A two-time winner of Georgia Bar Journal’s annual fiction competition, lauded attorney and judge Lori B. Duff was fed up with novels detailing unrealistic courtrooms scenes with settings that misrepresented the South. So the acclaimed humor author pivoted from essays to fiction to pen “Devil’s Defense,” (Nov. 12, She Writes Press), a gripping courtroom drama full of personal discovery and the first in her Fischer at Law series. Duff is a true voice of authority: Her lengthy legal career in a small southern town (not unlike the novel’s setting) gave her the experience to produce thrilling, authentic legal drama and client interactions, which are based on her real-life experiences.
Below, Lori shares some insights into the importance of finding a passion for something other than your career to keep you grounded while you work, but also to give you a purpose after you retire.
Way back in the early nineties I began law school at Emory University. I was only twenty-one years old and intimidated by the idea. I had spent my whole life as an over-achiever, juggling academics with extra curriculars without dropping a ball. But law school? That was too much. I stopped writing, I stopped playing the flute. I needed to focus.
Naturally, I was miserable.
Sometime in the spring semester, I went to an Emory Orchestra concert. I wish I could tell you that I remembered what they were playing, but I can’t. I just remember sitting by myself, anonymously in the middle of the audience and unable to stop the tears. I wanted to run up on the stage and take my place in the middle row. The artistic part of myself rose from the dead and demanded attention.
The next year, I auditioned for and got into the Emory Orchestra. Rather than take away from my ability to perform in law school, my grades improved. I made friends. I was…happy. Having a life outside of the confines of law school made me a better law student. And a better person. So many of my schoolmates had nothing to talk about but school. Yawn. All work and no play definitely makes Jack, Esq. a dull boy.
I learned my lesson. I stayed in the Emory Orchestra up until my son was born—he was actually born during the dress rehearsal of what was supposed to be my last concert. I kept writing. I took drawing, painting, and pottery classes. I read over a hundred recreational books a year.
Now, over thirty years later, am I the richest lawyer in the world? Nope. Not by a long shot. Am I the happiest lawyer in the world? Also no, but I’m at least competitive on that terrain. I have a long-term marriage, two children that I talk to every day despite the fact that they’re in their twenties and live hundreds of miles away from me, and a novel, ‘Devil’s Defense’, under my belt. When people find out what I do for a living, they often say, “But you smile too much to be a lawyer.” I take it as a compliment.
I think it makes me a better service professional. Just as reading fiction helps you get into the heads of people who aren’t necessarily like you and allows you to become more empathetic (See: Does reading fiction make us better people? (bbc.com) ) exposing yourself to different situations and people with different educational and cultural backgrounds with varying interests can do the same. The more I can understand where my clients are coming from and why, the better I job I can do for them.
Lawyers have a very high suicide rate. (See: Why Are Lawyers at Greater Risk of Suicide? | Psychology Today). I’m not a psychologist, so the best I can do is give you anecdotal evidence and reasoning, but this doesn’t surprise me. Lawyers are, as a group, miserable people. And why wouldn’t we be? We only see people at their worst. Very few people think, “I’m having a fantastic day. Everything is going perfectly. I think I’ll call my lawyer!” No, people call us when things go dismally wrong. And then we go and wage war. We start arguments for a living, often very public and embarrassing ones.
We can do good—we stand up for justice, we help people navigate grief in many different forms, and we can win or lose fortunes for people. But if the old saw is true—you can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs—we are the egg-breakers-in-chief. And being around that much destruction can be, well, destructive.
If I hadn’t had these creative outlets, I would have burned out in a spectacular flame of glory a long time ago. Now, in year thirty-one of my legal career, I’m getting tired of practicing law, but only because I would be tired of anything after that many years.
I was talking to a lawyer friend the other day and he had a theory that if you practiced law for more than forty years it was either because you were a poor financial planner or you had no life. As harsh as that sounds, I think he’s right. I told him I was on year thirty-one, and he looked very concerned: “Don’t make it to forty.”
I told him I wouldn’t. My plan is to make it to thirty-three, which is when my youngest child graduates from college and theoretically both children will be off my payroll. I’ve talked it over with a financial planner, and it can happen.
And because I’ve kept on doing the things I love throughout my career, I’m not afraid at all. Having hobbies and a life outside of my job have made me a well-rounded person. I’m not the only person to make this connection. The good folks at Harvard did a study. (See: Having a hobby tied to happiness and well-being – Harvard Health.) I’m an old dog, and learning new tricks is hard. But because I’ve been practicing tricks all along, it’s not frighteningly new. I won’t so much be retiring as transitioning into a more creative life.
To add yet another series of clichés into the mix, luck favors the prepared. I have creative opportunities now because I’ve been sure to insert myself into creative endeavors even when I didn’t have time to do much. Part of being at the right place at the right time is knowing where the right place is, which you can only know if the right people tell you. The right people will only tell you if you enter their world. They’re not coming to you.
Do I regret going to law school? Some days, but not usually. It’s been an interesting ride and it’s allowed me to get to know some amazing people. And it’s given me something to say. Keeping my creative life going at the same time has given me the means to say it.
Lori B. Duff is a two-time winner of the Georgia Bar Journal’s fiction competition and a popular humor blogger. Her humorous essays have earned multiple awards, including the Foreword Indies Gold Medal for Humor, as well as first place in the National Society for Newspaper Columnists annual contest in the humor category. In addition to her writing, Duff is a graduate of Duke University and the Emory University School of Law. She serves as the Managing Partner of Jones & Duff, LLC, and is also a municipal court judge. Duff has been president of the Georgia Council of Municipal Court Judges and the National Society of Newspaper Columnists and has served in various leadership roles in those and other legal and writing organizations. Learn more at her website loriduffwrites.com. You can follow Lori on Facebook: @loribduffauthor | Threads: @loriduffwrites | Instagram: @loriduffwrites | Twitter: @loribduff.
ABOUT THE BOOK: Jessica Fischer knew that in the town of Ashton, Georgia, the order of worship was first Jesus, second America, and third the high school football coach, with the second two interchangeable if it were a winning season. It was often a winning season. Jessica wants nothing more than to break into the male-dominated legal scene and build her law practice in small-town Georgia. And she’s well on her way when the local town hero and football coach, Frank “Tripp” Wishingham III, hires her to represent him in a paternity suit. The coach is everything Fischer despises: arrogant, sexist and entitled. But it’s her job to make him look good in public, which is made doubly difficult when her burgeoning relationship with a local reporter gets in the way of telling the truth. Are things as black and white as Jessica thinks? And can she find a way to succeed without compromising her own personal values or her personal life?
