Too many decisions. This is how messy starting a story can be. Matter of fact, it's kind of like:
When my daughter was a young chickadee, she came in to the kitchen. I had a bowl of raw ground beef littered with pieces of shredded bread and chopped onion, and I was cracking an egg over it all. I threw in some Worchestershire sauce and a slug of catsup. Then I dug my hands in, grimaced at how cold (and smelly) it was, and starting mixing it all with my hands.
She peeped over the edge of the bowl and asked, "What's that?"
"Meatloaf," I answered.
"MEATLOAF??? EUUUUUWWWW! That's how you make meatloaf?" She had her I'm gonna urp face on, and she fled the kitchen quickly.
Since that wonderful learning experience, she's never eaten meatloaf.
Starting a story is like making meatloaf. It's really messy at the beginning, doesn't smell so great, and there's no way on this green earth that its beginnings in any way resemble the final product.
But it gets there.
Right now I'm working out all the details of who and where and what in my story. I like to know my story's path before I get started, mainly because I am interrupted so often. I'm still deciding what goes into that bowl. And at some point I'll have to dip my hands into that mixture and begin the process of making a
Let's hope it's yummier than a meatloaf! (I'm vegetarianish.)