Born This Way

One day as I strolled along the sidewalk toward the San Bernardino Family Law Court, I saw the scene above. Evidently someone has vanished, leaving only their shoes atop what looks like an electrical gizmo.

I feel like this a lot in my life as a lawyer. I feel like I could disappear any minute.

I wasn’t born to be a lawyer. At least I don’t feel I was. When I was young, I loved to sing, to write, to act in plays, to chase girls. Okay, maybe the girl chasing was mostly in my mind. Anyway, if you had asked me what I wanted to be without fetters, I would have told you that I wanted to write for a living. Construct books people loved to read. Write essays that would make the newspapers burn. Write plays that brought audiences to their feet.

Okay, but what do you think you’ll actually end up doing?

Oh, I’ll probably go to law school, I would say. It’s the next best thing. I get to write motions. I get to perform in court. I get to give stirring final arguments that would move a jury to giving my client a break.

As the now-little known singer David Wilcox once sang in Hurricane, you can settle for second best but it’s hard to get enough.

Without question, I am living my second best life. I became a lawyer because I seem to have an aptitude for it. I have won some remarkable cases. I’ve also lost my share. I’ve helped a lot of people that, without my very low fees, would never have been able to afford a lawyer. (Most recently I helped a woman who was similarly named to my character Minerva James win a family law case in San Bernardino).

But the problem I have every morning is getting out of bed to go be a lawyer. I really, really want to end my second best life and do what I think I was born to do: Write books.

Over this weekend, I took a big step. As part of the California Crimewriters Conference put on by Sisters in Crime and the Southern California branch of the Mystery Writers of America, I bought some time with a professional mystery novel editor who works for a real publisher. I’m not going to divulge her name, as she deserves her privacy. But I will say that her comments on the opening 5 pages of Minerva James and the God of War were very encouraging. I immediately made the changes she recommended and drafted (in handwriting) my query letter to agents.

Mind you, I’m not practicing my autograph for book signings yet. All too often in this life I’ve been the recipient of great news about my writing, only to have life intrude and pull me back into my second-best life. Like this morning, Monday, I have about 18 things on my practice “to do” list before I can think about spending “work” time writing.

(When I first returned to San Bernardino in 2018 after winning the Nero Wolfe Society’s Black Orchid Novella Award, the thought was that I would work on the practice in the morning (when most court hearings are held) and write in the afternoon.

More the fool I. A law practice is a ravenous beast that devours time like a dog inhales his Alpo. My writing is now relegated to the evenings after I watch the Rachel Maddow Show. On the West Coast that means seven O’Clock (or eight, if I stick around to watch Laurence O’Donnell’s The Last Word).

(And I realize that if any of my fans are Fox News watchers, they have just sworn off me and my damned liberal characters. Oh well. Been nice knowin’ ya.)

Of course, being a lawyer is not all bad. I make decent money (though not what my friends make because I purposely keep my fees low so people who really need a lawyer can afford one). The life of a lawyer is constantly interesting. And it gives me fodder for my stories. It’s not coincidence that Minerva James is a lawyer.

I don’t know what the Universe or God or whoever is steering my ship wants me to be. (I have a hard time believing that I can keep God entertained, as I am such a dull man.) I do know that I have continued to write and struggle and submit and otherwise act like I am a writer as well as a lawyer. Every so often a magazine or anthology will accept one of my stories and validate my hope. More often, there are rejections.

Yet I keep at it. I may not make a living as a writer, but I definitely think of myself as a writer who practices law, rather than a lawyer with a writing hobby. I was born this way. Just as Lady Gaga sang.