My Dive into *
So, someone mentioned “*” the other day, and you know how it is, once a quirky name like that gets in your head, it just sticks. “ATP” – sounds like those brainy automated theorem provers, the kind of stuff that makes you feel you need a PhD just to read the manual – and “queens,” well, that’s got the N-Queens puzzle written all over it. I figured, why not? Had a weekend that I convinced myself was “free,” and thought I’d poke around, see what this was all about. Probably just another way to fry my brain over a chessboard puzzle, but hey, that’s half the fun, isn’t it?

First thing I did was try to figure out if “*” was some off-the-shelf tool or a standard problem I’d somehow missed. Didn’t find much in the way of a formal definition just sitting there. So, I decided it was probably more of a challenge: try to solve the N-Queens problem, but think about it like one of those “ATP” systems might, or at least try to apply that kind of logical thinking to it. Less about fancy software, more about the approach.
Getting Started – The Usual Fumbling
Alright, so how do you even start? My first instinct was to grab a pen and paper. Drew a grid. Plotted some queens. The basic rules are easy, right? No two queens threatening each other – so, different rows, different columns, and no shared diagonals. Sounds simple. Famous last words when you start coding.
I decided to use Python for this. It’s just quicker for me to bash out ideas without fighting the language too much. My first shot at it was, predictably, the straightforward backtracking method. You know the drill:
- Try to place a queen in a spot.
- Check if it’s safe.
- If it’s not safe, or if you can’t place any more queens, backtrack and try a different spot for the previous queen.
- If it is safe, move on to the next queen.
Pretty standard algorithm, nothing too “ATP” about it yet, felt more like a CS101 assignment, to be honest. The real fun, and by “fun” I mean “where I wasted a good hour,” was getting the diagonal check right. That `abs(row1 – row2) == abs(col1 – col2)` thing. Looks innocent, but I swear, I had queens buddying up on diagonals like they were long-lost pals for a while there. Operator precedence, off-by-one, the usual suspects.

Hitting a Bit of a Wall (and the “ATP” nagging)
After a bit of wrestling, the basic backtracking solver was up and running. It spat out solutions for N=4, N=8, all good. But that “atp” part of “*” kept bugging me. My recursive function was just… well, a recursive function. It didn’t feel very “theorem-prover-ish” or “logic-first.” It was just doing stuff. I wanted to see if I could make the logic more explicit, more like defining rules and letting the solution emerge from those rules.
I started thinking about how things like constraint solvers work. They don’t just blindly try things; you give them a set of variables and a bunch of constraints, and they try to find an assignment that satisfies everything. That seemed way closer to the spirit of “ATP.” I wasn’t about to write a full SAT solver for this, mind you. My weekend wasn’t that free. But I thought, “Okay, how can I make my existing code reflect this idea more clearly?”
Shifting Gears – Thinking in Constraints

So, I went back to the drawing board, not to change the whole algorithm, but to change how I was thinking about it and structuring the core parts. I focused heavily on my `is_safe(row, col, current_placements)` function. This became the heart of it. The idea was to make this function a very clear, almost declarative statement of the rules.
- A spot is NOT safe if there’s another queen in the same column.
- A spot is NOT safe if there’s another queen on the left-up diagonal.
- A spot is NOT safe if there’s another queen on the left-down diagonal.
(Only checking leftwards because I was placing queens column by column).
My recursive solver still did its thing, but each step was now very clearly about satisfying these explicit logical conditions. I also tried to make my board representation a bit more “functional” – passing new states around instead of modifying one big global thing. Made it easier to reason about, even if it wasn’t the absolute fastest way to do it. Speed wasn’t the point here; clarity of logic was what I was chasing for this “*” idea.
The “Aha!” (or maybe just “Phew!”) Moment

After refactoring and really focusing on those constraint checks, I ran it again. N=4, N=8. Still worked. But this time, I felt like I could actually point to the code and say, “See? This is why it works. These are the rules, and the solution honors them.” It wasn’t a formal proof, obviously. But the process of making the logic super explicit was the real win for me. It felt like I’d at least paid homage to the “ATP” part of “*.”
It’s funny, I didn’t end up using any fancy libraries or anything. Just good old Python and a bit of a mental shift. The code still looked like a backtracking solver, but the way I got there and the emphasis on the logical rules felt different.
What I Took Away From This Little Adventure
This whole “*” thing ended up being a pretty neat exercise. It wasn’t about mastering some new advanced tool. For me, it was a reminder that sometimes just thinking about a familiar problem through a slightly different lens – in this case, the “automated theorem proving” or “constraint logic” lens – can make you approach it in a more rigorous and understandable way. It’s easy to just hack something together until it works. It’s a bit harder, but often more satisfying, to build it so you understand why it works on a more fundamental, logical level. Definitely made me appreciate those clear, crisp constraint definitions. A good way to spend a weekend, even if those diagonals gave me a run for my money at the start!