For a true writer, each book should be a new beginning where he tries again for something that is beyond attainment. He should always try for something that has never been done or that others have tried and failed. Then sometimes, with great luck, he will succeed.

Reach for what you can't quite catch

There's something both exhausting and liberating in Hemingway's idea that every project should feel like starting from zero. It means you can't coast on what worked last time—you can't just repeat the formula that got you applause before. This applies far beyond writing. Anyone who's ever felt the pressure to recreate their own success knows how suffocating it gets. The song that won a Grammy, the business model that scaled once, the approach that impressed your boss—suddenly they feel like chains instead of blueprints.

What makes this insight worth sitting with is the bit about aiming for something "beyond attainment." That's not pessimism dressed up as motivation. It's actually permission to fail. Because if your target is genuinely unreachable, then of course you won't nail it on the first try. Maybe not on the tenth. The point isn't to hit some impossible mark—it's to reach toward it hard enough that you end up somewhere genuinely new anyway. That reframing changes everything. You stop needing to succeed perfectly and start needing to matter.

Most of us waste energy trying to execute known quantities better. Hemingway's angle is different: keep hunting for the untried territory. The luck part? That mostly just means you'll recognize it when you stumble into it.