The 'Bloody Nipples' Of SmallLaw, Or What They Didn’t Tell Me

Why didn’t anyone tell you about the sleepless nights that sometimes go along with small-firm practice? Here's more information you should have before hanging a shingle.

Ten years ago this month I started running. People overuse the phrase “life-changing.” Is your life really going to follow a different trajectory because you visited Stonehenge? But I can honestly say running has added a facet to life that wasn’t there before. I could fill a book with running-related stories, but alas, eventually I need to make this column have something to do with SmallLaw.

Running has been great, just like being in SmallLaw. I’ve run the ragged edge of the Western World; done crazy things like leave my Biglaw job at midnight, laid in bed four hours, and then gotten up at 4 a.m. to run 20 miles so I could make it back into work at 8 a.m. (I was 15 minutes late and got in trouble for it); done even crazier things like run MacArthur Causeway in a driving hailstorm bad enough my iPod stopped working, with huge 18-wheelers whizzing by just a couple of feet away. I’ll never forget my first distance race, and how crossing the finish line brought such a feeling of sheer ecstasy I’ve been chasing that drug ever since.

But there’s bloody nipples. Nobody told me about the bloody nipples. (And yes, this was inspired by an Onion headline, but hey, if I were an original thinker, I probably wouldn’t be in a profession where you always start with a precedent.) I knew if I kept it up my toenails would start falling off, but that turned out not to hurt (when they finally come off, it actually feels good). The bloody nipples, on the other hand, were completely unexpected and hurt worse than getting a phone call from a partner just before stepping into Book of Mormon.

I emailed a former colleague of mine for some advice on a matter very early one morning a while back, and he said he was glad to see I was enjoying solo practice, with all the “freedom, entrepreneurship, and sleepless nights” that go with it. I thought, “Sleepless nights? It’s not just me?? Why didn’t anyone tell me about the sleepless nights?!?”

So, I will do you — Biglaw person thinking about opening a SmallLaw practice — a service by telling you a few of the “bloody nipples” of SmallLaw.

  • It’s not long before you’re busy, but it takes a while before you’re actually billing full days (or even half-days). You’ll tell people you’re busy and they’ll say, wow, that’s great, you must really be raking in the cash! Um, no, I’m spending my days networking, writing, pitching, and reading, and if I’m lucky, maybe landing a few clients and getting to bill a few hours in between all that.
  • No matter what, some people will always believe you’re in SmallLaw because you can’t get a job. Parents, for example.
  • Recruiters will still call, just wanting to “check in to see how your job search is going.” Even the ones who read your weekly column about being a solo attorney.
  • You still get only 24 hours in a day. I think this has something to do with the sleepless nights.
  • You’ll feel like a magnet for bad advice. It’s crazy the idiotic stuff people will tell you. They’ll want you to advertise on TV, or get into a completely different practice area like cyberlaw (sounds cool, but try to make a living at it when you’re a securities attorney). Or my personal favorite: “You know, instead of getting an office, you should just do your work in a coffee shop.” Okaaaay. I’m going to spend 10-12 hours every single day at Starbucks working on my practice? What do I do, bring along a portable printer and file cabinet?
  • Mailing a letter without a mailroom isn’t the massive undertaking some make it out to be (just always keep stamps in your drawer), but keeping up with your firm finances definitely is.
  • People will amaze you by being sweet as candy on the phone or in person — sometimes even handing you religious tracts, like happened to me last week — and then following up with belligerent emails. (Word to the wise: when someone is thinking about taking your case pro bono, try to hold off on the belligerent emails.)
  • Did I mention the sleepless nights?
  • You may start to view your friends and former colleagues who are still in Biglaw differently. (Not sure if this is a bad thing. It just happens.)
  • You’ll struggle not to roll your eyes when yet another person tells you they are “price-sensitive.”
  • You’ll constantly get emails from clients asking you a “quick question,” which translates as “here’s a quick question that doesn’t have a quick answer, but you shouldn’t bill me for it, because hey, it’s just a quick question!”
  • When something goes against your client — a court case, an arbitration, a business transaction — it hurts terribly. It feels a lot like this. It’s way worse as a solo than as an associate or junior partner.
  • Really now. What’s with all these sleepless nights??

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Gary J. Ross opened his own practice, Jackson Ross PLLC, in 2013 after several years in Biglaw and the federal government. Gary handles corporate and compliance matters for investment funds, small businesses, and non-profits, occasionally dabbling in litigation. You can reach Gary by email at Gary.Ross@JacksonRossLaw.com.

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