A Surfeit of Choices

Writing is so hard and yet it really shouldn’t be. The problem comes down to too many choices, and the feeling that each choice eliminates rather than propagates others. It’s as if we feel we have a limited number of words, sentences and paragraphs at our disposal (and we do, but only in the sense that our life expectancies are limited). When I used to paint (seldom now), I’d say to myself, “Go ahead and make this choice and let it stand”—on the assumption that, if I made infinite paintings, sooner or later I would be bound to make that choice anyway, so why not make it now and get it over with? With writing I never feel that sort of reckless self-confidence, and each choice feels like the one that may doom me! But as someone—I forget who—said to me not long ago, it’s not so much the choices that one makes that determine his or her quality as an artist, it’s the willingness to MAKE choices and live with them. After all, “unlimited choices” is a contradiction in terms.