Samuel DenHartog's Blog: The Road to 1,440 - Posts Tagged "writing"

My journey as a writer began with a fervent interest in science fiction, fantasy, and mystery novels. With their boundless imagination and intricate plots, these genres seemed like the perfect medium to explore the vast expanses of human creativity and curiosity. While deeply in love with my wife, I have never felt very romantic. Romance, with its stereotypical associations, didn't initially catch my interest and is not something I thought I would write about. It felt too distant from the speculative and enigmatic worlds I was drawn to. However, an unexpected revelation changed my perspective entirely.

I realized that the universal theme of human connection lies at the core of every narrative, whether set in a distant galaxy, a fantastical realm, or a mysterious setting. This epiphany led me to venture into romance writing, integrating it with historical contexts that I found fascinating. Romance, I discovered, offered a structured yet flexible foundation that allowed me to weave intricate tales of love and passion against the backdrop of significant historical events. This approach not only made history more accessible but also added a rich, emotional depth to the narrative, making the stories resonate more deeply with readers.

In retrospect, my journey from skepticism about romance novels to embracing them as a vital part of my writing repertoire has been a lesson in keeping an open mind. It has shown me that genres are not limitations, but rather, gateways to new possibilities. Romance, far from being narrow or trivial, is a genre that offers endless opportunities for creativity, for exploring the human condition, and for making history come alive in the most engaging and meaningful ways.

As I continue to write, I am grateful for this unexpected turn in my career. Romance novels have not only expanded my horizons as a writer but have also enriched my understanding of the past and the endless ways in which love can shape and be shaped by the tides of history. It gives me an excuse to write about areas of history I want to explore more and a framework that makes that possible. Moreover, writing romance novels turned out to be a lot of fun. The process of developing characters, of imagining their encounters and the blossoming of their love, is creatively fulfilling.

Finding my inner romantic,
Samuel DenHartog

Hello, my cherished community of readers and fellow dreamers!

It’s been three months since I embarked on my audacious journey, inspired by the legendary Ryoki Inoue, to etch my name beside his in the annals of prolific writing. Today, I’m here to share the raw, unfiltered truth of my quest to author 1,440 books in twelve years.

Three months ago, I set out with a fire in my heart, fueled by Ryoki’s story – a man who, with 98% sweat, 1% talent, and that crucial 1% luck, transformed from a thoracic surgeon to a literary legend. His feat of writing 1,283 books seemed like a mountain peak I was determined to climb. My goal? Transforming myself from a lifelong computer programmer, game developer, and CEO into a literary legend in my own rite, surpassing Ryoki by penning 1,440 books and diving into every genre imaginable, from the depths of science fiction to fantasy to the intricate dance of romance and human relationships.

Reflecting on Ryoki’s monumental achievement of writing his first 999 books in just his first six years brings to light the sheer magnitude of his dedication and productivity. This milestone is a stark reminder of the incredible pace he maintained, a benchmark that, by comparison, highlights the ambition of my own journey. Despite my rigorous schedule and unwavering commitment, my projections estimate that I will reach 720 books in the same timeframe. It makes me even more amazed at what he accomplished.

The initial leg of my journey has been both exhilarating and daunting. In these first three months, I’ve completed and published my first 36 books – a pace that, while impressive, has me questioning the sustainability of this marathon. Writing between 10 to 14 hours a day, every day, 7 days a week, has been a testament to my commitment but has also taken its toll, leaving me already often feeling tired and wiped out. I used to work like this when I was in my twenties, but it has been some time since I worked this hard. I feel tired at the end of every day, yet it is hard to fall asleep as I either have the book I am working on in my mind or I am thinking about what book I will start the next day. Can I keep up this pace for another twelve years, when I will be 64?

The thrill of creation has been my driving force, pushing me to explore new universes and narratives with each book. Yet, as I pause to catch my breath, I can’t help but wonder about the road ahead. How will I continue to find the inexhaustible well of ideas needed to reach my 1,440-book goal? Doubts about my ability to come up with so many unique literary concepts creeps in, yet my resolve remains unshaken. I have plenty of ideas in my mind right now, but I have not even completed my first 100 books. This is probably a much bigger worry for me than whether or not I can keep up the pace, or at least eventually make it from a physical standpoint.

I am not contemplating surrender. Far from it. This journey is about more than breaking records; it’s about shattering the very notion of what one author can achieve. Each book is a new adventure, a unique story waiting to be told. And while the path is more challenging than I envisioned, my passion for storytelling remains undimmed.

There is nothing else I would rather be doing. I have been writing computer programs since the age of 11, with one my text adventures games became #1 on Quantum Link, a dial-up online service for the Commodore 64 (that eventually became America Online), for 3 months when I was 14. I have been coding professionally since the age of 14. After writing structured computer code almost daily for 40 years, the joy and freedom that comes with writing books is beyond compare!

To you, my readers, who are joining me or have joined me on this voyage, your support is my stronghold. Your enthusiasm, feedback, and encouragement are the winds that propel my sails forward. Despite the hurdles, I am still excited to try, to push the boundaries of creativity and endurance.

I’ve often reflected on Ryoki’s journey, drawing parallels to my own. He wrote without the lure of records in mind, driven by a pure love for storytelling. In his spirit, I remind myself that it’s not the quantity but the quality and diversity of stories that will define my legacy. I believe the quality of my books has improved substantially as I write more and more. I am a little embarrassed now by the quality of writing in some of my initial books. I feel I am learning how to create better stories with each new book I write. Some feedback, while critical, has helped me notice where I have repeated phrases too much or not paid enough attention to some details in earlier works. While I love getting 5 star ratings, I do appreciate written reviews that are critical as well, since they help me improve. Probably the worst thing is 1 star rating with no review, then I do not even know why or what to improve. As an independent author, all ratings and reviews are always appreciated.

Anyhow, here I am, three months in, standing at the foothill of my own personal Everest, looking up. The climb may be steeper than I thought, but the view from the summit – a world enriched by 1,440 stories of my making – is a vision that keeps me moving forward.

I invite you to continue this journey with me. Together, let’s embrace the challenges and celebrate the milestones. Your company on this journey is a source of inspiration and strength.

With gratitude and determination,
Samuel DenHartog 📚✨🚀

As I reflect on the first year of my journey to write 1,440 books in 12 years, I'm filled with a mixture of gratitude, determination, and awe at the road ahead. Setting out to write ten books a month for 12 years was an ambitious goal, one that demanded discipline and creativity in equal measure. Now, with 127 books completed and published in the first year, I find myself slightly ahead of schedule—a reassuring sign that this monumental task is not only possible but also deeply fulfilling. Each book represents a piece of my passion for storytelling, whether it's reimagining ancient myths, crafting fables, or bringing new ideas to life across diverse genres.

For those who do not know, Ryoki Inoue is a remarkable inspiration for ambitious writers everywhere, and his story has fueled my own goal of writing 1,440 books in 12 years. A former thoracic surgeon from São Paulo, Ryoki, in 1986, left his medical career at 40 to pursue his passion for storytelling, ultimately becoming the world's most-published author with 1,283 books to his name. His secret? A combination of 98% sweat, 1% talent, and 1% luck. Ryoki's work ethic was nothing short of extraordinary. Known for his incredible work ethic, Ryoki wrote his first 999 books in his first six years and sometimes wrote three books in a single day, proving that discipline and passion can lead to extraordinary achievements. Inspired by his journey, last year in late November of 2023, at 51, I set out to try and not only break his record but also expand the possibilities of storytelling by exploring diverse genres and themes. After 37 years of professionally crafting computer programs and video games through the precision of structured code, transitioning to the boundless freedom of creative writing has been a liberating experience beyond anything I could have imagined.

This first year has taught me the importance of balance—finding ways to nurture creativity while maintaining the steady pace required to meet my goals. It's also been a reminder of why I started this journey: to write stories that resonate, inspire, and entertain readers of all ages. As I look ahead, I know the road will be challenging, with thousands of ideas yet to be explored and countless hours of writing still to come. But with each book I complete, I'm reminded that this journey is about more than the numbers; it's about the joy of creation and the enduring power of the written word.

They say it takes 10,000 hours to become an expert at something, and as I pass the 2,500-hour mark in my journey, I can feel the progress in every page I write. Over the course of this first year, I've grown as a writer—honing my craft, finding my voice, and learning the rhythm of balancing creativity with consistent output. Many of the books I've completed, especially those in my "Mythology Anthologies" and "Fables Anthologies" series, have been as much for me as for my readers. These stories allowed me to dive into the worlds that came before, explore their depths, and reignite my imagination in ways I didn't expect. They were stepping stones that taught me the value of creative exploration while honoring the timeless tales that have inspired storytellers for generations.

Creating the "Mythology Anthologies" series was an extraordinary journey into the captivating worldviews of ancient cultures, revealing how civilizations grappled with universal questions about existence, nature, and the divine. From the majestic deities of Greece to the complex pantheons of Mesopotamia and Egypt, I've discovered that mythology is more than tales of gods and heroes—it's a rich tapestry of values, fears, and aspirations that reflect humanity's struggles and triumphs. Writing this series has deepened my appreciation for how myths transcend time, offering lessons on resilience, creativity, and the quest for meaning. The stark differences between gods across cultures are especially fascinating: Norse gods are flawed, mortal beings battling fate with grim determination, mirroring their culture's acceptance of life's impermanence, while Egyptian gods embody cosmic balance, reflecting a society that prized order and continuity. Greek gods, full of human flaws and passions, highlight a civilization that embraced emotional complexity and relationships. These cultural differences illuminate how each society's environment and worldview shaped its understanding of divinity, making mythology a timeless mirror of humanity.

Writing the "Fable Anthologies", "Grimm Imagination" and "Arabian Nights Reimagined" series has been a transformative experience, deepening my understanding of storytelling's universal power while showcasing the unique voices of fairy tales from around the world. Through these works, I've learned how different cultures approach common themes—cunning, bravery, love, and justice—each infusing its own values and worldview into the narratives. Exploring these tales has taught me not only about the shared humanity in our myths but also about the creativity that emerges from diverse traditions. The process of modernizing and reimagining these stories has been as much about learning their lessons as it has been about honing my craft, blending respect for their origins with fresh perspectives. These journeys into folklore have enriched my imagination and given me a greater appreciation for the timeless art of storytelling.

As I look back on this first year, I see not only how much I've accomplished but also how much I've grown. Each story, each book, has been a stepping stone—part of a larger journey that continues to challenge and inspire me. This process has taught me that storytelling is as much about listening as it is about creating—listening to the stories that have endured, to the lessons they offer, and to the readers who breathe life into them by engaging with my work and with me on Facebook. Writing has been both a deeply personal and a communal act, one that bridges my imagination with the hearts and minds of others.

As I enter my second year, my focus begins to evolve. While I will always value the stories I write for personal growth, I'm increasingly energized by the opportunity to create books with my readers in mind. My anthologies and fairy tales series have been the most successful in generating revenue. Still, I've noticed that my stand-alone books and romances have resonated most deeply, drawing the highest engagement on Kindle Unlimited and receiving the most ratings and reviews. Moving forward, I plan to write more original stories and expand into the genres that have connected most with my readers. This year feels like a chance to grow not just as a writer but as a storyteller who listens and responds to the audience, which makes this journey so meaningful. If the first year was about laying a foundation, the second year will be about building stories that inspire, entertain, and foster a lasting connection with my readers.

The road ahead is long, but the possibilities are boundless. I'm eager to delve deeper into original stories and explore the genres that resonate most with my readers, creating books that entertain, inspire, and stay with them long after the final page. With each book I write, I feel closer to my goal—not just the ambitious number I set for myself, but the deeper goal of crafting wonderful stories that matter. The journey continues, and I can't wait to see where it leads.

Thanks to all who are on this journey with me! One year down, eleven to go—here's to the stories yet to be told!

Cheers,
Samuel DenHartog

http://samueldenhartog.com/

Writing is a deeply personal and creative process, and one of the most debated topics among authors is the choice between being a "Plotter" or a "Pantser." These terms, introduced to me by Jenny Elliot from The Owl Network, encapsulate two distinct approaches to storytelling—both of which have their strengths and challenges.

A Plotter is someone who meticulously outlines their story before writing. This method offers structure, clarity, and a roadmap to follow, which can be incredibly helpful, especially for new writers. As someone who uses outlines for most of my books, I can attest to their effectiveness. The time spent planning pays off when the writing flows smoothly, and it’s easier to maintain consistency and direction throughout the narrative. For beginning writers, I highly recommend outlining—it simplifies the process and reduces the likelihood of writer's block.

Even in my Nighty Night Tales series, where each chapter features a different story, I always start with a detailed outline. This helps me ensure that each tale stands out within the book and that as many stories as possible remain unique across the entire series, which now includes an impressive total of 225 tales.

On the other hand, Pantsers take a more spontaneous approach, crafting their stories as they go. There is an undeniable magic in this method. With no set boundaries, the story evolves naturally, often leading to unexpected twists and richer creativity. My "Forge Your Own Path" series is entirely written this way—by necessity, as the format thrives on improvisation and flexibility. Additionally, two of my personal favorites, Magic of Coal Mountain and The Faery Ring, were also written without an outline. Both books emerged from the process of imagining as I went, not knowing myself where the story would go when I started, and I believe that freedom allowed me to delve deeper into the imagination, resulting in two of my best works.

Even for a seasoned Plotter like me, the lines sometimes blur. Outlines provide guidance, but they’re not set in stone. There have been times when I’ve started writing, only to feel the story pulling me in a different direction. When this happens, I follow the call, and I encourage other writers to do the same. Flexibility is key—even the most detailed outline can benefit from moments of inspired deviation. In my recent book, Aniya Hawke: The Watchmaker's Paradox, I spent double the time I normally do developing the outline. About six chapters in, however, I felt the story pulling me in a new direction, which I followed, embracing a more spontaneous approach. It turned out excellent—I believe it’s the best one in that series so far.

Ultimately, there’s no right or wrong choice between Plotting and Pantsing. It’s about finding what works best for you and your story. If you’re just starting out, an outline can provide valuable structure. But don’t shy away from exploring the world of Pantsing—you might just stumble upon something extraordinary. Writing, after all, is as much about discovery as it is about discipline. I’ve read many Quora forum articles on this topic, not using the terms I just recently learned (and love), and while some argue one approach is better than the other, in the end, I think each writer needs to find what works for them.

May your imagination soar and your writing flow effortlessly,
Samuel DenHartog

I have not been shy to admit that artificial intelligence was what first opened the door for me as a writer. It gave me the confidence to begin and the structure to keep going. From the very start, it’s been woven into my creative process, not just as a tool, but as a partner, helping me shape scattered ideas into stories with form and direction. But no matter how powerful it is, AI has never replaced the part that matters most. It doesn’t tell me what to care about. It doesn’t choose the stories I feel drawn to or the way I want to tell them. That still comes from inside me, from how I see the world and what I want to share.

AI can help tell a story, but it doesn’t decide which story to tell. It offers prompts, outlines, and sometimes snippets of dialogue, but I’m the one who chooses what feels true. The heart of the story is always personal. Whether I’m writing something light and fun or serious and thoughtful, the meaning has to come from me. No software can provide the feeling that tells me when a sentence lands just right or when a moment has the emotional weight it needs. That instinct belongs to me.

Some people worry that using AI takes away from the art of writing. I don’t see it that way. For me, it’s like using any other tool, a good pen, a helpful thesaurus, or a strong word processor. AI doesn’t take over. It supports. It helps me move quickly when I’m on a roll and slow down when something needs more care. It offers clarity without demanding control. I don’t feel like less of a writer because I use AI. If anything, I feel more capable of writing the kinds of stories I’ve always wanted to tell.

Writing has never been about the tools we use. It’s about having something to say. AI can help me shape a thought or clean up phrasing, even point out a new angle, but it can’t tell me what matters. That’s my job. I’m the one who decides what sounds honest, what tone feels right, and how the rhythm of a piece should flow. That’s what gives the story its voice, and that voice has to be mine.

I wouldn’t want to write without AI. It’s become part of how I think and how I get the words to move. But even as it helps, I know it’s not the one telling the story. I still have to feel it. I still have to shape it. The tools I use are powerful, but they don’t dream, they don’t care, and they don’t understand meaning. That part, the human part, is still mine.

Writing, for me, is something deeply human, made stronger with the right kind of help. I don’t separate myself from the tools I use. I embrace them. They make the process smoother, faster, and sometimes even more fun, but they don’t write the book. The spark still starts in my own heart. The choices still come from my own hand. What to keep, what to fix, what to toss out entirely, that’s not a decision an algorithm makes. That belongs to me.

I can still create stories that fall flat. AI doesn’t change that. If a piece lacks structure or feels off, it’s because of my decisions, not the tool. One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that stringing together a series of events isn’t enough to make a story work. Even if each scene is well written, if they don’t build toward something meaningful, the whole thing can feel disjointed or aimless. A good story needs momentum, shape, and intention.

That’s something I had to figure out through trial and error. AI might help me generate scenes faster, but it doesn’t tell me how they should connect. That’s my responsibility. I have to step back, look at the whole, and ask whether the story grows, whether it carries the reader forward with purpose. That kind of awareness takes time to develop. It takes planning, revision, and a willingness to throw things out when they’re not working. Learning to use AI in a way that supports that process rather than gets in the way has been a huge part of my journey.

When I write mysteries, for example, I lean on AI for all kinds of tasks. It helps polish sentences, fine-tune pacing, and suggest structure. But the most important parts still need human eyes. AI isn’t great at managing the small, vital details that make a mystery satisfying. Clues have to appear at just the right time. Red herrings need to mislead without annoying. Character choices must stay believable, and timelines can’t fall apart. That’s not just data. It’s emotional timing. It’s understanding what a reader is hoping for in that moment and how to surprise them without breaking the story. That’s where I come in, adjusting and refining, making sure everything ties together in a way that feels right.

Children’s books are a different kind of challenge, and AI has opened up new possibilities. The AI art tools I use have completely changed how I handle illustrations. What used to take months can now be done in a few days. But it’s not automatic. Every image begins with a prompt, which must be carefully crafted. I guide the look and feel, check for consistency, and decide what belongs in each scene based on the text. AI generates the art, but I’m the one sorting through it and choosing what fits. It’s still work, and sometimes frustrating work, but the time saved is unbelievable.

Back when we were producing new games at EnsenaSoft, where I continue as CEO, I managed a full-time art team. At one point, we had seven in-house artists. I know what it means to build a visual pipeline, to review drafts, give feedback, and make sure everything stays consistent across a project. That experience helps me see just how much AI has changed the process. It absolutely can replace an artist, at least in the kinds of projects I work on now. That is not a claim, it is my lived reality. Where I once needed a full team, I can now handle the visual work myself. It is not about clicking a button and calling it done. I still have to guide the vision, write thoughtful prompts, and sort through the results to find what works. But I am no longer waiting on sketches or managing revisions. I am directing the creative process from start to finish, faster and more independently than ever before.

The picture books I create often need at least 25 full-color illustrations. For a human artist, especially one working in a detailed or stylized way, that could take four to six months. With AI, I can generate hundreds of image options in just a day or two. I sometimes go through at least five or six versions before finding one that feels right for a single page. But when I do, I get something beautiful that brings the story to life. It’s not about clicking a button and moving on. It’s about curating, refining, and guiding a process that still takes vision and care.

What surprises me most is how collaborative it feels, even when I’m the only person in the room. The images may be generated by a tool, but they’re still shaped by my decisions. I choose the colors, the characters’ expressions, the settings, and the clothing. I write and rewrite the prompts until they give me something that matches what I see in my head. I compare variations, review results with care, and make sure the visual style holds together across the whole book. In a very real sense, I’m still working with an artist. The difference is that I don’t have to wait. I can move at the pace of my own imagination.

In both mystery writing and picture book creation, AI hasn’t replaced creativity. It has changed how I interact with it. The time I save on the execution side gives me room to explore. I can try new ideas, make bigger changes, and take more risks. I can shift directions without feeling like I’ve lost weeks of effort. However, this does not mean the ideas come from outside. They still begin with me. AI just helps me reach them faster and bring them into form.

I’ve managed big teams before. At one point, I was responsible for fifty people. There were plenty of rewards in that, but I don’t have the interest or the energy for that kind of structure anymore. These days, I work with a very different kind of team, just AI and me. AI never takes a vacation. It doesn’t get tired. It doesn’t need meetings or approval cycles. It’s not perfect, but it helps me stay in a creative flow without the weight of constant oversight. I’m still the one guiding the vision. I still make the decisions. I just get to do it with a kind of quiet focus that suits the life I want now.

Writing stories and making books has become the work I want to do every day. There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing. AI helped make it possible. It’s allowed me to go farther than I could have on my own, not just because it writes for me, but because it gives me the freedom to focus on what really matters. The story still needs meaning. The message still needs thought. And the voice that carries it all has to be my own.