A Quarter of a Million Decisions

I came across the following passage in A Tale of Love and Darkness by Amos Oz, and although it is about the writing of fiction I think it's generalizable to writing, period, including the writing of history:

If you write an eighty-thousand-word novel, you have to make about a quarter of a million decisions, not just decisions about the outline of the plot, who will live or die, who will fall in love or be unfaithful, who will make a fortune or make a fool of himself, the names and faces of the character, their habits and occupations, the chapter divisions, the title of the book (these are the simplest, broadest decisions); not just what to narrate and what to gloss over, what comes first and what comes last, what to spell out and what to allude to indirectly (these are also fairly broad decisions); but you also have to make thousands of finer decisions, such as whether to write, in the third sentence from the end of that paragraph, “blue” or “bluish.” Or should it be “pale blue”? Or “sky blue”? Or “royal blue”? Or should it really be “blue-gray”? And should this “grayish blue” be at the beginning of the sentence, or should it only shine out at the end? Or in the middle? Or should it simply be caught up in the flow of a complex sentence, full of subordinate clauses? Or would it be best just to write the three words “the evening light,” without trying to color it in, either “gray-blue” or “dusty blue” or whatever?