10 Commandments of Writing for New Lawyers

For the last several years, every class of summer associates in DLA Piper’s Northern California offices has received from me a document bearing the pretentious title featured above this paragraph. The document contains 10 pieces of advice derived from my occasionally frustrating experience writing as a junior lawyer in a big firm. As I’ve advanced in seniority, I have refined the points here and there. But their thrust has remained the same. In the hope that others might find them useful (and refine them further), I am sharing that advice publicly for the first time below, along with three quotations I try always to keep in mind in my development as a writer. They have helped preserve my sanity in what is truly a challenging but stimulating writing position. I hope they may do the same for you (or, dare I say, for those laboring under your supervision).

P.S. Please forgive the obvious bias toward litigation. I have come by it honestly. But I hope these points are useful even to those who hope never to see the inside of a courtroom outside of their television screens.

“Good legal writing should not differ (without good reason) from ordinary well-written English.” ~ Richard Wydick, author of Plain English for Lawyers

“Perfect grammar—persistent, continuous, sustained—is the fourth dimension, so to speak: many have sought it, but none has found it.” ~ Mark Twain

“I made this [letter] longer only because I have not had the leisure to make it shorter.” ~ Blaise Pascal

1.     Know your audience. Lawyering involves a lot of writing, so loving to write is an advantage. But those of us who love to write sometimes forget that, as lawyers, we aren’t writing primarily for ourselves. Your audience may be a partner, a client, a regulator, or a judge. Each type of reader will have different interests and tendencies. Always be clear on who your audience is, what you want from your audience, and how best to achieve that aim. Never assume you can transpose your own characteristics onto your audience. Implementing this advice requires thoughtfulness, empathy, and respect for your audience, whoever it may be.

2.     Understand why you are writing. If you don’t know the purpose of any given writing assignment or what effect it should elicit from the reader, you should not be writing yet. You should instead be asking more questions. As a lawyer, you will likely be asked to create work product unlike anything you’ve written—or even seen—before. Not knowing how your work product will be used leads to wasted time and money. To avoid doubt, ask up front about your goal, and then aim every letter and word at achieving that outcome.

3.     Be clear. Read and simplify, read and simplify. Try reading what you say aloud. If it sounds “off,” it will read “off.” And always ask yourself whether you have written something that only lawyers say or write (other than, of course, actual legal terminology). If you have, it’s a good indication you’ve done it wrong. Also, don’t get in the habit of deploying 50-cent words just because you know them. If a judge has to reach for a dictionary while reading your brief, you have detracted from your mission of persuasion. In fact, this can be thought of as a particular species of the next commandment.

4.     Avoid gimmicks. This is tough advice. The best, most persuasive writing is colorful and engaging. Writers understandably seek to emulate such writing, which often relies on punchy turns of phrase, vibrant metaphors, and sharp wit. These tools are invaluable to the advanced writer. But not every tool works for every job. To be credible (as you must), use your rhetorical flourishes sparingly and only where appropriate. Writing concisely is more valuable—and more difficult—than snappy putdowns or displays of your literary depth. Write to the point; embellish later.

5.     Develop your own voice, even if you can’t use it much now. Because junior lawyers most often ghostwrite work for more senior lawyers, learning and deploying those senior lawyers’ voices is essential. That can make finding your own voice difficult. Nevertheless, don’t stop trying to find and hone your own writing voice. Develop a mode of writing that reflects your own values and that incorporates the best lessons of those who have gone before you, while realizing that even the most seasoned lawyers (perhaps especially those) have quirks you should take with a grain of salt—except, of course, when you are writing for them.

6.     Don’t be afraid to suggest changes. Having your own voice and learning your craft have only prospective value unless you bring your intellect to bear in trying to improve your team’s written work product. We didn’t hire you to take dictation, so don’t be slavishly devoted to what’s on the page just because someone senior has written it. If you think something is wrong, bring it up. If the suggestion is rejected, accept that rejection graciously and remember it for next time you work with that senior lawyer. For instance, if a partner rejects your revision of “different than” to “different from,” remember that the partner has this quirk and, while continuing to suggest improvements in the future, keep that one to yourself. (For the record, your hypothetical revision would be correct. Being correct is only one part of our role.)

7.     Have an articulable reason for any change. You should propose corrections. But if you can’t cite a reason for the change, think twice about suggesting it. If you see something in your partner’s writing that suggests a rule, and you understand the rule differently, check it (with good authority) before you propose a revision. In short, don’t treat your intuition about a principle of writing differently from how you would treat your intuition about a principle of law. Be especially wary when your intuition is guided by your sense of what “sounds better” (or euphony). Remember that editing is sensitive work. We are all grownups, and we should expect our seniors to be receptive to our input. But no principal likes to have her whims pushed aside for someone else’s.

8.     Do no harm. Borrowed from the Hippocratic Oath, this advice is a variation of Rule 7, but its importance warrants a separate entry. “Correcting” someone’s writing without a meaningful reason is bad enough. If you nevertheless find your sense of style so affronted that you must revise simply for euphony or the ever-elusive “flow,” do not be wrong. Verify, verify, verify. Erroneous editing not only annoys your victim but also erodes your own credibility. Supervisors will quickly (perhaps too quickly) assume you lack both judgment and rigor. The appearance that you possess these traits is as important as your actually possessing them. Damage that appearance at your peril.

9.     Become familiar with all your tools. You have probably been using a word processor for a long time. But most people who use word-processing software use only a fraction of the features. Many of the unused features are all but essential. For instance, most users don’t know that whitespace characters exist, let alone keep them visible when they write. (If you’re wondering just what the heck this means, open Word and turn on the feature identified with this symbol: ?.) But these characters make up a significant portion of your work product, and all formatting is reflected in whitespace. Ever have your formatting glitch in the most unexplainable and frustrating fashion? Knowing your tools would likely have solved it.

10. Always seek to improve. Maybe you are already great writers. It doesn’t matter. No one is perfect, and the best writers are never done honing their craft. Whether you avoid dangling participles, split infinitives, and terminal prepositions is probably less important than whether you know what dangling participles, split infinitives, and terminal prepositions are. So read about your craft and actively seek to learn more about it.