Benjamin Franklin said, "By failing to prepare, you're preparing to fail." Sounds wise, but I doubt Benjamin Franklin carried on a busy litigation practice.
Hunched over my desk, surrounded by markups and a neglected dinner gone cold, I pressed on. It was almost sunrise, but despite my blurry vision and aching back, I was determined to power through. I had to perfect the agreement before the partner arrived in a few hours.
Lawyers are frequently stereotyped as being "bad at math." The stereotype is inaccurate. Lawyers must employ mathematics regularly in both litigation and transactional work; they cannot be innumerate and practice competently. The “lawyers are bad at math” stereotype excuses otherwise unacceptable practices and must not be perpetuated.
Benjamin Graham, the father of value investing, left behind a principle that has outlived him: Always insist on a margin of safety. Buy only when there is a cushion between price and true worth. That buffer is not greed; it is protection against volatility, error and unforeseen storms.
Before I was pregnant, I judged colleagues who were. If they arrived late to court, looked disheveled, or weren’t as sharp as I was, I thought, “Pull it together. Women’s bodies were ‘designed for it,’ weren’t they?” I cringe now, but I admit it: I rolled my eyes. I was ignorant. Then I got pregnant.
As an attorney, I was trained to live inside documents: case files, depositions, transcripts, contracts and endless emails. As a novelist, I now live inside fictional worlds. At first, those roles may seem miles apart. Yet when I sit down to draft a chapter or a legal argument, I’m reminded that both are ultimately about storytelling.
In the early 1990s, I was a young attorney in Chicago fresh out of law school, still learning how to balance the weight of a big-firm briefcase with my own naive ambitions.
Maybe you can identify with this. You are at the socially acceptable retirement age. Very few people, especially in your age group, understand why you are still working. “Are you retired yet?” “Oh, I’m sorry.” “You can’t take it with you!” “Before long, it will be gone, gone, gone!”
"Tweedledum and Tweedledee agreed to have a battle; for Tweedledum said Tweedledee had spoiled his nice new rattle." —Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass
When the conversation ended, I simply stared into space, stunned. I must have misheard the official from the U.S. Agency for International Development. This can’t be happening to me, I thought.
The ABA Journal wants to host and facilitate conversations among lawyers about their profession. We are now accepting thoughtful, non-promotional articles and commentary by unpaid contributors.
