Today (August 8) is my birthday, and it’s also the three-year anniversary of when I started my own firm (well, August 7). With this post, I’ll ask you to indulge me a bit.
It’s a happy birthday toast to my law firm.
It hasn’t been a straight line, but it’s always been onward and upward. I cringe a little bit re-reading my August 2020 post announcing the move. My mission statement still rings true, but, in retrospect, I hadn’t quite run my “big plans” past the other firm (or the other other firm). I was just so excited to be building something new:
I tend to wake up, involuntarily, at 4:45 a.m. or so, to worry about whether it was the right choice and about all the work to be done to build something. Opening bank accounts. Picking office space. Hiring staff. Hiring lawyers. And, of course, doing the legal work for all the clients. And by “wake up, involuntarily,” I really mean “freak out” about what’s next.
My mistake was that I had no idea what I was looking for, until I happened to find it. It’s crazy that, 3 years ago, I typed out the above words, but it never once crossed my mind to actually start my own firm. Instead, I had spent the prior 3 years looking for, simply, a different Big Law Firm. /s/ Because everybody knows that the best way to have a voice in the big firm decisions and autonomy in your law practice is to move to a Big Law Firm. /end sarcastic voice/
Fail fast. So, I had all these big plans for an innovative way to run a law firm, and then somehow decided that I should definitely open an office for a 100 year old law firm based in a city 300 miles away. Reading that last sentence, I totally see the red flag. In reality, it took about 2 weeks. One more (brief) false start later, I decided to go Solo.
Trial and Error is sometimes the best teacher. I won’t recount the mistakes I made in the first 15 months running my own firm, but I’ll tell you that, by November 2021, I was annoyed, fed up, and ready to find the biggest law firm that needed a creditor rights expert. To that end, I met with a legal recruiter, Tara Boosey (who had an office in my building), and told her that I was sick of it, described what my dream job looked like, and told her to find it for me. Her advice? “It sounds like you already have the perfect job for you.” Not what I wanted to hear at that moment, but such great advice.
Just focus on the firm I have. Then it clicked. The work and referrals had always been there, but the unlikely encouragement really focused me on my path. A past obstacle was that clients tend to call me whenever something comes up, and I fretted about the client who maybe calls once a year for an IP referral or the other who sends me 1-2 complex commercial transactions that are way over my head. How could I help them, if I wasn’t at a huge law firm? Simple: I wouldn’t. I’d focus on exactly what I do (and do best), I’d build a network of small-law experts who I trusted, and the smart clients would appreciate a thoughtful referral to another awesome attorney.
And, then, focus even more. Even though the phone never stops ringing, I bill less hours than I used to at the big law firm. That’s because I also spend so much more doing everything else: marketing, IT, accounting, you name it. There are only so many hours in the day. If I couldn’t accept every new case, then I’d have to decide which of the clients I could help. I began to ask things like: Which clients are jerks? Which ones take forever to pay? Which ones are unreasonable? Which ones don’t listen to me? Those were the first ones to go. I call it the Client Decision Tree.
The good clients sustained the firm. Three years ago, when I announced that I was leaving my old firm, one client lost his mind, thinking he didn’t have the option to go with me. In a frantic email, he wrote “Wherever you are, that’s where I want my cases.” Needless to say, that client made the cut and has followed me through every step, through 4 different email addresses (ugh). Since August 7, 2020, I’ve opened 517 new client matters1. Maybe I’m not as low volume as I thought; that number is surprisingly high. A large part of that (maybe 200) were old matters that followed me when my bank clients said “take everything.” (It turns out that my fears that I wouldn’t have any clients unless I stayed in a Big Law Firm were incorrect.)
Working less is a good thing. Once upon a time, no matter what the old firm’s billable minimum was, I exceeded it. Obsessively. It was unhealthy, and maybe bad lawyering. The law should be thoughtful, strategic work, and “high volume” anything does not create the best product. I had a crushing workload. Billable hour mandates are driven by expenses and overhead, and, if those could be kept in check, I believed that my new model could produce high quality work, balanced with a healthy lifestyle. So far, so good: Last year, my hours hit an all-time low, but my net income hit an all-career high.
The mission statement wasn’t entirely crazy, either. Since opening my own firm, I’ve been recognized as an Attorney for Justice by the Tennessee Supreme Court every year. I have helped a Nashville group distribute more than a million dollars in property tax protection and racial justice reparation funds. I’ve started a charitable program, Lawyers Give Back, that has supported 17 different area charities. And, yes, the firm works really hard in service of our clients. I still lose sleep worrying about my cases–there are just intentionally less of those cases to worry about.
In the end, I discovered that I had my dream job. At the old firm, I took my kids to school maybe 10 times over the course of 5 years. In the last 3 years, I bet I’ve done 300 drop-offs and pick-ups. I’m a better lawyer, and I’m also a more engaged husband and father. (After a “law firm divorce,” I can assure you that your law partners don’t actually love you like family.)
Byeonhosa Noraebang! I never took real vacations; instead, I’d tack a few extra days onto 3 day weekends here and there. This year, my family took a dream vacation, spending 3 weeks in South Korea. Our trip culminated with a great dinner with two Korean banking lawyers (and friends), who took our family to noraebang afterwards (on the 10th anniversary of BTS’s debut).
If you’ve made it this far, you may be wondering what my point is, other than a bit of bragging. That’s fair, but we should be able to authentically celebrate all sorts of successes and not just brag on LinkedIn about being a Super Lawyer.
There’s a stigma attached to being a solo lawyer, which isn’t fair. A lawyer doesn’t have to work at a big law firm to be successful or to produce sophisticated work. Three years ago, I couldn’t comprehend that, a result of years of false messaging from law schools and bar associations. Even 20 years into my own legal career, I fell for that BS, and my ignorance wasted a lot of my time.
Don’t get me wrong. Running a small firm is hard and can be a complete pain in the neck (feel free to read some of my other blog posts on that topic). I often tell people “It’s the best job on earth, and it’s the worst job on earth, but it’s never in the middle. I used to spend a lot of time in the middle.”
I also used to tell my kids that they were forbidden from ever becoming lawyers, because it was such an awful job. Not anymore. Now, for the first time, I can picture a day when one of my kids might take over the little firm.
What a three years it’s been. I’ll conclude this post with a celebratory link to BTS’s Mic Drop (a song in which South Korea’s greatest boy band encourages you to relish your successes and also to tell your haters to annyeonghi gaseyo).
Now, I’ll turn off the work email early and go enjoy a birthday dinner with my family.
- A prior version of this post said 549, which is what my billing software shows and sounded bizarrely high. On further research, that included a few adminstrative / pro bono / conflict type file assignments, so I reduced the number. ↩︎
Creditors Rights 101 