So Many Choices…
In ancient Rome, there was a poem
About a dog who found two bones.
-Freedom Of Choice, Devo
Okay, it’s unclear whether this story actually came from ancient Rome. Or whether a dog was involved. It first appeared in modern times in France and featured a donkey known as Buridan’s Ass.
Let me tell you the tale.
It starts with a donkey who is both hungry and thirsty. Like most donkeys, he is stubborn, a creature of habit, and always drinks or eats depending on which bucket is closer. This system works well for awhile.
Then one day, both buckets are placed the same distance away.
The poor creature isn’t sure what to do. He looks to his right and thinks, “Hay.” Then he looks to his left, at the other bucket, and thinks, “Water.”
“Hay”
“Water”
“Hay”
“Water”
The internal debate goes on for minutes, then hours, then days. Eventually, the donkey collapses and dies.
I have a case of Buridan donkey-itis. Self-publishing has expanded so much in recent years. There are more options than ever before. That’s great but I feel like our poor donkey friend. I find myself paralyzed by choice, by what seem like equally good options. I want to move forward but I don’t want to make the wrong decision. I don’t want to make a mistake and feel incompetent. I inherited some of this fear from my father, who worked on the Space Shuttle. In his line of work, a poorly made decision could result in death and destruction. Most kids had nightmares about ghosts and zombies. My dreams featured O-ring seals that blew up spacecraft mid-flight…
So what’s a writer to do? First, I forced myself to recognize that not making a choice was making a choice, one that would result in failure 100% of the time. If I didn’t make a choice, I was as dead as Buridan’s donkey. Or to quote a more modern meme.
“Be decisive. The road of life is paved with flat squirrels who couldn’t make a decision.”
Second, I realized that making a wrong decision wasn’t a matter of life and death. If my first book didn’t do well, I would learn from my mistakes and move on. I could use my failures to pivot and grow as both an artist and a businessperson.
So what did I wind up deciding?
That’s a (donkey) tale for next time…
