The Paradox of Creative Abundance

I have a folder on my computer called "Novel Ideas."

There are fourteen documents in it. Fourteen different stories I want to write. Some have outlines. Some have opening chapters. One has forty pages of world-building notes.

You know how many novels I've finished? Zero.

It took me an embarrassingly long time to see the connection.

The Paradox Nobody Warns You About

Here's what I kept telling myself: more ideas means more options. More options means more chances to succeed. Having fourteen novels in progress is better than having one, right?

Wrong.

More projects don't create more output. They create less.

This felt counterintuitive until I started seeing the same pattern everywhere.

Where This Pattern Shows Up

In writing: Too many novel ideas competing for attention. Every day you have to choose which one to work on. That choosing takes energy. So does the guilt about the ones you're not choosing. Before you know it, you've spent your creative hour deciding instead of writing.

In business: Too many side projects. The app idea. The newsletter. The course. The consulting offer. Each one gets a little attention. None gets enough to actually launch. You're busy all the time and finishing nothing.

In daily life: Too many hobbies. Guitar, woodworking, photography, running. You dabble in all of them. You go deep in none. Years pass and you're still a beginner at everything.

The pattern is the same. Abundance creates paralysis. Options create overhead. The more you could do, the less you actually do.

Why Constraints Increase Output

This is the part that sounds backwards: limiting what you work on increases how much you produce.

Why? Because constraints eliminate the choosing.

When you only have one novel, you don't spend energy deciding which novel to write. You just write. When you only have one business, you don't scatter your attention. You focus.

The decision tax is real. Every time you have to pick between projects, you pay a little bit of your creative energy. Do that enough times and you've got nothing left for the actual work.

Constraints aren't limitations. They're liberation.

Where This Breaks Down

I want to be honest: I'm not sure this is always true.

Some people thrive on variety. They need multiple projects to stay energized. When they get bored with one, they rotate to another, and the cross-pollination makes everything better.

Maybe the real pattern isn't "one project good, many projects bad." Maybe it's "know your number."

For me, that number seems to be two. One main thing, one side thing. More than that and everything stalls. Your number might be different.

But I'm pretty sure nobody's number is fourteen.

The Abundance Trap for Creators

Here's what I'm learning: having lots of ideas isn't the same as being productive. It can actually be a way of avoiding the hard work of finishing.

Starting is fun. The blank page, full of possibility. The new project, before it gets difficult.

Finishing is hard. The middle slog. The parts that don't work. The commitment to see one thing through even when you're bored or stuck.

Every time I start a new novel idea, I get that new-project buzz. But I'm also giving myself an escape route. An excuse to abandon ship when things get tough.

More projects can be a form of hiding.

What I'm Trying Now

I moved thirteen of those fourteen documents to a folder called "Someday." I kept one.

It's not the best idea. It's probably not even the most interesting one. But it's the one I'm going to finish.

The constraint feels uncomfortable. I miss the variety. I miss the freedom to jump between ideas.

But I'm finally making progress. Real progress. The kind that ends with a finished thing.

Try This Today

Count your active projects. Not the ideas in your head — the things you're actually spending time on.

Now ask: what would happen if you cut that number in half?

Pick the ones that matter most. Put the rest somewhere you can't see them. Just for a month. See what happens to your output.

What would you finish if you stopped starting?