How to Eat an Elephant

On knowing when to take advice and how to make it work for you.

Photo by Nam Anh on Unsplash

You’ve probably heard this phrase before: “How does a mouse eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” Essentially it means that to reach any large goal you’ve got to break it down into bite-size pieces and eventually over time you’ll achieve it. There are other versions that include laying one brick at a time to build a wall, for example, but they all mean the same thing. The typical analysis of this riddle is that it’s a way to view an intimidating, challenging, or outrageous task and make it manageable, palatable, or less anxiety inducing. My Dad is rather fond of this phrase, repeating it to me often, but it’s not for the typical reason.

The thing is, I’ve never been someone to be intimidated by my own goals. Rather, I’ve often picked some incredible, lofty thing I want to do, am able to see the path to get there, and then somehow get caught up and sidetracked in the process. I’m fond of cutting corners, I get bored easily, and can I be quite impatient when the final result isn’t already here, even if I’m steadily working toward it. For me, eating the elephant one bite at a time isn’t about managing overwhelm, it’s about not getting caught in the weeds. Perhaps Dory’s “Just keep swimming” would be a better motto, but for me, one bite at a time means to just keep going, one step at a time, and not be so focused on how close or far away the end goal is to completion. It’s typically how I write novels, from start to finish, not knowing every detail on the way, using the ‘one headlight’ method, to use another metaphor. You can drive all the way from Los Angeles to San Fransisco in the dark with only one headlight to illuminate the next twenty feet in front of you.

This method works for me. I know it doesn’t work for everyone. I personally know a writer who has to outline her entire novel within an inch of her life (and story) before she ever writes the opening sentence. For me, this is too restrictive, limits my ability to detour and make changes, and — perhaps more importantly — it often leaves me no longer interested in writing the novel for the reasons I’ve mentioned above. But that’s just me. The point I’m trying to make is that not everything works for everybody, and in an era where the it seems social media has become one big absolutist, opinionated, dumpster fire, how do we figure out what works for us?

The best advice I’ve ever been given about this was actually not to take advice, or rather to only take advice that resonates with you. And that certainly includes everything I’m saying now! At the end of the day, it’s your project, your goal, your name on the final thing. Does the advice resonate with you? Does it hit a blindspot you missed or add something you feel excited about? Or is someone just poking holes in your plan, or trying to take your project in a direction you’re not interested in going? Do what’s best for you. Be honest with yourself here and seriously consider the advice, but it’s still your goal and you will know what’s best.

Additionally, consider where the advice is coming from. I once knew of a man who wanted to offer classes on publishing short stories yet had never published one himself. I know of a theatre company that’s comprised entirely of actors and every production they put on has great acting but horrendous tech and directing. It’s pretty hard to get your cues to go on time if you don’t have a stage manager, or for your blocking to be great if the ‘director’ is also onstage starring in every scene. I’m sure you understand the point I’m trying to make here. Consider who is offering you the advice. If they don’t have a backgroud in whatever it is, then should they really be the authority on the matter? Likewise with any sort of paid workshop or education. Does your instructor practice what they preach?

And finally, I’m a firm believer that there’s no one right or wrong way to do something. Yes, I’m fascinated by learning the stories of inspirational people and mentors who came before, but if their stories have taught me anything, it’s that there isn’t one route to the finish line. Sure there are things we can learn, tips to be passed down, and advice to share that may or may not work for us, but ultimately we’ve got to forge our own paths.

The mouse may have to eat the elephant one bite at a time, but whether he starts with the trunk or the tail is up to the mouse. Perhaps he’d prefer to start with a little elephant brisket, rubbed in olive oil, rosemary, and thyme, and slow roasted on a spit over an open flame until the meat just about falls off the bone. Throw in a nice bit of mashed potato, glazed carrot, gravy, and a house side salad. Delish. You probably weren’t thinking of starting with that, were you?

So, when it comes to finishing your next ‘big thing’, consider: How do you take your first bite?