New Law Firm Advice: Get a Post Office Box

Having started this law firm about 6 years ago, I get asked for advice a lot.

The questions are all over the place. Technology. Marketing. Legal research. Hiring. Finding clients.

One unsolicited thing I tell them: Get a P.O. Box and use that for everything.

It’s rarely followed.

Lawyers put mailing addresses on a pedestal. We think clients view expensive street names or prestigiously high floor numbers as indicators of the quality of work the lawyer provides. In short, the more a lawyer’s rent is, the better the lawyer is, right?

What does a Post Office Box say? Maybe, that you work from home or aren’t serious about all of this. Maybe the lawyer doesn’t have enough work, yet, to have an office.


I had a little bit of that in my mind when I first started.

Inspired by the “new way of doing things,” I was leaving the big firm at the height of COVID and making the plan at the same time. I wanted to practice law in a leaner, more efficient way, and my prime directive was to avoid the big expenses and long term leases that made me so unhappy at the old firm. (To be fair, I was most “unhappy” when the firm couldn’t make payroll.)

But, to me, the lawyers who used PO Boxes all seemed to be solo lawyers, with impermanent and unestablished practices. Maybe, I thought back then, I shouldn’t try to subvert all the old assumptions all at once.

Ultimately, I got a P.O. Box for my firm, but I still tended to give clients the fancy Music Row address of the WeWork where I had an office. Looking back, by not owning it all, I perpetuated the BS.


It was dumb.

Freed from the burden of the old firm’s server rooms and storage closets full of 25 year old boxes, my nimble little firm spent 2.5 years at that fancy address, and also a month in Eulijiro, Seoul, and, after that, I switched to a different WeWork in East Nashville. To this day, though, I still get mail at that old Music Row address.

Here’s the nice thing about using a post office box, especially for a new law practice: You aren’t tied down to one physical address, one law firm entity, or one long term lease forever. You have one central mailing address for the firm, for as long as you need it, for about $200 per year.

What if, just starting the practice, you want to grow, but don’t know when or how much or for how long? What if you want to have a virtual practice and work for stretches from new locations? What if, after you start your practice, you decide this isn’t for you and you want to join another firm?

If you are part of a huge firm, this advice doesn’t apply to you. Sign that 10 year lease and never look back.

But, if you are considering starting your own practice, I urge you to use a post office box for court notices, payments, tax forms, and, well, everything. Use this one address and keep it for as long as you have the firm. Work from home, South Korea, from wherever, but know where your mail is heading.

Generally, the reason people consider starting their own firm is a dissatisfaction about “the way things have always been done” and a frustration that things could be done differently and better. Here’s an easy initial step to break the mold.

More Square Feet, More Billable Hours–Inside Nashville’s Office Space Boom

In the last 7 days, I’ve seen not one, but TWO news stories about law firms renting larger and fancier office spaces.

Maybe it was just a slow news week, but I didn’t realize that was something that justified a news story. (Is it not Super Lawyers or Best Lawyers (TM) season yet?)

Regardless, we’ve come a long way since the days of COVID, when law firms offered “flex” work arrangements, allowing lawyers and staff to work from, well, wherever they wanted to (as long as the work got done). It made financial sense (allowing some firms to downsize, reduce costs, and eliminate those wasteful “corner” offices, in favor of uniform office sizes and more collaborative space) and also met a younger generation of professionals (i.e. the non-old-white guys) where they were at.

Law firms are creatures of tradition, and, as Colliers‘ recently released 2026 Law Firm Trends Report shows, it hasn’t taken long for the old timers to summon the associates back to to their desks. By the end of 2026, Colliers predicts that law firms will expect staff to spend up to 70% of the work week in the actual office.

As for Nashville, Colliers notes the rapid (and rabid) influx of global law firms into the market, which has increased competition for the best office space. Per Colliers, Nashville’s average Class A “asking” rent is $40.40 per square foot.

Having seen the insanely high hourly rates that these new law firms are injecting into the local market, I have no doubt they can afford it.

It seems that we’ve returned to flashy addresses as a signifier of the quality of legal services. The argument for this old fashioned approach is, of course, that “opulent physical spaces suggest success and prestige, which will result in more work from clients.” Said another way, “our marble encrusted tables and leather bound volumes will strike fear in the hearts of enemies and admiration from clients.”

And, yes, the above link takes you to a post by me from 2021, bragging about my WeWork office and how the then-new trends in lawyer office space and lower overhead were so wonderful. (Yes, I’m biased.)

Oh well. The Nashville legal market continues to evolve. But expensive offices, long term leases, and more time at your desk to pay for all that? No thanks.

A few weeks ago, a Nashville lawyer posted a picture on his LinkedIn page. He was visiting his big firm’s Miami office, taking all-day depositions. He posted a picture from the conference room, showing the view out the window.

In the picture, past the visible reflection of the rows of fluorescent lights, you could see people in the distance, having fun on the beach.

That “maximum indebtedness” line on your deed of trust only matters to the taxman, not the borrower.

By the time a loan gets referred to me for foreclosure–after we add interest (sometimes at a default rate), collection costs (attorney fees), and foreclosure expenses (somehow, newspaper publications have gotten more expensive)–the unpaid debt sometimes exceeds the original amount of the deed of trust.

This can create confusion, because my bank’s deed of trust will always include a line that says: “Maximum principal indebtedness for Tennessee recording tax purposes is $______.”

Are we capped at that “maximum” amount? Can we really enforce those other amounts? What if we have cross-collateralized debts that adds other accounts?

All good questions, since the text literally says “maximum indebtedness.” Deeds of trust are contracts, and words in contracts usually mean what they say.

Here, not so much.

This is specific language that is required on all Tennessee deeds of trust per Tenn. Code Ann. § 67-4-409(b)(6), and it exists only for computing taxes. As the statute explains, the statement “may be relied upon only by the department of revenue and by the receiving official charged with the duty of recordation and collection of tax, and such statement shall not constitute notice of any kind to any other party of the amount of indebtedness secured by the instrument.”

Tenn. Code Ann. § 67-4-409(b)(11)(A) doubles down on this interpretation, by expressly providing that “nonpayment or underpayment” of the tax “shall not affect or impair the effectiveness, validity, priority, of enforceability of the security interest or lien…”

This same reasoning applies, even when a bank is enforcing other debts pursuant to a cross-collateralization provision (meaning the deed of trust can also secure past, present, and other future debts). See Tenn. Code Ann. § 47-28-102. Your deed of trust with a $100,000 maximum for tax purposes can, conceivably, secure debts that are ten times that amount.

But, as a warning, be sure to look for text imposing a maximum debt limit text in the body of the deed of trust.

For example, if the deed of trust contains a specific cap that is embodied in the substantive text, it’s considered part of the agreement and will be enforced (something like a provision securing a note “or for any renewals, extensions, or additional advances not to exceed a total indebtedness of $65,000.00”). Those words mean what they say.

Just like my first grade teacher said, there are no dumb questions. Here, this one confuses lawyers and bankers all day long.