STOP. Before you close this tab thinking, «I already know all this» – wait. Because I'm about to tell you something important. Something you may have heard ten times before, but never really heard. Ready? Let's go.
The «Everything's Been Done Before» Syndrome: Welcome to the Club!
You sit down to create. You take a blank page, open a new document, stretch a canvas – and then it hits you. That heavy, sticky feeling: «God, this is so banal. It's been done. Someone's done it better. Why even bother?» And that's it. Your inspiration pops like a balloon on a needle.
Sound familiar? YES, THAT'S YOU. I see right through you.
Well, guess what: this state has a name. Psychologists call it creative paralysis – the moment when the fear of being banal blocks any action more effectively than an actual lack of ideas. And this isn't a character flaw. It's not a sign that you're «not a creative person.» It's just a trap that everyone falls into – from beginners to those who've filled dozens of exhibitions, written mountains of books, or shot a ton of videos.
But let's figure it out: where does this feeling of banality even come from? Because understanding your enemy is half the battle.
Where This Monster Comes From
Content Overload
We live in an era where we see more visual, textual, and audio material in a single day than someone five hundred years ago saw in their entire life. Feeds, streaming, podcasts, readers, reels – it's a non-stop flow of other people's creativity. And the more you consume, the stronger the feeling: «Everything's already been done. And done well.»
You see a brilliantly written story and think, «Why should I write mine?» You look at someone's illustration and feel worthless. You hear a track that gives you goosebumps and put your guitar back in its case.
This is not a normal reaction to inspiration. It's a system overload. Your brain is literally drowning in others' examples and starts comparing your rough draft to their final product. And that, by the way, is the most unfair comparison in the world.
Perfectionism Disguised as High Standards
«I just want to do a good job» – how many times have you told yourself that? Sounds noble, right? But nine times out of ten, it's just perfectionism in a fancy coat. The desire to create a masterpiece right away kills the ability to create anything at all.
Perfectionism is fear. The fear of releasing something imperfect into the world and getting silence or, worse, criticism in return. And this fear puts on a mask of «high standards» to look respectable. But the result is the same: you create nothing.
Algorithms That Kill Originality
Okay, I'm gonna grumble a bit here. Modern platforms – whatever has a feed and recommendations – are designed to promote what has already worked. What's similar to something successful. What fits a proven format. And gradually, you start making not what you want, but what the algorithm wants.
And here's the paradox: the more you follow trends, the more banal your work becomes. Because trends, by definition, are what everyone is doing. And originality is a deviation from the norm. So if everything seems banal, ask yourself: is it because you're looking at creativity through the lens of «what will get likes?»
But Wait. Is «Banal» Even a Real Thing?
Let's be honest. Is there really anything that's one hundred percent original? Spoiler alert (and I love spoilers): no.
This isn't a reason to despair – it's a reason to exhale. Every story ever told by humanity is built on archetypes that are thousands of years old. «Hamlet» is a story of revenge and indecision that was told long before Shakespeare. «Star Wars» is the classic hero's journey, described by mythologist Joseph Campbell based on hundreds of myths. Every hit single uses one of a few dozen proven harmonic progressions.
Originality is not creating something from nothing. It's a unique combination of existing elements. It's your voice, your point of view, your life filtered through these elements. And that is unrepeatable. Because you are one of a kind. There has never been and never will be another person with the exact same story, the exact same neural connections, the exact same mix of pain and joy.
When you say, «this is banal», you're actually saying, «this is similar to something that already exists.» But similarity isn't banality. Banality is the absence of a point of view. And no one can take your point of view away from you.
Practice: What Actually Helps
1. Lower the Stakes to Zero
The most powerful tool against creative paralysis is to give yourself permission to do it badly. Sound counterintuitive? Yes. Does it work? ABSOLUTELY.
Tell yourself straight up: «This is going to be terrible, and that's okay.» Write the most banal first paragraph you can. Draw the messiest sketch. Record the most cliché melody. Because when you remove the requirement for it to be a masterpiece, your brain relaxes. And that's when – in that very moment – something real emerges.
The famous «shitty first draft» principle, which writer Anne Lamott described in her book on writing, works exactly like this: the first draft is supposed to be terrible because its function isn't to shine, but to exist. To exist so that it can be improved later.
2. Feed Yourself the Right Content
If you feel like everything is banal, look at what you're consuming. If it's only new releases, trends, hits, and «top 10 right now», your brain is stewing in a homogeneous mass. Try something different:
- Read something that came out fifty years ago. Or a hundred.
- Watch films from other cultures – not Hollywood mainstream, but something shot with a different rhythm and a different logic.
- Listen to music in genres that are «not your thing.» Just as an experiment.
- Go to a museum. Not for inspiration – just look.
- Read science articles on topics far from your field.
When you feed yourself diverse and non-trivial material, your combinations become richer. Because creativity is always recombination. And the more diverse the raw materials, the more interesting the result.
3. Ask Yourself «What If?»
This is one of the simplest and most effective tools used by screenwriters, authors, and game designers. You take a banal idea and start twisting it with the «what if?» question.
A story about a girl who found love? Banal. But what if she found it and then deliberately destroyed it? What if her love wasn't for a person? What if it all happens five minutes before the end of the world, and that changes everything?
You take a boring starting point and start shifting the parameters. You change the genre, the time period, the point of view, the rules of the world, the hero's motivation. And at some point – click – you stumble upon something that makes you feel that little spark of excitement. That's it.
4. Steal Like an Artist (But Do It Right)
There's a book by Austin Kleon called «Steal Like an Artist.» Its main idea is that all great creators have stolen. Not by literally copying, but by taking what they admired and filtering it through themselves until it was unrecognizable.
Take three authors, artists, or musicians you adore. Not one – three. Because mixing three voices already creates something new. What is it about them that gets you? The rhythm? The structure? The color palette? The way they build dialogue? Isolate that – and try to reproduce it in your own work. Not copy it, but reproduce the principle. The result will be yours because it has passed through you.
5. Change Your Tool or Environment
Sometimes the feeling of banality is just fatigue from your usual way of working. You always write on a computer – try writing by hand. You always draw digitally – grab a brush and paint. You always work in silence – put on something you don't normally listen to.
An unfamiliar tool switches off your autopilot. When you're uncomfortable, when it's awkward, when the tech doesn't obey you – your brain stops using templates and starts to actually think. It works like rebooting an operating system: you remove the familiar interface and see what's underneath.
6. Work Consistently, Not Just When Inspired
OK, I know a lot of you are cringing right now. «By a schedule? Creativity can't be forced!» Oh, it can. It absolutely can.
Waiting for inspiration to fall from the sky is a strategy guaranteed to lead to creative stagnation. Because inspiration doesn't just show up. It shows up during the work. You sit down to do it – and it appears. You wait – and it never comes.
The writer Stephen King – and yes, I'm mentioning him because he wrote a whole book about this, and it's a concrete fact – works for several hours every single day, regardless of how he feels. Not because he's a machine. But because he knows: consistency is what turns «sometimes I have ideas» into «I am actually creating something.»
Set aside some time for yourself. Fifteen minutes. Half an hour. An hour. Every day. With no expectation of results, no demand for quality. Just do the work. And see what happens in a month.
And Now – the Main Thing No One Says Out Loud
Everything I've said so far is about practice and tools. But there's something deeper, and I have to say it directly.
The feeling that «everything is banal» is very often not an assessment of the idea. It's an assessment of yourself.
«This is banal» often really means «I'm not good enough to make this interesting.» It's fear. It's insecurity. It's the voice that says, «You are not the kind of person who is allowed to create.» And you know what? That voice is lying. It lies to everyone. It lied to Kafka, who asked for his manuscripts to be burned. It lied to Van Gogh, who sold only one painting in his lifetime. It's lying to you right now.
Creativity is not a privilege for the specially gifted. It's a right for every human being. And the only thing that separates a «creative person» from a «non-creative person» is that the first one keeps going despite that voice, and the second one believes it.
You don't need permission. You don't need to wait for the moment when you're «ready.» You don't have to be original the first time. You don't have to be liked by everyone. You don't have to do what others are already doing.
The only thing required of you is to start. And then to keep going. Even if it seems banal. Especially if it seems banal. Because a banal beginning is still a beginning. And a blank document never becomes a masterpiece.
A Short Manifesto for Those Who Are Stuck
- Banality isn't a verdict. It's a first draft.
- Originality isn't the absence of influences. It's their unique blend inside you.
- Perfectionism isn't a standard. It's fear in a fancy coat.
- Inspiration isn't the cause. It's the effect of doing the work.
- Creative paralysis isn't the end. It's a signal that you've been watching for too long and doing too little.
- You don't have to be the best. You have to be yourself. And that's already rare enough.
So Now What?
Close this article and do one thing. One. Right now. Write the first sentence, sketch the first shape, record the first eight bars, take a picture of what's in front of you. Don't think about quality. Don't think about originality. Just take the first step.
Because all great works began with a banal first step. And that step is the most important one of all.
Go on. What are you waiting for? 🔥
