We are addicted to the “New.” New gadgets, new strategies, new resolutions. Our culture treats anything older than a week like an expired carton of milk.
But as an editor, some of the most viral, impactful “breaking” stories I’ve ever published were actually “evergreen” ideas we pulled from the files, dusted off, and looked at through a fresh lens.
1. The Myth of the “Original” Idea
Mark Twain once said, “There is no such thing as a new idea. We simply take a lot of old ideas and put them into a sort of mental kaleidoscope.” In the media business, we don’t reinvent the wheel; we just change the tires. If you are struggling to innovate in your career or your personal projects, stop looking at what everyone else is doing now. Look at what worked twenty years ago and ask: “How does this apply to today’s mess?”
2. The Power of the “Personal Audit”
We spend so much time “inputting” information—podcasts, newsletters, books—that we never “audit” our own output. Every six months, I go back and read my own journals or old project notes from three years ago. It’s usually cringeworthy, but hidden in that cringe are “lost seeds”—ideas I had that were ahead of their time or interests I abandoned because I got “too busy.”
The Editorial Advice: Your past self was often smarter than you give them credit for. Go back and interview your younger self.
3. Curation is the New Creation
We are drowning in information but starving for wisdom. In the old days, a journalist’s job was to find the news. Today, an editor’s job is to filter the news. You don’t need to create more content; you need to curate better meaning.
The Action: Take three unrelated things you learned this month and find the “invisible thread” that connects them. That connection is your unique perspective.
4. Build a “Commonplace Book”
The greatest thinkers in history—from Marcus Aurelius to Virginia Woolf—kept notebooks where they copied out quotes, observations, and snippets of conversation. They didn’t trust their brains to remember everything. In a digital world, having a physical or digital “scrapbook” of things that moved you is like having a private library of sparks. When your “creative engine” stalls, you don’t need a mechanic; you just need to go for a walk through your own library.
