I’ve been watching a TV show recently, Outer Range.

It started out so well. Rancher in Wyoming, a “strong but silent” cowboy-type played by Josh Brolin. Loyal wife. Two photogenic kids. Cute grandkid. A couple “hot, but realistically-so” types (one a vaguely-disturbing hippie chick just passing through, the other one the younger son’s love interest). Everyone doing a great acting job.

Characters, check. Actors, check.

And then layer on a great story: Mysterious, perfectly-symmetrical hole shows up on the ranch, accompanied by strange sounds and the disappearance of some of the cattle. And in the back pocket, a secondary story you can tap into for those slow episodes: A multi-generation rivalry with the next-door neighbors.

Story, check.

All systems go. Settle in for some binge-watching.

But then they introduce a second main story: Older son kills one of the rival family’s sons, and coverup ensues.

Either story would be great. Mysterious hole in ground. Murder and coverup. Both have been used for thousands of years, and they work every single time.

But the show can’t decide which story to do, so it tries to do both.

And as a result, the whole show gets demoted to the category of “they had an excellent chance, but flubbed it, so not going to waste my time on that one.”

The lesson for your presentations is to focus on one, and only one, great idea. Two great ideas together are not better than one. They are actually worse.

You can do your two great ideas separately, absolutely. But do not fall into the trap of thinking that two great ideas together are better than one.