My Shingle

Late Nights With Maury [Maurice Sendak]

Carolyn Elefant — Tue, 08 May 2012 16:11:19 +0000

Today’s NYT Obituary pays tribute to Maurice Sendak as the children’s author who “wrenched the picture book out of the safe, sanitized world of the nursery and plunged it into the dark, terrifying and hauntingly beautiful recesses of the human psyche.” Maybe so from a critical perspective, but not for those of us who listened to Sendak’s books as kids and grew into the parents who passed them on to our own. For those of my generation, Sendak’s books evoke memories of feeling safe and secure, snuggled close to a parent at bedtime and remind us of the unbreakable power that hard-copy paper books– with their folded corners and stains and tears and imperfections have to captivate us as kids and make us ache with nostalgia as grownups.

As a goody-goody six-year old who’d just about outgrown picture books, the fantastical shenanigans of In the Night Kitchen mesmerized and captivated me. My dad was always designated reader, and my favorite time of day was when he’d settle down on the edge of the bed (for my self-imposed 7 pm bedtime) with my next younger sister and me and read the library copy of Night Kitchen, or our own volumes of Grimms’ Fairy Tales or Little Orphan Annie or Robert Louis Stevenson poems, each of us snuggled up against him on either side.

Years later, while pulling all nighters to get a brief in on time, Mickey’s journey through the crazy night and until dawn would always replay in my mind. When my first daughter was born, I celebrated an excuse to purchase the Sendak Nutshell Library mini-volumes (without looking like some kind of a child-book section stalker). In the bedroom rocking chair with Elana and then Mira, I read or sang A Alligators All Around or Chicken Soup with Rice over and over and over again until they fell asleep in my arms.

I’m sure that In The Night Kitchen renders beautifully on the Ipad and that Where the Wild Things Are was a terrific movie. But still, I miss the smoothness of the pages, the softness of my dad’s worn plaid shirts against my cheek and the sense of accomplishment that I’d feel when with a soft thud, I finally closed the book on those days when all I’d done was nurse a baby, spent the afternoon at the park and gotten one, then two little girls off to sleep. RIP Maurice Sendak and thanks for the memories.

How Online Bytes Enhance Offline Bonds

Carolyn Elefant — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 17:30:06 +0000

Last week, my older daughter attended her first Sweet Sixteen while my younger one prepared to audition for the school play. Our house was abuzz with giggles and shrieks of excitement and supportive encouragement as my older daughter tried on dresses for her friends and plotted about gifts and gossiped, while my younger one sang strands of Taylor Swift and Adele, with input from her buddies on pitch and cadence and which role would be her best shot. Yet even as I inhaled the kind of frenetic, giddy, pure girl (for want of a better word – but if you’re a girl, you will get it!) atmosphere that I’d hoped for when my daughters were born, I also marveled. Because it was taking place entirely online.

Like any one else over 40, I too bemoan the superficiality of the Facebook generation, believing that hundreds of “frends” and scintillating conversation like “Wassup? Idk?” could never replace the intimacy of secrets shared or mischief plotted with a bosom friend and kindred spirit (you know what I mean if you’re an Ann of Green Gable fan!). But in doing so, I’ve also failed to recognize that the same technology that narrows our kids’ world to the dimensions of a computer screen also expands it; opening doors to those bosom buddies they may never have otherwise met and helping sustain contact with those they have.

That Sweet Sixteen that my daughter attended was up in New York – for a friend who she’d met at a summer program and video chats with nearly every day. They talked and exchanged pictures over winter break while we vacationed in California and her friend in Africa, they’ve chatted about who knows what, and even experienced the East Coast earthquake together, since they were Skyping while it took place.

By contrast, my younger daughter’s friends are in the area, but not all within walking or biking distance. Pre-video chat, practicing for try outs together would have lengthy coordination between three families. already juggling activities and chores and work on jam-packed weekends. But with video-chat and Skype, my daughter and her friends can pick up and interact in the same ad hoc way that kids of generations past would drop by the neighbors to see if a buddy could come out to play, or join a pick up game of kick ball or tag on the street.

Someday, my daughters and their friends will enter the work force and these habits, will change it. Perhaps they’ll work at a location of their choosing with Skype (or whatever video app is in vogue at the time) and chat with co-workers across the country and globe. Perhaps they’ll meet with their lawyers that way as well.

My daughters are hardly recluses – much as they enjoy video-chat, my older daughter would not have missed seeing her buddies from the summer in person, while my younger daughter relishes her lunch hour at school where she shares a table with ten other friends. Skype and video-chat aren’t necessarily a substitute for a relationship, but an enhancer; filling in the blanks when we — as friends or parents or lawyers — can’t always be around face to face. And sometimes, if you are as fortunate as I’ve been, the connections that you make on line can transform into productive work relationships and lasting friendships that would never have otherwise happened.

Built This Way

Carolyn Elefant — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 17:51:43 +0000

This morning, I made lasagna for dinner, as my two furry companions waited eagerly to lick the bowl. Due to my involvement in an extensive regulatory proceeding, once again this week, I won’t be home until 8 p.m. and since my husband has a meeting, he’ll be back even later. My daughters are now 12 and 15; they’re old enough to walk home and cook dinner and responsible enough to start their homework if not first thing, then at least by seven. Still, I want to make sure that they can enjoy at least some evidence of parental involvement on a night when both parents are absent.

Even though my daughters are nearly grown, I still want to be around, simply present even if not fully engaged. I often wish that I wasn’t built this way. That I could travel out of town for weeks at a time or come home every night after dark with 12 hours of billable time under my belt. That I could turn myself into a money machine and take my daughters on lavish trips or move to a fancier house instead of trying to cram my law practice and my blogs and books and other stuff that I do into the margins.

When I’m on break at the hearings, I eavesdrop on other parents – mostly men, mostly from big or mid-sized law – chatting about their kids, the Halloween that they’ll miss, the antics that they never see, the fake-complaints about “this will keep me up till 11 pm” (to which I think, why not try getting by on 4 hours of sleep, like I do but would never admit). These are choices that they make, just as I make mine. None are ever perfect, are they?

Why I’m Glad I Never Counted

Carolyn Elefant — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 12:58:32 +0000

As a parent, I’ve made so many mistakes that it’s difficult to keep track. I over-promised and under-delivered, sent school forms in late and never, ever did the school trip thing, let alone cook organic meals, assemble two dozen spiders out of oreos and pretzels or organize playgroups like the moms profiled in Good Enough Is the New Perfect (no wonder they’re so stressed out – I never even realized quite how imperfect I was until I read that book). Heck, if my daughters were my clients, they’d have fired me long ago.

But one thing that I did right — and never realized til now — is that I never counted. I never counted the number of diapers I changed in a day or how many books we read together at bedtime or how many videos I let my daughters watch during long car trips or long conference calls. I never counted how many nights I stumbled groggily into their room to nurse them at night, or how many minutes I spent rocking them before they fell asleep or how many more years until I was no longer hostage to a 4 pm bus stop pick up. I never counted the time towards when I’d have more because I knew that eventually, instead of counting up, I’d be counting down. Counting down towards the day where my daughters no longer want to share with me everything that they did in school, or where their friends’ opinion matters more than mine or where their problems exceed my capacity to help solve them. Or where they leave home first for college and then for good.

Each last week in August flies by as I’m caught up in the flurry of traditions that accompany my daughters’ first day of school. The school-supply shopping. The new outfit and haircut. The first-day-of-school photo (depicted here) that they still begrudgingly indulge me, before they hop on the bike (older) or bus (younger), eager to get to school for the new year and the fresh start that lays bright and shiny before them. And each year, after they’re gone, though I’m anxious to get to my desk and resume work uninterrupted, I always linger a little longer — watching first, the nervous pre-schooler or the giddy kindergartner and now, the seventh grader on the yellow school bus and the sophomore on the bicycle race away. Because one of these days they won’t be coming back. I just never counted on it being so soon.

Social Media: Best Mother’s Day Gift for Lawyer Moms

Carolyn Elefant — Sun, 08 May 2011 09:25:10 +0000

So, social media for lawyers has been experiencing a bit of a backlash lately. Some of it, deservedly so — and that’s from someone who’s co-authored a book on the subject. By now, many lawyers are not only recognizing, but beginning to agree that despite the hype from self-professed experts social media doesn’t make lawyers richer or smarter or more authentic. Nor will it change what really matters about being a lawyer. Yet even though all of this is true, I can’t help but gush about the value of social media in honor of Mother’s Day. Because only did social media keep me in the game when I was barely hanging on, scrambling to work while staying home with my daughters, but it launched me on a trajectory that would never have otherwise been possible. [warning - the next few paragraphs are kind of me-centric so if that doesn't appeal, maybe you ought to skip to the very end]
It started with blogging. When I launched MyShingle in December 2002 (after six months of development and planning), my daughters had just turned three and six. At the time, I’d been working part-time with ad hoc help from my husband and parents. In my practice area which then relied heavily on meet-and-greet (still does), my part time status was nearly a death-knell – and I was hanging on by a thread. But blogging at MyShingle helped turn that around – or at least pushed me to an alternative path as a commentator on solo practice – and a paid blogger at a mainstream legal publication.

But in our uniquely flat world, the MyShingle experience – though it has nothing to do with energy regulatory work – benefited my law practice. After learning the ropes of blogging at MyShingle, I started the Renewables Offshore Blog, which covered legal developments in the then- nascent offshore wind and ocean energy field. At the time, marine renewables still weren’t ready for prime time and were vastly underfunded – so I was really the only lawyer in the US optimistic enough – or desperate enough – to work on these issues. With time away from my practice, I could have lost my edge, but Renewables Offshore kept me in the game, providing visibility that lead to speaking engagements at prominent industry conferences. Equally fortuitously, the fact that I actually knew how to set up a blog was what enabled theOcean Renewable Energy Coalition , a trade association that I co-founded on a lark with a colleague who I met at a conference, to get off the ground. We wanted to start the group quickly and my ability to create a web presence (as well as put together the paperwork to incorporate and create a 501(c)(6)) as well as my regulatory knowledge helped us get started. Six years later, we have sixty members – and I’ve had the chance to draft legislation, comment on and propose rules, work with lobbyists… and even speak at UNESCO.

Blogging also mitigated the isolation that I felt while I spent so much time at home by introducing me to other lawyers-bloggers – including my colleague and eventual Social Media for Lawyers co-author and friend, Niki Black. Yes, it may be touchy feely – but when everyone around you is either a happy stay-at-home mom, or working 80 hour weeks at a law firm, finding opportunities to exchange ideas and interact collegially with other lawyers can make a big difference in one’s psyche.

My interest in social media flowed naturally from blogging about solo issues because other forms of social media — LinkedIn and Facebook and Twitter — seemed like a promising and inexpensive way for solos to share knowledge and build relationships with clients and each other. I wrote an ebook on Social Networking for Lawyers in 2008, which helped lay the ground for the ABA book.

Flash forward to 2011. Today, my daughters are 11 and 14. My stress filled days of racing to the bus stop by 4 pm for pick up — days which at the time seemed so harrowing and endless — are behind me. My daughters can walk home from the bus on their own, cook dinner for themselves and stay home alone until fairly late at night – which means that I can attend conferences and networking functions without having to scramble for coverage. I don’t do it all the time because I still want to be around for my girls – but I have the option available at least a couple of days a week and it’s made a world of a difference.

In three years, my older daughter will leave for college. In six years, they’ll both be gone. At the end of this month, I turn 47. If I had to start all over now – as the generation that came before, I’d be lucky to reach the stage that I’m at now by the time I’d turn 60. Or maybe not at all because the legal profession and the world has changed so rapidly over the past decade that I may never have caught up. And as much as I love my daughters and wanted children desperately and at the time, was ready to (and partly did) toss my career to devote myself to them, I think that I might have some regrets (both personal and financial – in terms of being able to pay for college) if I’d have lost my livelihood as a lawyer.

Fortunately, because of social media, I never had to find out. Today, I have a fairly well respected and eclectic little energy practice in a field dominated by big firms with big money – and a popular blog and books to boot. To be clear – social media alone didn’t get me to this place – I work damn hard. But social media opened the doors — of that I’m certain. Without it, all of my effort, all of my work wouldn’t have mattered because I wouldn’t have been able to get it in front of people’s faces, particularly with the constraints that I faced working part-time. Moreover, social media gave me an opportunity to create a portfolio of work when I didn’t have a lot going on in my practice – so that I had something worth showing to potential referral sources. (a point that, interestingly, is referenced by Michael Arrington at Tech Crunch; he argues that it’s so easy to create an app or a neato website, that tech companies will soon be asking interviewees to show what they’ve done instead of just code hypothetical problems. Same may be true in law too).

On every other day, you’ll find me nodding in agreement with the legitimate criticisms of social media, cringing at some of the unethical practices and enjoying a chuckle — even at my expense — at the often hilarious and frenetic snide comments about the darker side of social media. But today, for Mother’s Day, I’m unabashedly celebrating the awesome power of a social media – not only salvaging my career but advancing it during those long years when I sat out on the sidelines. And I’m looking forward to the ways that social media will help generations of lawyer moms to come.

Happy Mother’s Day to all!

Why Should Your Clients Care That Their Lawyers Don’t Work Weekends?

Carolyn Elefant — Sat, 09 Oct 2010 17:27:33 +0000

There’s a small law firm in South Carolina with a Client Expectations policy that’s made a big splash online. The policy, which bluntly states, “We do not work weekends and do not provide emergency numbers for weekends….We make mistakes…” attracted notice from the ABA Journal and generated discussion at several blogs, including Jim Calloway’s Practice Management Blog, Dan Pinnington’s Avoid a Claim and Scott Greenfield’s Simple Justice. Both Jim and Dan compliment the firm for taking steps to manage client expectations, but suggest that perhaps the firm was a bit too blunt. Scott is even more critical. He suggests that rather than essentially tell clients to “pay up and leave us alone,” the firm might instead try to educate clients on what constitutes an emergency because real emergencies do come up – even on weekends- and lawyers need to “suck it up.”

Here’s my view. First, the latter portions of the Client Expectations are laudable. These sections explain to clients how long a case will take and what portions of the case are going to be more expensive, the realities of opposing parties being able to get information through subpoena, the need to behave “as if you’re being filmed by an investigator” at all ties offer important advice (though the site should be updated to include cautions about clients’ use of social media while a divorce proceeding is ongoing). Thus, any clients expecting to retain this firm for a quick, cheap divorce get a solid dose of reality up front, which is important. Unfortunately, this sage advice is buried at the tail end of one of the most self-serving pieces of web copy that I’ve ever seen.

The first section of the Client Expectations section isn’t about clients, it’s all about the lawyers, all about we. The firm proclaims: We don’t work weekends, we make mistakes but don’t yell at us or insult us for making them, we take calls in the order they come according to the priority we assign, we are the only reliable source of information on your case – (but you’ll need to pay to get an update).

If I’m a client, why should I care that my lawyers don’t work weekends? Frankly, clients don’t want to see the sausage being made – that is, they don’t want to know about when or how the work gets done, so long as it does. So if there’s a major trial starting Monday morning, a client doesn’t want a lawyer to stop the clock because she’s not working that day, nor does the client want to hear how the lawyer slaved all weekend. The client wants the lawyer to show up prepared, end of story.

Moreover, avoiding weekend work – and then bragging about it – is potentially fatal to a family law practice. There, many custody disputes or crises can arise over the weekend such as one parent picking up the kids and failing to return them at the agreed upon time, or an abusive ex-husband showing up drunk at his ex-wife’s home on a Saturday night in violation of a protective order. Sometimes, a quick call to one’s lawyer can dissipate a situation that might otherwise explode or give a client a little peace of mind. If my pediatricians had told me that they weren’t available for calls on the weekend, I’d have chosen another practice.

Although the “we don’t work weekends” aspect of the website has drawn the most discussion, I found other parts of the site off-putting as well. As I mentioned earlier, the firm candidly (and to its credit) admits that we make mistakes and will correct mistakes brought to the firm’s attention. But the firm assure clients that it will discount the bill in those instances where it bears responsibility for the errors. Likewise, the firm says that we’re the only source of reliable information about the status of the case, but then directs clients to call paralegals for updates, noting that paralegals are billed at 50 percent less than lawyers. While I can understand a lawyer billing to provide a status report (I don’t do it personally), I’d assume that when a client speaks to a paralegal for a status update, it constitutes an administrative charge that’s rolled into overhead, not billed separately even at a discounted fee. Paying for a status update provided by staff is analogous to paying for sugar packets or napkins at a fast food restaurant: it’s the kind of bonus that ought to be included without charge.

As the conversation over this firm’s website bear out, there are two types of client expectations. The first category relates to matters beyond our control as lawyers: the speed of the docket, the sufficiency of the opposing party’s filing, and the likelihood of success. Managing these expectations is critical or else a client will impose unrealistic demands or feel disappointed at the end of the case. For example, if a lawyer assures a client that the court will rule on a motion in a month and six months pass without decision, the client’s going to blame the lawyer for the delay.

But the second set of expectations relate to what a client can reasonably expect from a lawyer: promptly returned phone calls, respectful treatment, dedication, diligence, honesty and integrity and overall excellence. In contrast to external matters like court schedules, how we serve our clients is a matter over which we have absolute control and as such, is not the type of expectation that ought to be managed or diminished. Rather, as lawyers, we must — and indeed, are obligated to — manage to live up to our clients’ expectations of us as their lawyers, every day of our practice. And if that means working weekends, then we need to manage to do that too.

Update: Didn’t see this before I went to press, but Susan Cartier Liebel of Solo Practice University, who also found the firm’s site off-putting, offers a quick re-write. The revised copy addresses Lee Rosen’s point (comment section) about the need for family law firms in particular to bill clients for status reports. Susan asks: “Would you put this kind of manifesto on your website?” Personally, I wouldn’t (and indeed, arguably, in New York, I wouldn’t at least without posting the more client-friendly Client Bill of Rights. Then again, I don’t have a volume practice or one where clients are especially needy, so it’s not important for me to engage in as much self-selection at the outset, so my experience is not necessarily typical.

But putting myself in the clients’ shoes, I’d be turned off by any provider who had this kind of language on the website. I certainly wouldn’t object if this information were included in a retainer letter or Law Offices Policies kit, where the lawyer explained the need for these policies and where I’d already had a chance to meet the lawyer in person (or interact by phone). However, if any provider – doctor, lawyer or contract attorney – stated those policies up front on the website, even phrased as personably and delicately as Susan suggests, I’d feel as if they were trying to “handle me” like a piece of cattle, rather than serve me like a valued customer.

When You’re the Boss, You Don’t Beg For Work Life Balance. You Make It So.

Carolyn Elefant — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 23:27:13 +0000

Like every parent on the planet, I’ve told my daughters more times than I can remember some variation of the following:

Yes, you can eat chocolate for dinner or stay up until three am or leave orange peels on the floor or [fill in the blank] when you have your own place and pay your own bills. But so long as you’re living in this house under my roof, I make the rules.

It’s surprising, then how quickly we parents who practice forget our own advice. We take a job at a law firm, and suddenly find ourselves resentful that the boss wants us to work 60 hours a week or finish a project for a client over the weekend. And so, like my daughters (and most kids, I imagine) we grouse or complain or beg for exceptions instead of growing up and creating a job where we can be the boss and make our own rules.

I was reminded of the benefits of being in charge after reading in the New York Times (2/12/10) about how President Obama gives priority to certain inviolable family events, like his daughters’ band recitals, sports games, parent-teacher conferences and family meals. From the article:

[Obama] knocks off work at 6 p.m. each evening to have dinner with his family, and has given his schedulers strict instructions that, if he must have night-time activities, they are to take place after 8 p.m. That includes matters of war; in November, as the commander in chief wrestled with sending more troops to Afghanistan, he called an 8 p.m. meeting of his national security team, in deference to his role as father in chief.

If the President of the United States can set aside national issues to make time for his kids, there’s no reason why you can’t set your own priorities as well. That is, if you’re willing to grow up and be the boss.

If you’re not in a position to leave your day job just yet, learn more about the part time practice option at my upcoming teleseminar this Thursday February 18, 2010 with Julie Tower-Pierce. Register here. I’m also speaking on the nuts and bolts of starting a practice at American University, Washington College of Law, on Tuesday February 16, 2010 at noon.

PartTime Shingle Ebook and Recording Ready for Release!

Carolyn Elefant — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 10:50:25 +0000

Julie Tower-Pierce and I are happy to announce that we’ve finally completed our 50 page ebook, The Part Time Shingle: Why Starting a Part Time Practice Can Be Done and How to Make It Work. Here’s some of the topics that the e-book covers:

-Is starting a part time shingle really feasible? [p. 2-3]

-Will people take me seriously if I’m only working part time? [p. 5-6]

-I’m working in a coffee shop to make ends meet as I get my practice off the ground. How do I handle this situation? [p. 6-7]

-I’m a contract lawyer buried in document review 10 hours a day. Is starting a part time practice workable for someone in my position? [p. 8]

-What practice areas work best for part time? [p. 9-11]

-Can I buy part time malpractice insurance? [p.13]

-Can I moonlight at my day job at a law firm while I work at my practice at night? [p.14-15]

-What are some time management ideas for running a practice while I raise kids or work at another job? [p.16-18]

-What are some low cost, time efficient ways to market my part time practice? [p. 19-22]

-What kinds of tech works best for part time? I’ll only have a part-time salary, so I don’t want to make a full time tech investment. [p. 23-25]

-I’m returning to the work force by starting a firm and my tech skills are out of date? Can I still make this work? [p.25]

-How much can I earn working part time? [p.26-27]

-Can I hire help even as a part timer working from home? [p. 29-31]

-At what point should I quit my day job and fly solo full time? [p.32]

In addition to these topics, you’ll find a Part Time Shingle Check List, Sample Schedule and 15 minute a day social media strategy.

In addition to the ebook, you can also purchase the 75 minute recorded teleseminar. The products are available at Pink Slips & Detours or by ordering directly below:

EBook Only ($22.95)
View Cart:

Recording Only ($22.95) Recording Codes: Add to Cart:

Bundled (both ebook & recording)($35.95)
Add to Cart: View Cart:

Don’t Settle for Second Place When Starting Your Law Firm

Carolyn Elefant — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 15:00:10 +0000

As I’ve written here previously, I’m an ardent admirer of Michelle Obama, particularly her ability to make the seamless life seem so easy. This upcoming book on the Obamas by Chris Anderson, which is intended to portray Mrs. Obama as an insolent, money-hungry shrew of a wife, makes me like her even more.

Anderson’s book describes that in the early years of her marriage, Mrs. Obama — who herself was working full time — had the audacity to demand that her husband, a rising political star in the Illinois state senate, assume his fair share of responsibility for house cleaning and child-rearing. Not only that, but Mrs. Obama stands accused of being overly materialistic: she derided her husband for staying in the state senate instead of taking a job at a major law firm where he could earn “real money” at a time when the couple had just had their first child and they were “poor as church mice.”

On the surface, it’s not unreasonable to criticize Mrs. Obama. After all, didn’t she act selfishly by trying to hold her husband back from a promising career just to accommodate her more ordinary one? As the partner in her marriage with less potential, shouldn’t Mrs. Obama have kept her mouth shut, stepped aside and subordinated her career to that of her husband?

Absolutely not. Irrespective of whose job carried more promise, both Obamas worked full time. As such, Mrs. Obama was justified in expecting her husband to carry out his fair share in house cleaning and child rearing. To demand any less would have required Mrs. Obama to accept second class status within her marriage and also in the eyes of her daughters.

So how do Michelle Obama’s demands for equality and respect within her marriage relate to starting a law firm? Well often, the partner in the marriage who starts a firm is expected, as Mrs. Obama was, to play second fiddle. To accept the lion’s share of child-rearing and grocery shopping. To take the day off when the kids are sick or on vacation. And to do it all while starting or running a law firm. Even now, on those days when my daughters have a day off from school and my husband needs to stay home so that I can work, my mom will ask “How is it that Bruce can take off from his job?” To which I respond, “Well, how is that I always manage to take time off from my job? How is Bruce’s situation any different?” Fortunately, my husband never bought into this line of thinking.

Of course, in many instances, one parent often decides to start a practice and accept an initial cut in pay to achieve more flexibility. In that situation, it’s fair for the parent with more flexibility to shoulder more of the child-rearing burden. But at the same time, accepting more responsibility because of a flexible work situation doesn’t mean accepting all responsibility. I’ve seen situations where lawyers who solo need more support from their spouse, but they don’t feel justified in asking either because (1) they don’t view their practice as a “real” job or (2) they feel guilty for failing to contribute financially to the family. Yet without support — which might take the form of a spouse coming home early to allow his wife to get to a networking event or or cutting back on eating lunches out to free up funds so she can afford a legal training class — a solo’s practice will inevitably flounder. And the ensuing failure only makes the solo feel guiltier for starting a firm and compromising the household’s financial security.

That’s where Michelle Obama inspires. Mrs. Obama had the guts to demand that her husband — a future President of the United States of America — start picking up his socks and doing his fair share of raising their daughters. Why should those of us who run our own practices demand any less from our partners?

What We’ll Be Discussing At the Part Time Practice Teleseminar

Carolyn Elefant — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 22:44:07 +0000

As my colleague Julie Tower Pierce and I prepare for our upcoming Part Time Shingle teleseminar August 27 (click link for details and to register), we’ve decided that we’ll cram in a few more topics in addition to those discussed in this description. These include responding to questions such as:

I’m working part time, but no one takes me seriously – they think that I’m just dabbling in the law. How do I respond?

I’m a contract lawyer working 50 hour weeks but I need my contract lawyer job to pay the bills. Is there anyway that I can make a part-time practice work in this situation?

I’m at a law firm and I’m not very busy. I’d like to take on some cases on the side on nights and weekends, but I don’t want to tell my employer. Can I do this?

During the day, when most of my colleagues are working I’m home, and they’re home evenings when I’m available for networking events. How can I meet other people who are on my schedule?

If you have any questions you’d like us to address (whether you plan on attending the conference call or not), please submit information below. If you’ve already registered, we’ll be emailing final information for the call and a course outline by Wednesday morning.