Confessing that I have a mind producing ideas at the rate most of us produce carbon dioxide might sound like humblebrag. But, no, for those like me who truly experience such a plethora of notions, it’s more akin to a peculiar curse. As an Ancient Greek philosopher might have put it, I’m blessed with excessive creativity but cursed with insufficient hours in a day.

My whole problem is that most things I write could be considered treatments for full-length books. I discovered this a few years ago when someone point blank told me that my prologue to a novel I was writing deserved its own novel treatment. I did actually write that novel, and it’s yet one of a few dozen aborted manuscripts that still lie dormant and neglected in my writing archives. 

Even recently, I had this concept for an essay called “Mind Unseen.” When I started to outline it, I found myself needing twelve entire chapter-length sections to flesh out all of the concepts I wanted to cover. I’m sure this will eventually be written and published in some form. Still, it’s a perfect example of how often my essays read to many people, like the preamble to a long, boring book, and not the introspective, actionable advice-driven pieces they’re meant to be.

Heck, half the time I don’t even know what I’m really writing about. I’ve always been allergic to outlines and tend to let most of my writing just flow out of me like free-written rushing rapids. Even Emily, who’s usually able to at least follow my drift, gets overwhelmed by all of these ideas I’m constantly bouncing off of her.

The only reason I can tie any of it together at all is because I have lived with my brain for 36 years. In that time, I’ve gained the self-awareness to have at least an inkling of my end goal and the self-actualization to do at least something productive with the huge blocks of text that inhabit my archives. But, there are literally hundreds of essay drafts that remain unused, and that number will only grow with time.

Emily often tells me that she wishes that she had the hundreds of still nascent essays at her disposal. In fact, I have offered her a few to “steal” from me and that’s been successful. But, for the most part, no one should ever desire to compete with the hundreds of drafts that still lie in wait for my cold, calculating development. Even when Emily peruses through my “death pile,” she can’t even begin to figure out what’s what. Imagine how I feel, and I was the one who wrote those drafts!  That’s not even to mention the dozens of book treatments for Emilyes I haven’t yet written.

There’s something almost comically tragic about this whole ordeal. I’ll send Emily a working draft of an essay I’m working on. After a few minutes of trying to decode the mystery of my latest sprawling musings, Emily squints, reads a few lines over and over again, squints again, then finally admits, “Nope. I’ve got nothing.”

With a mind overflowing, there seem to be more perils than perks to having too many ideas. Fortunately, I know I’m far from alone with this problem — human experiences are, pretty much, never solitary. Many of us have ideas – some fleeting and some persistent – that never see the light of day. But, when you’re dealing with a brain like mine that’s essentially a popcorn machine of ideas, it’s like trying to catch said popcorn with only a thimble at your disposal.

If you find yourself with too many ideas, here are some thoughts that I have to help corral the onslaught. 

Embrace the Mess: First off, I’ve come to accept that I’m an idea factory. While most of them are somewhat uselessly abstract and hardly practical, I can’t knock my gift. I know how many people would pay me their life savings and their first-born child to have just a smidgen of that creative juice. It wouldn’t be worth that price, though, because then they’d never sleep at night and probably go loony. It’s a wonder I don’t go nuts, and that’s only because I’ve just come to accept how I am.

Holding an Idea Olympics: Not all ideas are created equal. Even though I know this, it’s very difficult to know which ones deserve my attention over others. I read somewhere that those overcome with inspiration should host an ‘Idea Olympics’. Essentially, let your ideas compete against one another. Which ones will make for good essays with actionable advice? Which ones should be turned into fuel for short stories or even novels? Which ones can simply be… social media updates? I don’t participate in social media anymore, so those just get left behind. However, perhaps some of them could become memes in the future.

Speak to Your Greatest Supporters: Even if Emily doesn’t always understand where I’m going with a piece, having her as a sounding board is invaluable. Sometimes just the act of verbalizing an idea helps me determine its worth. I’ve found that talking through things aloud is, ironically, easier than working it out on paper. I think this is true of most people. 

Yes, Using AI Tools is Fine to Work Through Ideas: While I was extremely resistant at first to AI writing tools, once I began to understand and use them as collaborative creative assistants, Bing Chat and ChatGPT became invaluable tools to take my ideas to their next logical step. In fact, they’ve been particularly helpful for weeding out weak or half-baked ideas. If a large language model programmed with the sum of human knowledge up to now, one of which has free reign of a search engine, can’t come up with something worthy to say about a given bunch of text, then it’s simply not worth working on at all. Or, it needs to be vastly restated.

Archive the Ideas You Like, But Haven’t Yet Embellished: About a decade ago, I began to organize my writing archives, at first by year, so that I could let certain things sit until I had sufficient life experience or skill level to make them actionable. I think of it as my personal treasure trove. Nowadays, I’ve started categorizing ideas in terms of Articles, reflective musings (which I termed Cloud Pieces), and so on. When I’m feeling uninspired, I dig in. Often I find that two old ideas can combine to form something completely new.

Limit the Scope When Expressing a Particular Idea: When an idea seems to be thwarting your ability to express it, challenge yourself by limiting the scope of what you can do with it. Can you tell a story in 500 words with that idea? How about 100? Not every idea needs to be War and Peace, and Lord knows that I have some ideas that could be embellished to that length. Some ideas might just best conveyed as a hilarious anecdote or a heartwarming short story.

Accept That Not Everything Will be Used: Artists hate having to cut their babies, but that’s okay. As Marie Kondo would say, if it doesn’t spark joy — or make sense — thank it for its service and move on. Even discarded ideas often allow us to make discoveries that lead us to better ones.

So, to those of you out there bursting with untold stories and unwritten epics, don’t fret. Just accept that you won’t pen every tale you imagine or explore every idea you have. The sheer act of creating, of thinking, is a marvelous journey in itself. To the rest of the world, you’re in for an endlessly entertaining ride on a rollercoaster brimming with ideas coming at you like raging rapids.

~ Amelia Desertsong