Writer's Block Cause #3

PERSUASION PANIC.

Legal writing is persuasive writing. The legal writer’s mission is to convince the court to take some action, such as to suppress evidence or to overturn the lower court. While attempting to persuade can be an exciting challenge, the stakes in litigation are often so high that the panic of failing to persuade far outweighs the thrill of the attempt. This is not like convincing your child to eat broccoli. This is convincing the court to take an action that could affect your client’s freedom or her life’s savings.

And with panic comes… writer’s block.

I have succeeded in managing “persuasion panic” by adhering to a simple rule: WRITE THE FACTS FIRST. Obviously subject to the duty of candor, your goal is to present the facts in such a way that the reader is left with a feeling in her gut that there is only one right result in this case, and that is the result you are seeking. Tell the reader a story and empower the reader to end the story the way you believe it should end. If the facts compel a conclusion, applying the facts to the law becomes a breeze. By that point, the law is merely icing on the cake.

When Adjectives Sour

I disagree that the word “whole,” when used to indicate “entire,” should be an adjective. It creates redundancy. “That project took me a whole week” is the same as, “That project took me a week.” A week is seven days until they tell me otherwise.

The use of the word “whole” to indicate “entire” took its most famous form in the song, “A Whole New World,” from the Disney film Alladin. While I admit, “A New World” lacks the same lyrical punch, the expression “a whole new” has been distorted—at least around my parts—to the stomach-turning expression, “a whole n’other.”

“A whole n’other” appears to be the result of a tongue twist between “a whole new” and “a whole other.”

Seems to me that if we had not accepted the word “whole” as an adjective to indicate “entire,” I would be spared the nausea associated with hearing, “a whole n’other.”

Now that I think of it, I suppose I have the same concerns about the redundancy created by the adjective “entire,” but that’s a whole n’other blog post.

Writer's Block Cause #2

PERFECTIONISM.

One would think the desire for perfect writing is a good thing. Unfortunately, it’s not, if it paralyzes you.

The paralysis goes something like this. I have an idea. I write a sentence. I stare at the sentence. I stare some more. I keep staring. Should I use a comma there? Should I vary the sentence structure? Should this be two sentences instead of one? Would “crimson” work better than “red?” Maybe “crimson” is too pretentious. Do most people know what “crimson” means? Let me Google it. Oh no. Seems some people think “crimson” is red with a touch of purple, while others think “crimson” is closer to orange. Maybe I should stick with “red.” And so on.

This pattern is unsustainable. It’s like a dam, blocking the creating juices from flowing. You can’t get to point B if you never let yourself get past point A. Not to mention - it’s physically exhausting.

So what’s the cure? Let it go. Just write. Keep writing. Write more. Turn off the spelling and grammar check on Word so the computer gremlins can’t highlight your errors as you move along. Don’t let yourself edit until you’ve made your point.

I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s the only way.

Writer's Block Chronicles

Having suffered far too many bouts of writer’s block, I decided it was time to examine its causes and chronicle some of the cures I’ve developed over the years. I can only speak to legal writing and to my own idiosyncrasies, but I hope this endeavor proves useful to others. Each new blog post will identify a cause and a cure.

Cause #1 - DEADLINE DREAD.

Legal writing is always on a deadline. By legal writing, I’m talking appellate briefs, summary judgment motions, motions to dismiss - all the good stuff that must impress.

I could have a million insightful arguments to make, backed by no less than two million favorable authorities, and something about a deadline instills fear and panic, which leads to the infamous writer’s block.

One would think the obvious cure is – cue mom’s nagging voice – “start early, don’t procrastinate, and you’ll make your deadline.”

If only.

Unfortunately, there’s an as yet untamed force in the universe that actually sets out to punish me for starting early. If this force could speak, here are some things it might say. “Starting early on that brief, are ya? Here’s a blizzard.” “Getting a leg up on that motion, kiddo? Too bad your alternator’s dead.” “Look at her, Miss-On-Top-Of-Things, getting it done. Better look in the basement. I hear a leaky pipe.”

So what’s a more efficacious approach? BABY STEPS. Set attainable goals in increments of time, which could be something like:

On Monday, I will read the transcript.
On Tuesday, I will outline my thoughts.
On Wednesday, I will begin the research….

I have found that with the baby step method, I stop worrying about whether I will complete the project on time. Even if the untamed force attempts to derail me, the goals I’ve set are so perfectly doable that a few hours of shoveling, a trip to the mechanic, or some quality time with the plumber won’t set me back.

This method works even with emergency motions, like the ones you need to file in the middle of trial. The baby steps might be:

At 1:00am, I will craft my argument.
At 2:00am, I will write the motion.
At 3:00am, I will stare into space wondering why I didn’t go to art school…. (Kidding.)

The baby step method also builds esteem, because at the completion of each step, I can relish in my accomplishment. And there’s nothing like esteem to fuel me to completion.

Homage to the Excel Spreadsheet

After more than 15 years of practice, I only just realized the value of using an Excel spreadsheet to organize discovery responses. You see, Excel spreadsheets have these nifty tabs allowing you to create multiple sheets, one after the other. You can designate each sheet to correspond to a particular source of discovery, such as "Joe Schmoe's Answers to Interrogatories," "Mary Jane's Answers to Interrogatories," and "Joe Schmoe's Deposition Answers." When complete, you have one document with all discovery responses at your fingertips, and you can easily move from sheet to sheet for quick comparisons.

Perhaps it's sad I find this exciting. Nonetheless... YIPPEE!

When the Right Word is Wrong

So, I'm reading a judicial opinion from another jurisdiction today and I stumble (literally) across the word "pretermit." First question I have is, how do I pronounce it? Pree-ter-mit? Pree-ter-mit? Pree-ter-mit? Next question I have is, what does it mean? Several seconds go by and I realize, several seconds have gone by and I haven't moved off the word. Now I ain't never been formally trained as no writer. I just picked it up in my schoolin.' But shouldn't we refrain from using words that halt the reader dead in her tracks? In fairness, pretermit does have a legal definition, when one pretermits, i.e., omits, a child from a will. Maybe I wouldn't have stumbled if the word was used in that context. Instead, it was used as follows: "Having reached a decision on the first issue that disposes of the case, we pretermit to consider defendant's other issues." Seems to me that "decline to consider" would work just as well, and be much gentler on the reader. But I digress, as I should really get back to reading the rest of the opinion.

Sweetheart

Here's a link to a heartwarming story about an abandoned greyhound who is being brought back to life by an incredible group of people: http://sweetheartsstory.blogspot.com/. This tale, as sad as it began, will restore your faith in humanity. Keep on getting healthy, Sweetheart!