthing, reliving, and ultimately putting to paper the wild (and frequently traumatic) stories of my life has been unlike any other experience I’ve had. Now, the writing is done and today I'm announcing one of the scariest, most vulnerable things I've ever put out into the world: "Dark Squares: How Chess Saved My Life."
Fun fact: when you write a book, the publisher limits what you can say about it until publication. You spend all this time unearthing stories, wrestling with what to include, and then are told to wait six months to share them with the public. So, instead of upsetting the good people at Hachette by revealing the wild stories (like being born into and raised in the Church of Immortal Consciousness or the tragic events that forcibly took me away from my mother), I want to share why I chose to write this book and the funny story of how I got here.
FLASHBACK:
In April of 2021, on an unsuspecting day at the Chess.com Headquarters, I met with a documentary film producer who told me that they, “wanted to make a documentary film about Danny Rensch." Although the chess world was booming (the terrible events that led to the "COVID-19 Boom", The Queen's Gambit show on Netflix, Pogchamps, etc), I was skeptical as to why they wanted to tell my story and not one about chess or Chess.com.
"Why me?" I asked.
"Well, we heard you were raised in a cult."
"Um, how'd you hear that?"
"A friend. And the internet."
A few months later I had come around to the idea of a documentary and was about to sign on the dotted line. It had taken many conversations, more than a few tears with the soon-to-be director, who I had learned to trust, and a lot of self-reflection to get me to a place where I felt ready to take this leap. I was scared about diving in, but also excited about the idea of bringing my two worlds together for the first time.
I'd never meant for more unusual and unlikely parts of my life to be secret, but I also had worked through (lots of therapy!) many years of coming to terms with what happened to me. I realized I always carried anxiety over whether people might someday want to talk to me about my crazy, painful childhood.
The director made me feel confident they would honor my story, and give me say-so over the very intimate details and "characters" who played major roles in my life. Plus, as the director said, this was going to be a quick process.
Let's do this, I thought.
And then Bobby Hall (better known as Logic, the rapper) ruined everything.
FLASHBACK:
Somewhere between the Summer and Fall of 2020 (I can't even remember when we had our first Zoom call.) Bobby and I had our first online chess lesson. He had reached out, and one thing led to another and we were fast developing a coach/student-friends-relationship. During one of those our Zoom chess lessons, Bobby and I would learn that we both, completely unbeknownst or coordinated with the other, had moved to Utah.
"Um, what!?". We both said. In so many R-Rated words...
About a year later, Bobby invited me over to hang for a night. We may have had a drink or two before watching a movie (Nothing To Lose, which I must say, should go down as Martin Lawrence's greatest work of all time) in Bobby's home theater, when the conversation led to the subject of my soon-to-be-filmed documentary. Bobby and I had already been sharing a lot about our shared struggles with anxiety, depression, and other issues from our very different yet oddly similar trauma-bonded childhoods, so getting deep wasn't hard. When Bobby found out I was getting set to move forward with the doc, he full stop told me, "No f*ing way you're doing a documentary, bro!" before standing up to pour us another.
To which I responded, "You can't tell me what to [CENSORED] do!".
Bobby would spend the next few hours telling me that he was just wrapping up a process to finish his own memoir, that he knew the documentary and Hollywood space better than me, and that no matter what, even if this production company had the best intentions, fitting a complex life into a 30 or 60 minute film comes with sacrifices. No short-film, however true, could possibly do my story justice. And that if I had already gotten through the most difficult step (i.e., being willing to share openly, authentically with the world what I had been through), that only a book could be the right medium to do so.
He convinced me.
And he backed it up by connecting me with the best agent in the literary space (love you, Sarah!) who, in turn, found me the best collaborator (you rock, Tanner!). Tanner had also just helped Bobby with his memoir, This Bright Future (if you haven't read it, check it out now! Bobby's life is truly inspiring and the book is a wildly entertaining read). With their help, this overwhelming endeavor suddenly felt possible.
A few months later, after pulling together a written 'proposal' (basically a movie trailer for a book) and going through a wild interview and auction process, I found myself with some of the biggest publishing companies in the world bidding on my story. In the end, Hachette and their non-fiction subsidiary, Public Affairs, secured the rights to my (then untitled) memoir.
Tanner and I had a tall task ahead of us, and Hachette agreed. We all realized that this was basically two books in one - one is the story of someone raised in a cult who overcame unique challenges, and the second is the story of helping to found and build Chess.com. Thank goodness for Tanner, whose stellar reputation I quickly realized was well-earned. He believed it would be manageable and even suggested we’d finish in about a year—assuming nothing too crazy got in the way.
Then came the PMG acquisition, the biggest cheating scandal in chess history, multiple chess booms, and this does not even include the events I still can’t legally discuss. Three and a half years later, we were still trying to finish the book.
If I’d known what an ordeal it would be, I’m not sure I would’ve agreed to it in the first place.
PRESENT:
Despite the rollercoaster of events and emotions that turned my original plan of a 10-hour documentary filming session into a 3.5-year trial, I'd say I'm happy I did it (or at least I am happy it’s done).
I committed to writing this book because I saw an opportunity to understand myself better. Period. It was selfish in all the best ways and for the right reasons. The truth I now realize is that I was still in the middle of so much emotional fallout from 'The Collective' (the term for the group used by members of The Church of Immortal Consciousness). More than anything I had ever done (including therapy), this represented a chance to reflect on and understand what I had been through.
Plus, it gave me an opportunity to connect my two worlds in a way that I had long been unsure would ever be possible. I felt that, for the first time, I would be able to live in the public eye of the chess world while being transparent with the facts of a deeply troubled, lonely childhood and adolescence that ultimately got me to where I am today.
The turbulence of my life, and the sadness I carried with it, not only shaped me into who I am today, but in many ways, was required in order for me to arrive as Chess.com's Chief Chess Officer (wtf does that title even mean, btw? Can someone talk to Erik about this?). For better or worse, this is who I am. Grateful for where I’ve come from and what I have achieved. And so proud of what the chess world has accomplished.
And I guess that's it, for now.
Much love, everyone.
PS: Yea, if you are interested, you can pre-order my book now.