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Twelve years ago this Christmas
I left the small firm where I first started practicing law, and
went out on my own. While I'm aware that the decision was an
agonizing one, I seem to have forgotten the details -- the same
way that you forget pain. All I remember is that one day the
urge was overwhelming to have my own firm, one with just my name
on the letterhead and no-one else's. Not long after that I found
myself rolling my potted palm and boxes of files over the skyway
to my new office and realizing that, unlike most of the hoard
coming at me from the other direction, I would not have a paycheck
come Friday. Welcome to the new world!
This is not another how-to article -- as in how to run your own
law practice. Frankly I'm still not sure I've got that down.
But a few things I've learned along the way just keep asserting
themselves, and so seem worth sharing.
Little Checks Are As Good As Big Checks.
When I first started practicing on my own, I was fortunate enough
to have a series of copyright impoundment cases in federal court.
My client produced videotapes of long-running Chinese soap operas,
and Minnesota was a hotbed for bootlegged copies of these programs.
While not exactly cornucopian, these cases still generated fairly
healthy legal fees for me because they were complicated and the
client was a profitable business who was happy with my work.
The downside was that I began to view work which wasn't as remunerative
as copyright impoundment litigation as not worth the trouble.
I hadn't exactly planned to be a copyright impoundment boutique,
but I got lulled into the idea after I had more than two of these
cases. I didn't stop to think that there might not be too much
demand for such specialized work. Eventually the copyright impoundment
cases dried up and I had to rethink things.
Rethinking things is a fairly regular function of the sole practitioner.
The point is that you can wait for a long time for the next big
check from the big case, when you could be getting a lot of little
checks from smaller matters. Don't let your ego cause you to
overlook the less glamorous ways to make a living (we're talking
about incorporations and wills here) that are likely to come
your way in the leaner times.
Litigation Does Not Reproduce
Most people -- and, for that matter, most small businesses --
will never end up in a commercial lawsuit. Nor do their friends.
Business people are usually too practical. Even someone who gets
into a lawsuit once probably won't do it again. There are exceptions,
of course, but as a general rule, litigation does not reproduce
itself. You may have the greatest case in the world: fascinating,
lucrative, and protracted. But once it's over, it's over. That
is why it is difficult to build your solo practice around commercial
litigation. (Note, however, that personal injury and divorce
litigation seem to follow different rules entirely and are much
more fertile.)
Don't Wait for the Phone to Ring, Because It Won't.
A long time ago, a bond-broker friend of mine made reference
to something he called "over-the-transom business."
As its name implies, this is business that comes in over the
transom (some of you will remember the little rectangular window
above the office door). I used to be a big fan of over-the-transom
business, even though I never got too much of it. In truth, occasionally
you will get that telephone call out of the blue that saves you
for the month, but more often than not you won't.
The point is simple. You have to do something to market yourself.
Whatever works for you is fine: the license plate that spells
out "LGL EGL"; speaking to trade groups; golf; writing
articles. But whatever you do, do something! Sitting around waiting
for the phone to ring will not only drive you crazy, it will
make you poor. |
Jeff Alden is a sole practitioner
in Minneapolis whose practice focuses on problems encountered
by small businesses. He received his J.D. from Seattle University
School of Law and is a graduate of Princeton University. |
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"Rethinking things
is a fairly regular function of the sole practitioner."
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Spend the Time It Takes, No Matter How Absurd
Once you open your doors you may find that you have a lot more
time on your hands than you used to. That's not to say solo lawyers
aren't busy a lot of the time, but it's different. There are
no partnership meetings, marketing committee meetings, hiring
committee meetings, or billing committee meetings. In short,
there are no meetings, period. There's nobody to meet with.
But having some time on your hands can be a good thing: it gives
you all the time you need to do a good job. Admittedly, that
can be frightening. But as long as you have it, you might as
well take advantage of the opportunity.
I remember one July when, working on a hunch, I spent an unprintable
amount of time doing innumerable interest calculations on a seemingly
infinite number of small transactions which had occurred many
years ago, just because I was curious to see what they would
all add up to. I doubt I ever would have spent the time if I'd
been in a normal work environment (or, as I thought at the time,
if I was a normal person). Suffice it to say that the calculations
gave me a new theory for my case; what had been looking like
a throwaway loser turned out to be the opposite. Moral: don't
just sit around looking at the transom; use your time to become
a better lawyer.
Admit What You Don't Know; and Collaborate on the Rest
This one is somewhat humbling, but as a solo attorney you should
not try to be all things to all people. It's one matter to have
a wide range of interests and be willing to take on new things.
Still, most of us know that there are some things best left to
others.
Several years ago, I had to admit to myself that I'm not really
much of a trial lawyer. Since a substantial part of my business
was (and still is) litigation, this realization led to a crisis
in my practice. And, as is usually the case if you're a solo,
the problem was compounded by the fact that there was no one
else around to fix it.
After much hard thinking and seriously considering all other
possibilities, I talked to friends whom I knew to be good trial
lawyers to make sure I'd be able to count on them in a pinch.
Now, when I take on a new piece of litigation, I explain to the
client that I don't do trials and that if it appears there will
actually be one, I'll collaborate with someone who does. It goes
into the retainer agreement, and that's that. Clients seem to
understand (and even appreciate) this, and I've been freed up
from having to do something I don't do particularly well, or
(perhaps worse) having to pretend I'm someone I'm not.
Get Involved In Something Bigger Than You
It takes a pretty strong ego to practice law on your own. You
don't have the institutional support that comes from being connected
to something bigger than you, which for lawyers usually means
a law firm (even a small one).
Several years ago I started going to a big downtown church on
Sundays, at first just to hear the Welsh minister who reminded
me of an English professor I'd had in college. After I'd been
doing this for a while (albeit sporadically), I called the church
and said I'd like to volunteer to do something "hands-on."
I ended up on a committee that provided rent subsidies and mentoring
to single women with children. Since that time I've had many
opportunities to do something positive (not always the case in
law), and I've met some great people who don't think like lawyers.
To be sure, this has involved lots of meetings and telephone
calls and work. But let's face it: being a solo can be lonely.
Meetings and telephone calls and work are one way to stave off
isolation.
Be Yourself -- That's The Main Reason You're Doing This
In a very literal sense, being on your own forces you to be yourself.
At first, I kept waiting for some ghostly higher-up to drop the
other shoe -- you know, the file that's been gathering dust,
the fascinating project that has to be done by Monday. After
a month or two, I realized this was not going to happen anymore.
I might get myself into a jam, but I was no longer working for
someone else who could get me into his jams.
The flip side, of course, was that no higher-up was calling my
name at all.
There was suddenly no one to answer my questions or give me feedback.
Decisions that I used to run by my colleagues I now had to make
myself. While gradually I developed a new grapevine (I don't
recommend practicing law in a vacuum), there is no question that
practicing on your own forges a certain self-reliance: you are
really the one whose opinion matters here. Which leads me to
the following conclusion: Probably the thing that is of the greatest
value in practicing on your own is the opportunity to be who
you really are.
After I figured out that I had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to
do what I really wanted to do, I wrote a comic novel about (what
else?) what it's like to practice law. My book hasn't been published
and may never be published. But I can now go to my grave knowing
I did the big thing that I had always wanted to do.
Be There On Friday Afternoons
This one is relatively simple. Be there on Friday afternoons.
I don't adhere to this as much as I should; after all, what's
the point of working for yourself if you can't take off when
you feel like it? But, and I say this based upon the most unscientific
of observation, business comes in more on Friday afternoons than
any other time. Around three o'clock, to be more specific. A
corollary of this rule is that, generally, business doesn't come
in if you are not there.
Eat Right and Get Plenty of Exercise
Being a solo attorney requires the feeling -- perhaps the illusion
-- that you are on top of things. You're responsible for billing
and banking, bookkeeping, marketing, legal research, client relations,
and litigation strategies, as well as remembering to get more
toner and filing your malpractice insurance application on time.
Among other things. Most importantly, you have to be in command
of that gnawing feeling that you're dangling over the abyss.
There is no better way to handle all of this than to keep in
shape.
You Can't Go Home Again
Once or twice I've thought maybe I should pack it all in and
try to find my way back to a real law firm. At times, the abyss
below has yawned a little too wide for me. But then I remember
how I felt when I decided to hang out that shingle with just
my name on it, and you know, I'd really miss the view from here. |
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