Suddenly, my own debt load seems just a little less — and I do mean a little less — burdensome

Image by Andres Rueda via Flickr

The debt I have is supposed to be the "good" kind. The kind taken on by entrepreneurs willing to risk their financial future on a dream . . .

Well, putting aside the goodness or badness of my debt, here's something that made me feel like a towering symbol of responsibility by contrast:

U.S. Debt $668,621 Per Household

No that's not a typo: that's the statistic according to USA Today. The folks over there have done some really great work this week with another interesting interactive chart attached to an article about the nation's debt. If they keep this up, I'll have to stop considering it a useless free newspaper I step over when leaving a hotel room. The numbers it reports are staggering.

Again, I wish I could include the interactive chart it shows, but it breaks down the $668,621 by various components of federal government debt ($546,668) and personal debt ($121,953). Presumably that means this astronomical figure does not even include state and local government debt.

Well, that passed quickly. I'm back to looking at the mountain of my personal debt.

What a check starts to look like

Image via Wikipedia

I signed up a new client a couple of weeks ago. As ususal, it started with a phone call. One or two calls and emails later, and voila — we were meeting to formalize my engagement.

I liked how squared away she was. She did exactly what I asked her to do for the first meeting. She brought two signed copies of the fee agreement, a signed copy of the form for me to replace her soon-to-be former attorney, and . . . the check.

Ah, the check. It was hard to miss. It was attached with a binder clip to the neat stack of papers she had in front of her, and she was sitting just across the table from me. It was right on top, and it was hard to take my eyes off of it. I'm pretty sure I was drooling, because after a few minutes it no longer looked like a check, it looked like this:

Actually, it looked more like a ribeye with the bone in.  But you get the picture.

Aaaauuuugghhhh! I can't believe I jinxed myself!

I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.

The day after posting my first ever post with a "successes" label — the very next day — the one and only truly well-heeled client I've pulled in over the last few years pulled the plug on the work I was doing for him. He wasn't dissatisfied with my work, he wasn't angry at my bills. But the work I was doing was just part of the big picture for him, and it wasn't necessary to continue it now.

I remember thinking as I typed out the post, "I hope this isn't like saying that a pitcher has a no hitter going." Turns out it was. It's not like I was bragging or anything. I was just tired of the blog being a downer.

There's still a chance this client could restart the engines on these projects. I'm hoping so.

In the meantime, I've got some other prospects, so I'll just keep working to sign 'em up. Oh jeez, I hope that wasn't a jinx, too!

I'm still here . . .

. . . but not struggling so much, lately.  Knock on wood.

Just got my fourth paying client off the blog a day or two ago, and I've been busier than ever since the beginning of December.

I went soft there, just for a week or so, with a fat client trust account (fat by my standards, anyway), thinking maybe things will work out after all.  Now I'm back in hunter-seeker mode, trying to zero in on new prospects.

A crushing realization: I'm on the dole.

I never applied for welfare.  That is, I never went to a government office and said I was out of work and needed money.  But I find myself on the dole nonetheless.

How?

The "Earned Income Tax Credit."  From the IRS website:

The Earned Income Tax Credit (EITC) sometimes called the Earned Income Credit (EIC), is a refundable federal income tax credit for low-income working individuals and families. Congress originally approved the tax credit legislation in 1975 in part to offset the burden of social security taxes and to provide an incentive to work. When the EITC exceeds the amount of taxes owed, it results in a tax refund to those who claim and qualify for the credit.

In other words, I last year I had so little income that, notwithstanding substantial premature, taxable withdrawals from my IRA, my tax liability was still less than the EITC, and the government is giving me the difference. 

I was expecting to owe a lot in federal income taxes because not all of my premature contributions had tax withheld.  When my tax preparer told me last week (I had an extension) that I was going to get money, I asked how that was possible.  When he told me it was the EITC, I felt bad enough, but then he added: "That's highly unusual.  I only have one or two people a year that qualify for that."  Gee, thanks for making me feel worse!

Yeah, I know that a lot of people say that the EITC is not welfare because it goes to "working people."   In other words, they claim that because it's not simply doling out money to people without a job, then it's not welfare.

But it's the government giving me money because I'm in sorry financial shape.  It's hard for me to rationalize that away as just another "tax deduction."

As with most setbacks, I am going to try to turn this into a positive.  I've never had a motivator this strong, and you can bet that if I am ever as successful as I think I have the potential to be,  I will look back on this time as a driving force. 

The Rationale Behind the New Sidebar Header Photo

My wife has known about this blog almost since its inception, but I don't think she's ever read it. She knows it is therapeutic for me to get my thoughts down. But she's not that familiar with the overall tenor of the blog.

This weekend, I added the photo you see under the "About Me and this Blog" heading in the sidebar. My wife, sitting next to me on the sofa, where I was working on my laptop, noticed the photo.

"Oh, that's such a sad photo!" she said.

"It's a sad blog," I responded.

I think she may read it now.

On the brighter side, I've lightened up the blog.  No more black background, a little more color.  A little more cheery.

UPDATE (10/29/08):  Maybe I should have said this is a sad blog so far.

I Should Have Such Problems

A couple of weeks ago, a lawyer in Nevada named Tami Cowden ran a couple of posts on her Appealing in Nevada blog about the odd number of resources available to lawyers who want to transition out of practice.

In her first post, she wondered, do other professions act like this?

In her second, she hits on one of the reasons that lawyers get discouraged about practicing law, and puts it in personal terms when she writes: "[I]n my more cynical moments, I have described commercial litigation as working for wealthy people who can’t get along."

I think that is a very common sentiment among litigators, especially among associates in big law firms. I had the same feeling myself on occasion when I was an associate. I even had an associate from the adverse firm express that sentiment to me about the case in which we faced each other! So, like many lawyers, I thought at times that there simply had to be better uses of my time.

I acted on that impulse, but by going into a different area of law rather than leaving it entirely.

Now, of course, I long for a few well-heeled clients, no matter how inane their problems, as long as I could turn those problems into paying work. Trust me, all you associates complaining about how your work is not rewarding — it could be a lot worse. You could be in my shoes. That thought won't get you through thirty years of an unsatisfying career, but it should provide at least temporary solace. Perhaps it will at least keep your work from suffering or give you a more sober view of your options.

I'm not trying here to belittle the concerns of lawyers facing career dissatisfaction. Remember, I was once in your shoes. I'm just providing a little perspective.

By the way. Ms. Cowden's second post goes on to describe a particularly satisfying occasion, which is worth reading about.

Back Up and Running

One of the problems with a struggling practice (beside the obvious financial hardship) is that it causes one — or causes me, more accurately — to think from time to time that if I can just make it past — X being whatever obstacle I see in my way — then things will improve. There are a couple of problems with that approach.

I'll illustrate both problems by analogizing to my first (and, to date, only) century (100-mile bike ride), in which the course ran through the Sierra foothills (but it was not the California Death Ride, which would have been impossible for me). Suffice it to say that I finished, but that I wasn't in nearly the shape I should have been.

Now, to the problems.

First, X might not go away. Because the century course ran through the foothills, there were many twisty ascents, and the view around each curve was usually obstructed by evergreens, so you couldn't usually tell what was around the next turn, let alone how far it was to the summit. If I had a nickel for every time during that ride that I looked up in exhaustion and thought, "the summit has to be around the next curve" only to find yet another climbing turn in front of me, I would have been able to retire my student loan debt a few years early. What might not go away, or at least last far longer than you think you can stand in your practice? How about a lack of business, or perhaps some personal financial setbacks?

Second, even if the X is removed (or, better yet, overcome), that doesn't mean you have long to wait before you meet the next X. My relief at reaching each summit in the bike ride lasted just until I finished coasting back to the bottom, when it was time for the next climb. So, it's not necessarily going to be smooth sailing.

These thoughts are brought to mind by the fact that I finally replaced my computer and wireless internet card. That's one X out of the way . . . I no longer have to do a lot of work on my living room computer. And I cannot even being to convey how demoralizing that theft was. I really felt I was being kicked while I was down.

So, I'm wondering what my next X will be and when it will hit. Not in a sad sack, "poor me" sort of way, but in a "I want to be prepared" sort of way.

Whatever it is, it's nothing that more business can't help.

Please, Please Stop Asking Me for Free Legal Services

Image via Wikipedia I just can't stand it anymore. Since the exceptional low point nearly three weeks ago of having my computer stolen, at least six people have asked me to represent them for free. What gives? Why do you think I would do that? I'm barely scraping by here.

If you need free legal services, call a public service organization related to your concern or call your county bar association and see if they have a pro bono panel, i.e., a slate of lawyers willing to provide free representation in the right circumstances.

Stop calling me, unless you're prepared to pay a reasonable fee. I mean it. I'm beginning to feel like I have a "kick me" sign on my back. You're going to drive me insane.

To the Thief Who Stole My Computer

Around 5:30 a.m. on August 7 — I know the time from the alarm log — you broke the window to my office and pulled out my iMac, Fujitsu scanner, USB hub and wireless broadband card, and got away before response to the alarm arrived. Those items will cost me about $2,000 to replace.

I've waited this long to post because my feelings have vacillated over the last 20 days between wishing you had severed an artery when you broke the window to get in or that my iMac might accidentally fall into the tub while you're taking a bath (sinful thoughts, I know, and ones that I fight) and just trying to brush this off and carry on. My initial post contained both sentiments — ill will toward you and a defiant "you can't beat me, I will carry on" type of rah-rah BS.

I just don't know about the rah-rah any more. I've been struggling for years, I've been busting my ass nearly around the clock the last two months bringing in some fees for a change, I'm barely feeding my family, and around $20,000 in work recently melted away. I am hanging by a very thin thread — financially, emotionally, mentally. For a few days there, I was thinking that you actually did me in.

Then, some good news. It looks like the insurance company is going to come through with replacement value for everything. So, the struggle continues - even though I am currently using that money to live on and won't be able to replace the computer for a while.

I Wasn't Emotionally Prepared for My Move-Out

Well, you know that my lease recently ended.  And you know that I started with an office that was snazzier than I needed.  So, I should have been thrilled at the opportunity to downsize, and I was.

And yet, it has been a painful experience.  Packing up my office was a lot like those scenes you see in movies, where someone packs up the house they've always lived in, and every item they touch holds its own memory.  Except in those scenes, its almost always fond memories that are evoked.  In my real-life move out, the memories were almost all bad, about promise unfulfilled.

First, I was forced to face what a pack rat I've been.  All that paper!  most of which I didn't need and went straight into the recycling bin, where it should have gone months or years ago.

Them there was the substance of so many of those papers.  Lost opportunities.  Poor follow-up.  And in way, way too many cases, time wasted.

There were the memories of how excited I was to move into the office, certain of how impressed potential clients would be, and that I'd be making money within a year, two at most.  That unfulfilled expectation is really putting a damper on my hopes for the new place, though I know I have to learn from my past experience.

Anyway, those bad memories kept hitting me as I packed up the office, and it was really tough because my wife was helping me pack and our young daughter was there most of the day, too.  So it made me even more conscious than I usually am that those failures meant that I had failed my family.  Had I not been so busy with so much packing and moving to do, I don't know how long I would have dwelt on those thoughts.  As it was, thank God, I was so busy that I couldn't dwell on them.  Still, they were enough to stress me out, to make me short with my wife even as she was helping me.

Now that I think about it, this is a purely cathartic post.  Not much you can learn from it.  And I don't mean to scare anyone out of going solo.  But it this post instills a little fear in you, that's not a bad thing.

My Lease is Up! Time for a Fresh Look at Overhead.

You've seen me post previously about renting too much or too nice of an office.  That was a BIG mistake of mine.  Worse yet, I had an escape clause that I could have exercised after either of the first two years of the lease, and I decided each time not to exercise it.  Dumb.

At the end of the first year, I figured I still needed the nice space to impress those clients that were going to walk through the door "any day now."  After all, it had only been a year, and everything I'd read told me I was supposed to still be losing money (which I was), so I thought I'd take it another year.  The two-year point was the pint, after all, at which I was supposed to start making money.

So another year went by, time to either get out of the lease or stick it out for the full three-year ride.  To tell you the truth, I can't really remember why I didn't exercise the early termination clause.  I know it was a conscious decision (i.e., that I didn't just forget and miss the deadline), but I can't remember why I made it.  Could be that I had a burst of business at the time that both made it inconvenient to move and convinced me that prosperity was around the corner.  Could be I was just stubborn and wasn't willing to admit that I had bitten off more than I could chew.  After all, I still had money in the bank back then.  Whatever the reason, I stayed in the for the long haul.

Now, the three years is up, and none too soon.  Beautiful building, great landlord, nice location, even fair rent -- but even the fair rent is more than I can afford right now.  So I am downsizing quite a bit.  A home office wasn't practical, so I still had to rent space, but at only about 36% of the rent I've been paying for the last year.  That ought to help.

A friend of mine helped me move some of my office furniture into storage (another expense, but I'm hoping I'll need it again in another year or so, and storing it is much cheaper than buying the same quality all over again).  He said to me as we were carrying something down to the truck, "I don't mean to sound callous, but I remember asking you as you were moving in (he helped with that, too), 'Are you sure you need all this space and this nice of an office?'"  I remembered that very clearly . . . damn!.

The change in office is a good opportunity to reevaluate all of my overhead.

Phone lines and Internet ISP?  Gone!  It will be less expensive for me to use cell phone for voice, Sprint wireless broadband for Internet, MyFax for Internet faxing.  With the wireless broadband, I can drop my ISP.  No hard feelings towards any of my vendors.  The AT&T service was fine, and I would happily recommend DSL Extreme, which was great.  But money is money.

Westlaw subscription?  That $500-a-month monkey on my back is over in about three more months, and I'm letting it drop.  I actually love the service, but handy as it has proven to be (working on those briefs and memoranda late at night, after the law library closes), my client load was never consistent enough for me to be sure I'd have clients to pass the cost through to every month.  I ate a lot of it out of my pocket.  Doing without will require two things: (1) a satisfactory, low-cost alternative (Loislaw, maybe) and (2) the discipline to adjust my work habits so I'm not doing late-night work and can get heavy-duty research done at the library (which happens to make Westlaw available to its patrons) during the day.

(You may be wondering why I have to work late at night when business has generally been slow.  Two reasons: (1) when I got business, it was in spurts, and (2) ADD [I think].)

The combined savings in rent, phone, Internet, and Westlaw will be around $1300 per month.  Yeah!

In any event, I'm sure happy for these changes.  Combined with a recent uptick in business, they are giving me reason to hope -- for around the 10th time or so since I opened my practice, I'm afraid --  that prosperity is right around the corner.

Here I go!

Get Your ADD Under Control Before You Go Solo

That post title may strike you as tongue-in-cheek, but it's not. I'm deadly serious. And forgive all the background you're about to read before you get to the point of this post, but it's necessary.

Do I have Attention Deficit Disorder? I don't know for sure. I've always considered it an over-diagnosed "disorder." But I can tell you that since I started writing this post around 60 seconds ago, I've already thought of 5 other things to do and I almost left this page in the middle of typing this to run a Google search on one of those items.

I used to joke about having ADD. When I was an in-house general counsel, I used to come home frustrated with all the different things that had tugged at my attention diuring the day, with the result that I would hop from project to project. I'd come home and tell my wife, "It's as if I have adult ADD!"

Well, maybe I do. My wife is fairly convinced of it. She's been reading up on it because our daughter has dyslexia, and dyslexia and ADD often go hand in hand.

I'm not yet convinced, but I'm getting there. I know how my mind can flit from one thing to another. But I don't quite seem to fit the profile. According to the book I'm reading, Delivered from Distraction: Getting the Most out of Life with Attention Deficit Disorder, the typical ADD sufferer is an underachiever and behavior problem in school and tends to "settle" for an unsatisfying marriage and career. That just doesn't describe me at all. I was near the top of my class in high school and law school (undergrad, where I majored in electrical engineering, was another story -- I barely finished in the top half of my class). And, to put it mildly, I was (for the most part) a "goody two shoes." And I sure didn't "settle" when it came to marrying or my career. I think I made out like a bandit in my choice of spouse and I am in the career that I want, and that I thoroughly enjoy when I am not being distracted . . . I'm just not sure I'll be able to make a living at it on my own.

No, school was no problem, nor was my coice of spouse or career. It's everything else I have a problem with.

But I also think I demonstrate the upside of ADD: I am a creative thinker. Sometimes, too creative, which can be a problem. I come up with a million ideas during any given project, most of which are eventually jettisoned, but can get in the way of the development of ideas that make it through to the end.

So, whether I technically have ADD or not, whether it's actually a "disorder" or not (regardless, it is a different way of thinking), I know that I am distracted from my tasks many times during the day. Sometimes, I go to the law library to work, even if I don't need to use its resources, just to eliminate distractions like internet access and administrative office tasks. (I'm not about to seek medication, and will not self-medicate with alcohol or drugs, which is apparently common.)

I have the potential to succeed despite ADD. So, my immediate steps are to become aware of how my mind works. I am now very often aware when I am being distracted and can correct much better than I used to.

The authors of Delivered from Distraction note that many highly successful business people have ADD. I've only looked at one case study so far (I'm not very far in the book), but the keys seem to be to concentrate on being the creative guy and delegating out all the admin stuff.

That can be tough to do when you're starting out as a solo with no staff, but it can be done. For example, I think Foonberg's advice to hire a bookkeeper is the best advice in his book. You can also get cost-effective help with typing, etc., maybe hire someone to come in one day a week to get all your filing up to date. The less organizing you have to do, the better -- at least that's what my ADD-addled mind leads me to believe.

What else am I doing? My wife is reading a book titled ADD-Friendly Ways to Organize Your Life, and that's next on my list. I've also discovered an ADD-specific blog: The Splintered Mind by Douglas Cootey: Overcoming AD/HD & Depression With Lots Of Humor And Attitude (which looks especially promising because the blogger is, like me, very cautious about medicating for ADD). There are probably more out there, but I'll have to be careful not to over-commit.

So, finally to the point of this post. Be very honest with yourself about how you work. Have you been troubled by ADD? If you have, recognize it and plan for it. Start reading about it. I sure wish I had, instead of just joking about it.

UPDATE:  Ray Ward at the (new) legal writer has a post describing how distractions like e-mail and the telephone can interfere with getting actual work done.  I feel that distraction in spades.  Sequestering myself in the library is sometimes the only way to avoid it.

The Risk of Failure

The message of this video is a good one, so long as you don't concentrate on ULTIMATE failure. Watch it, then I'll explain.

Obviously, you can't start your solo practice with an attitude of "well, failure happens." But failures are going to happen along the way. Not just court losses, but maybe slow months, an inability to meet expenses, a lost client here and there, even failed professional relationships.

You have to slog through these setbacks, but you have to do more than that. You have to recognize the failures and spend time analyzing them so you can learn from them and adjust. That's something I don't think I did enough of, though I'm sure making up for it now!

Hat tip: Sheryl Schelin at The Inspired Solo.

Dress for Success?

I wrote most of this post about a month ago, when it looked like my blog was actually going to bear some fruit. But I can tell you that in that short time I have somewhat soured on blogging.

I work damn hard on my professional blog (I don't mean this one). I can't spend just 20 minutes a day on it like some law bloggers because I cannot "blog my work" -- it's not the nature of my blog.

So anyway, here is what I started writing about a month ago. I'm not sure I believe it any longer, for reasons I'll explain at the end.

Start reading a blog called Real Lawyers Have Blogs. The guy who writes it (and I believe founded the company Lexblog), Kevin O'Keefe, is considered an internet marketing sensation and he knows what he's talking about. There's reams of advice over there.

This post is going to give you some of my personal experience. Not for this blog, obviously, which isn't even two weeks old. No, this post concerns my professional, substantive law blog, which is less than a year old -- and which, in order to retain my anonymity, I cannot name, since my real name obviously appears on my professional blog.

I noticed that my blog started gaining more traffic as time went on, and when I looked at referral sources, I saw that most of it was from Google searches, and that a lot of the traffic was to older posts. Those two factors suggest that your traffic will naturally go up as the number of posts accumulates because there are now more Google searches that will turn up posts on your blog. You may be frustrated early on that non one seems to be reading your blog. Keep with it, and you will see the traffic grow.

A blog opens a relationship with your prospective clients and referral sources. Like all networking relationships, it takes time for it to bear fruit.

Blogging can be a little intimidating. Everyone that tells you to start one tells you to do so at least in part because a blogging on a particular area of the law connotes expertise in that area, and maybe you don't feel like an expert because you're going solo right out of law school or to start practice in a new area of the law. But you can't let that show. Who cares if you say something that people won't agree with. Lawyers disagree all the time. You're all smart enough to make sense most of the time, so don't be intimidated about blogging.

In fact, maybe you are going solo specifically to move into a new practice area. So you might start substantive blogging even BEFORE you open your practice. Your blog is probably portable -- as long as yours is the name on the blog and you do no more than describe yourself as an employee, you might be able to take your blog with you. I think Carolyn Elefant's new book, Solo by Choice, has a chapter on that subject.

My own professional blog is about nine months old. It took several months before it brought in a client inquiry, and it has brought in a total of 20 or so client inquiries, none of which I could take because none of them had any money. But the inquiries came, and they have lately increased. So I think the earlier, the better.

By the time you go solo, you will have found your true blogging voice and will be in fine form to announce your new solo status on the blog.So, in ten months of blogging, I have converted exactly ZERO inquiries from it into paying clients because NONE OF THEM HAD ANY MONEY.

What's changed since I started this post a month ago is that I have finally become fed up with people expecting me to work for remotely distant, improbable deferred compensation. It is quite amazing to me that someone can sit in front of my desk, present their case, and then expect me to take it for free or for deferred compensation that has a very dim chance of materializing.

Do these people do this with their doctors? Veterinarians? Grocers? Gardeners? I doubt it. But somehow they think that when they need a service where there is a lot of money at stake, they should not be expected to pay anything up front or even pay as they go.

I suppose it is fallout from all of the personal injury advertising you see. But I am in a field that is not often suitable for contingency fees.

In any event, I am now convinced that the only thing I have accomplished with my blog is to educate other lawyers in my field, convince lawyers in other fields that they can do what I do without hiring me (when I am actually trying to convince them that they need my expertise), and attract penniless clients to my office like bees to honey. I'm getting rather tired of it.

So maybe one part of my advice stands: read the blogs about law blogging. Maybe you'll pick up some tips that will help you avoid my predicament. But honest to God, I have followed a lot of that advice myself, and it has gotten me nowhere.

I'm tired of hearing from people with no money. Do us both a favor. If you can't pay me, don't call me. As this post drags on, I realize that people with no money deserve their own post, so I'll stop here and get started on a new post.

Don't Even Joke about It. Really.

There were times during the last three years that I kind of used humor to get by. Just cynical humor. Like when I just started and had no clients, I used to call myself "self-unemployed."

One day, my wife mentioned how our house was "starting to come along." We'd been painting here and there, tearing up some floors, other very minor and inexpensive home improvements that were starting to make a big impact. So my wife says, "We're getting this place in shape, hon! It's gonna look good!" To which I cynically responded, "Yeah, we ought to have it all fixed up right around the time we have to sell it."

It really wasn't funny then, back when I still had money in the bank. It's really not funny now.

Bottom line: don't joke about failure, even if grim humor has worked for you in the past. It has a way of becoming self-fulfilling, I think.

Desperate Acts aren't Always Useless Acts

I've had a nice confluence of the real world with the theoretical in the last several weeks.

Hungry for work, I decided to call a lawyer I know to see if he had any ideas where I could pick up some work or who might be looking to hire someone like me. You see, I am at the point where I am simultaneously looking for employment and looking for new clients (more on that in a later post).

I don't even know this lawyer all that well. In fact, I have probably spoken to him less than half a dozen times over six years.

So why did I call him? I knew he liked me. He interviewed me six years ago for a position with a firm he and an old friend were starting. He was solo at the time, his friend was (I believe) leaving a firm, and the two of them were starting up a new firm. He liked me enough, at least, to have me meet together with him and his new partner after he met with me alone. But they never made me an offer.

Then, out of the blue, around a year ago he e-mailed me to see what I was up to and perhaps if I could help him out on a project or two (which never came to fruition). Since then, I've e-mailed him every few months to let him know how things are going and to keep the relationship alive, so I would be on his short list if he needed help.

As I said, this time I called him specifically for advice on where I might pick up some work and/or find a job. He gave me the names of two busy lawyers he knows. I've already completed one contract project for one of them and am started on another. I've been in touch with the second lawyer and we should be meeting soon.

Here's the confluence of the real world with the theoretical world: I opened Carolyn Elefant's Solo by Choice to a random page the other day, and saw one of her marketing tidbits. I don't have it in front of me now, but it boiled down to this: instead of sending out a mass mailing that's likely to get thrown into the wastebasket on receipt, call half a dozen people to see if they can guide you to some work.

I placed my call out of desperation. But it also turns out to have been the sensible thing to do.

Lesson: if you already know some lawyers when you start your practice, keep in touch with them regularly. Seems obvious, so I'll add this caveat. Take extra care to keep in touch with lawyers that like you, whether they like you on a personal level or a professional one. The guy I called? I'd never done a stitch of work for him. He knew me from my resume, three personal meetings, a phone call or two, and a couple of e-mails describing my efforts to gain more business. But we got along very well on a personal level, and it paid off.

I've called to thank him for steering me to these other two lawyers, and you can bet your britches I'll keep this relationship alive. (After all, I like him on a personal level as well.)

The Difference a Check Makes

Image from WikipediaGot a check from a client today. Promptly after invoicing him. For every penny he owed me. A little over $700.

With the exception of a recent check I got from the state for some work done as appointed counsel for indigent criminal defendants lately, it's the largest check I've gotten in months.

I never -- well, not since I was about 25, anyway -- thought I'd be looking at a $700 check like manna from heaven.

Oddly, this check has buoyed my spirits. Not because the $700 is going to make or break my practice. But because the client paid promptly and has already given me a second project that will pay more.

Thanks for the Well Wishes

This blog hasn't attracted many readers, but I have received very nice comments and/or e-mails from several people, including a few bloggers on my "Solos Doing It Right" blogroll. All have wished me well in turning around my practice, and I am very grateful for their thoughts.

I had been a little worried that people who saw this blog might think it is satire or write it off as the rantings of a bitter failure, but these comments tell me it is being received as I intended: serious reflections from a solo who has tried hard yet finds himself on the brink of failure.

So thanks for the well wishes, everyone, and know that you have mine, as well.

I want to be a "Shingular Sensation," Yeah!

Carolyn Elefant at My Shingle inaugurated her "Shingular Sensations" series last week. She says that every week or two, she hopes "to interview a solo or a small firm lawyer who in one way or another represents the best that this genre has to offer," and who can also teach us a thing or two. She starts her series with a profile of Andy Simpson, a lawyer in the Virgin Islands who recently obtained a large damage award against the U.S. Marshals Service in a discrimination case.

Believe me, if I can turn around my practice from its present situation, that may be worthy of a "Shingular Sensation" accolade. That would be cool, except for having to relive again how I got here.

But maybe no one will remember that part. Just like when people heap praise on someone for turning their life around from one addiction or another. (Hell, people heap praise on someone just for entering rehab, let alone completing it.) They remember the turnaround, not the addiction.

I hope that's the way it is for me. But to find out, I need to accomplish the turnaround first.