I read with interest, a pair of posts by Philadelphia law blogger Jordan Rushie  and Scott Greenfield about the importance of in-person networking.  I don’t disagree with them. For better or for worse, Scott’s and Jordan’s way is how business still gets done in most of the legal profession. By starting at the low end of the totem pole in an organization, cheerfully taking on meaningless grunt work.  By sitting through boring meetings where people spend more time deciding whether a motion is required to pursue a particular action than to discuss the action itself.  By accepting as gospel the response to every suggestion, “but that’s how it’s always been done…”

Still, even though the world as described by Scott and Jordan and their adoring commenters is how things are today, I’m troubled.  Partly because I’m impatient and opinionated and don’t play well with others – and partly because as a parent, specifically a mom my time is limited. The former issue is curable (must be if Scott and Jordan and Brian Tannebaum have succeeded through personal networking – no offense, guys!) but the latter, not so much – especially for moms.

When I joined committees as a young lawyer, I found that because I’m a hard worker, I could circumvent the wall of conformity or leapfrog over several layers of bureaucracy by just taking charge of a project and completing it (since most folks never followed through – must be how it’s always been done). That worked fine, and I found myself advancing up the ranks. 

The greater problem came when my first daughter was born (after I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get pregnant.) Maybe it was hormones, but somehow, the thought of paying a nanny so that I could spend non-billable time locked in a room with a bunch of lawyers meandering through a meeting agenda was more than I could bear.  Turned out that one of the ways that motherhood changed me  is that it transformed me into an efficiency machine that could work on demand during naps or at 2 am to get the job done – and that ruthlessly and impersonally, without regret, could cut out any extraneous activity (not just committee meetings but house cleaning too!) so that I could spend time with my daughters.

The commenters at Jordan’s post (coincidentally or not, all men) commend him (deservedly so) for being a go-getter and doing it at the opening of his career when he has more time. Some of the commenters write that it won’t be as easy to free up time once he has a family.  But while I don’t doubt that these commenters are committed to their families, that’s not all there is to it. Maybe these commenters now rush to be home by 7 before their kids are in bed instead of 9, or forego golf on the weekend to take their kids to the pool. Sure, those cutbacks interfere with networking – but without someone holding down the fort at home, these cutbacks wouldn’t be nearly sufficient to get all the necessary work done.

Moreover, while any lawyer worth his or her salt recognizes that that there are times that you need to work round the clock to serve a client, the same isn’t true of networking. For that reason, it’s networking and non-billable activities often suffer after children are born – both because they’re discretionary but also because they may require an out of pocket expense for childcare or babysitting that are harder to justify for a non-billable activity.  And when two non-billable activities butt up against each other, it’s usually the mom (but not always!) who’s responsible for arranging for the sitter – and as a result, she may decide to forego her event rather than pay for childcare.  Again – and it’s just my own observation – but it often seems that the significance accorded to in-person networking more adversely impacts moms rather than dads (and if I’m wrong on that, please let me know).

My point is this: given some of the problems with in-person networking – bias against free-wheelers and (possibly, narrowly) against women – should we keep endorsing, lauding and recommending it over and over because that’s how it’s always been done? Or are there equally sound ways to build a successful law practice even by limiting the role of in person networking? I think so – but I’d like to hear your views.

Lone Businesswoman photo courtesy of Shutterstock

By way of the  awesome Tim Baran (have you ever heard anyone say something negative about this guy?), Community Manager of our sponsor Rocket Matter, came this wonderful story  about the transformative power of social media by Brandon Stanton, founder of Humans of New York.

Stanton writes that after losing his finance job in Chicago, he hopped a bus to New York, a city where he’d never been, to become a photographer, an avocation where he’d had almost no experience.  But Stanton loved his craft and was determined to succeed; he took a thousand photos every day (perhaps in pursuit of that 10,000-hour mastery threshold ) and posted his favorites on Facebook. Soon Stanton’s few hundred likes grew to 700,000, his page raised $500k for charities and Stanton published a photography book that reached the #2 spot on Amazon. Here’s how Stanton summarizes his experience:

[My story] could not have happened 10 years ago. Without social media, I’d probably just be a quirky, amateur photographer with a hard drive full of photos. I’d be cold calling respected publications, begging for a feature. I may have even quit by now. Instead, I’ve discovered a daily audience of nearly a million people. Or should I say they discovered me. On Facebook

In many ways, insta-social media fame seems like a lottery ticket – pure chance and certainly not to be relied on as a stand-alone business model. And while surely Stanton’s story involved luck, it also took hard work and perseverance as he shot 1000 photos a day, then culled the best and posted them on Facebook by night. Every day, without fail for two years. When you show up like that, luck can happen with social media as a catalyst that can make luck happen even faster.

Starting a law practice – and even being a lawyer in today’s economy is hard.  On those glass-half-empty days, like many of you, I too see shrinking markets and  dead end opportunities and an endless grind of marketing that make me question why I keep banging my head against a wall. On the worst days, we can even lose faith in ourselves. Social media alone won’t fix either of these problems (certainly sitting around and watching the shiny, happy Twitter-sphere won’t) – but it can give us the charge we need. Yet, instead of recognizing the boost we can get from social media, we deride its value entirely – and diminish stories like Stanton’s. Sometimes, we’re motivated by sour grapes – a sense of “how did he succeed when I’ve been working so hard and didn’t? But it’s also difficult to credit Stanton for taking matters into his own hands, because that would mean that we bear responsibility for our situation and must acknowledge that (in most cases) we hold the keys to success if we can only find the right keyhole.

It’s scary when you realize that you’re accountable for your situation – and that as many people as you can blame, at the end of the day, your own actions played a role. But there’s a flip side to accountability also – because it’s exhilarating to realize that there’s possibility shining at the end of the dark tunnel ready to reward us if we can muster up the will to take that first step.  Stories like Stanton’s give us hope — and even if it’s exaggerated, so what? Hope is always preferable to the alternative – and sometimes, just believing even for a few seconds that we have the power to make something incredible happen is all it takes to force us out the door and get moving another day.

Avid readers may recall that two years ago, MyShingle and I received an “invite” to the defendants’ table  in Rakofsky v. the Internet. Roughly two years later, a decision is finally in.  Defendants prevailed; you can read others’ legal analysis here ,here and here.  Having spent two years reading through reams of pleadings, I see no reason to spill any more ink on the legal question of whether my blog posts were defamatory. They weren’t. The case is over, my side won – and that’s enough. Or is it?

No – it’s not. Because what I’ve learned in my time as a defendant on the other side of the pleading  is that it’s not just enough for lawyers to handle a case competently enough for the win.  If that’s all that my lawyers, Marc Randazza  and Eric Turkewitz had done for me (and my co-defendants) in this case, I’d feel underwhelmed. Yes, I’d think to myself – my lawyers won the case but so what? Couldn’t dozens of other lawyers have done the same thing? Soon, I’d start second-guessing their work (couldn’t they have done more to make it go away sooner?) and ultimately, what they charged would overshadow the result they delivered.

To be clear, that’s not what happened. Not only did Marc and Eric win the case, they served us well, with exceptional briefs, procedural finesse (a skill not to be underestimated) and near-instantaneous responsiveness. Even so, this is the level of performance that clients should expect of their lawyers. That Marc and Eric delivered so well was appreciated of course (particularly because it couldn’t have been a picnic for them to represent 15 opinionated and strong-willed attorneys). But their performance didn’t surprise me because that’s the reason I hired them.

What did surprise me however was that as a client I might feel proud of my lawyers — not just because of how they handled themselves within my case, but also, their reputation outside of it. Throughout case, whenever I saw Marc on T.V. defending Rush Limbaugh’s First Amendment rights (even though he detests the guy) or standing up for the Steubenville blogger, I’d think – “Wow – that’s my lawyer.” When I saw Eric’s picture on the side of a New York bus, I bragged to all of my New York attorney friends – “Hey did you see the New York marathon ads on the buses? That guy in the ad is my lawyer – and a damn good one too!”

Before I became a client myself, it never occurred to me that clients would feel a sense of pride in the lawyer who represented them. But it makes sense. When clients pay precious money to hire a lawyer, they either want someone who stands for what they stand for – or, someone who stands up for them, period. Recall in to Kill a Mockingbird how Tom Robinson’s supporters stood up for Atticus when he left the courtroom – he did them proud.

Even if I’m not clearly articulating how a client might feel proud of a lawyer, certainly, you can understand the flip side: clients who are ashamed of their lawyers. How must clients feel when their lawyer is caught stealing from a trust fund or sleeping with clients or publicly held out by a judge as an example of incompetence or acting like buffoons in television commercial? Although I’ve never particularly cared if lawyer conduct is “dignified” or “befitting of the legal professional” since I’ve always viewed these concepts as highbrow and elitist, I never considered how lawyers’ doltish conduct makes their clients (rather than other lawyers) feel.

It’s rare to hear of clients expressing pride in their lawyers. That they’re not suggests that perhaps we are falling short. At a time when clients are turning to non-lawyer alternatives to get the job done, we lawyers can – and must – do more than simply serve clients competently and get results.  We must make them proud.  Whether that’s through pro bono work or blogging or standing up for an unpopular view or playing a role in the community, that’s your choice.  As for me, going forward from this case, I only hope to make my clients as proud of me as I was – and am – of my lawyers. Thank you Marc and Eric.

In August 2003, roughly nine months into blogging, I crossed the line between professional and personal when I posted this picture of my daughters and me at MyShingle. I recall actually fretting over whether to put the picture up or not – because even though the legal blogosphere back then was small and full of camaraderie, somehow, it seemed unprofessional or at least, off-topic (and therefore, against the “rules” of blogging) to talk about my daughters. A decade later, my reservation seems so silly in a world where we routinely share with professional colleagues photos of kids and pets and what we cooked for dinner on Facebook and Twitter and Pinterest. But back then, it was different.

For better or worse, I didn’t follow conventional wisdom. Though I hardly converted my blog into a “mommy blog” (which by the way, I don’t consider a pejorative term), I used my forum to mark the passage of time as my daughters grew older and to publicly struggle with balance while dealing with stereotypes.

Ten years later, I’m emerging on the other side of child-rearing. Debate on work-life balance or Sheryl Sandberg’s book, Lean In no longer resonate with me because those issues aren’t mine anymore. But guess what – they’re not Sheryl Sandberg’s or Laurel Bellow’s either: choices about children and career belong to you.

What that means is this: just because an ABA honcho without a modicum of creative thinking can’t figure out how women (or men) might re-enter the law after taking five years off to raise kids doesn’t mean that the advice applies to you. Just because one of the most successful women in the tech industry tells you to lean in to your career and climb the corporate ladder by making contacts within an organization instead of building something new doesn’t mean that approach will make you happy or work for your family.

Moreover, this kind of advice — and any advice, really, falls short, because it presumes a static world where nothing changes. Because the world has changed – giving us access to the web and social media and contacts that were never available before that make work life balance (for want of a better word) feasible. But even more, parenthood changes us too – or at least, it should. Motherhood has changed me profoundly — as I realize that luck and genes play as important a role in our children’s success as parents do, while the things you thought would make you proud of your kids (honors! awards! photo in the paper!) take a backseat to the way your heart swells when you watch your child refuse to give up in a class that’s a struggle or perform some random act of kindness. And that no matter how wise you think you are, your kids will often tune you out – and things will work out anyway.

So in honor of my daughters (who tune me out), why not do the same? Don’t listen to me, don’t listen to Sheryl or Laurel, listen to yourself. Don’t lean in to job and career like everyone else says. Don’t look over at what everyone else is doing and follow their lead, don’t lash out and feel compelled to justify your path over others. Instead, tune out — ask yourself what you want and what matters — then plug in your ear pods and follow your internal voice, wherever it might lead.

Yesterday, federal judge Otis Wright slammed  Prenda, a rogue “porno trolling” quasi-law firm that figured out a formula to get rich in the Internet Age. As Judge Wright uncovered , Prenda bought copyright interests in porn movies, placed them in shell corporations to appear as if they were owned by clients (rather than Prenda lawyers) – then brought boilerplate copyright infringement actions against individuals suspected of having downloaded the porn and extorted hush money to make the cases go away.  Finding that Prenda had exploited “antiquated copyright laws, paralyzing social stigma and unaffordable [legal defense] costs” to “plunder the citizenry,” Judge Wright came down hard, awarding double attorneys fees and referring the attorneys to ethics committees, the U.S. Attorney and the IRS for investigation. (For detailed coverage, See Popehat).

Even though Judge Wright pulled the trigger on Prenda, it took solo  – in this particular case  Manhattan Beach, California based  Morgan Pietz to make the Judge angry enough to pick up the gun.  In a lengthy affidavit, Pietz, aggregating information on Prenda’s activities in other courts, systematically connected the dots to paint a picture Prenda’s unlawful acts, culminating in its theft of an innocent third-party’s (a property caretaker for one of Prenda’s principals) identity to use front for one of its shell corporations.  Though solo, Pietz didn’t defeat Prenda all on his own; a small army of solo and small firms mobilized nationwide to defend Prenda’s (and other trolls’) victims. Presumably, these firms also collaborated and shared documents that eventually exposed the Prenda and lead to its demise.

As with the mortgage foreclosure fiasco  (a fraud that resulted in thousands of evictions based on robo-signed documents) the Prenda travesty shows why, more than ever, we need solo. 

Because sometimes online, DIY materials – even of the outstanding quality as those prepared by the Electronic Freedom Foundation’s  (EFF) – aren’t enough.

Because sometimes, unbundled legal services in the form of lawyer-prepared forms and pleadings as those prepared by solo Graham Syfert as triage (and got him sued) aren’t enough.

Because sometimes “value-based billing” doesn’t always align with and serve the client’s interest (in these cases, value-based billing, if strictly applied, would militate in favor of settling).

Because sometimes, the technology-powered advancements that futurists believe will solve the problem of access to justice simply fall short because they address process, not people.

So long as our justice system is human, we need solo – scrappy, zealous, delightfully dogged, miraculous solos to defend and protect clients.  Our profession and the media obsess about the future of big law — yet if it disappeared tomorrow, would we even notice or care? (already alternatives abound, from robust in-house counsel offices, alternatives like Axiom and offshoring). Prenda reminds us that if we lose solo, we lose justice.

Even in the age of social media and blogging, the humble law firm newsletter still matters.  Consider this:

 1.  Newsletters offer a way to stay connected with current and prospective clients. While a law firm Facebook page serves that purpose as well, many people prefer to keep their personal recreational time on Facebook separate from business – and thus, won’t like a Facebook page. And depending upon the nature of a matter (e.g., criminal, domestic violence), some law firms will advise clients against  liking a law firm Facebook page since doing so could reveal that the client has retained a lawyer.

 2. Newsletters offer content without the same level of commitment as blogging. Unless you really, really like to write and love the topics you’re covering, blogging can eventually become a chore.  Here at MyShingle, I can churn out content like a pro but even I’ve met my Waterloo in covering complex energy regulatory matters on my law firm blog.

 3. Newsletters offer more opportunity for creativity and personal sharing. Generally, a blog is either part of, or at least linked to a law firm website. Since many lawyers, particularly those who compete for corporate clients, prefer to maintain a more formal presence on their websites, they’re hesitant to share information about family or hobbies on their blog. By contrast, newsletters are, by their nature, slightly more intimate (since they’re not necessarily posted all over the web) and as a result, lawyers are more comfortable including personal tidbits.

 4. Newsletters allow for more in-depth coverage. I’m not a fan of the 3-paragraph, “top 5 reasons….” blog post. At the same time, I have a hard time scrolling through a 10-screen post analyzing a complicated regulation.  Because it’s a discrete document that can be easily printed or saved, a newsletter provides a far better forum for lengthy posts than a blog.

5. Newsletters are less intimidating than formal legal writing.  Of course, if you want to promote your content, you could simply post your legal briefs and pleadings online at a site JDSupra.  Although posting legal documents enables you to show your skills, lots of potential clients – from consumers to in house counsel – are not likely to be inclined to kick back and dive into a 15 page motion replete with cites and footnotes.

6. Newsletters are visually appealing. Spoiled by the visuals of the web, today’s readers expect an aesthetically pleasing experience. Most law blogs, while attractive enough, aren’t all that exciting to look at since it’s a hassle (and potentially costly) to include photos with every post. Newsletters offer a myriad of opportunities for photos, branding and varied layouts.

Even in a market which is saturated with newsletters, there are ample opportunities to make yours stand out. I resisted law firm newsletters for years, believing that my blogging (which wasn’t as sporadic at the time) sufficed and that in any event, I couldn’t compete with the frequency of big firm newsletters prepared by platoons of associates. But because I opted for a conversational tone in my newsletters (which admittedly is a bit challenging given the subject matter), my newsletters have gotten notice as well as further distribution in more prominent trade publications.  (Of course, if you opt for canned content, which isn’t a good idea for a variety of reasons, you won’t enjoy the benefits of standing out from your competitors).

So why not give newsletters a try? Here’s a blog post that I penned in 2009 with detailed tips on getting started (though the post doesn’t mention my current favorite newsletter platform, Mailchimp.com and also getting greater bang for the buck by redistributing newsletter content. As further motivation, here’s a Pinterest Board I’ve created for solo and small firm newsletters – and if you start a newsletter, I’m happy to pin it here. And for those who are already publishing and would like to display your newsletter up on the board, place a link to your newsletter in the comments below (preferred approach) or email the link to me at carolyn.elefant@gmail.com.   Print newsletters welcome too – send me a PDF version and I’ll upload that too.  Finally, feel free to share your experience with a firm newsletter in the comment section.

This is one of my favorite scenes from A Civil Action . Billed as a book (and movie) about a class action by an underdog lawyer against a major corporation, A Civil Action is also, somewhat unintentionally, one of the very best books about solo practice, covering the tumults and the triumphs and the dichotomous perception of solo as hero and bottom feeder.

In this excerpt, the author, Jonathan Harr captures the magical part of solo practice – when you team up with people who inspire you and find the work you feel like you were meant to do. Here, Kevin Conway — a Georgetown law grad who left a lucrative career as a sixth year associate at a big law firm and opened a fledgling law practice handling petty-ante cases that equally bored him — recalls his first meeting with Jan Schlictmann, the book’s protagonist:

Kevin used to [say] “There’s no passion in my life. He was bored with what he was doing. Then Jan burst into the office…He was overpowering…Kevin said “Jan’s exactly what you hope you’re going to be when you get out of law school…[The two] worked together everyday. In the evening they’d go downstairs to the Emperor of China restaurant on Tremont Street for dinner and come back to the office and work some more…[when one case didn't settle], Conway and Schlictmann prepared for trial. It was an Essex County case, on the north shore of Massachusetts…They rented a room at a cheap motel near the Essex County Courthouse. They lived there for two weeks, amid piles of lawbooks, medical texts and legal pads. On a bureau was a portable typewriter on which Schlictmann typed last-minute motions. They ate their meals at a diner next to the motel, keeping company with long-haul truck drivers. They worked until two or three o’clock in the morning and then got up to go to court. Conway felt punchy from lack of sleep but he also felt exhilarated. “Working with Jan” Conway said of that time, “Was the difference between being alive and being dead.” (The jury awarded their client $492,000).

Isn’t that what we’re all seeking when we start a law practice? Purposeful challenging work that matters and engages, like-minded colleagues and financial reward. Whenever I question why I’ve chosen this path (which I’ve been doing lately), I return to that passage and remind myself.

What’s the best day that you ever had in your practice? Or do you work with someone who equally inspires you, or opened up an opportunity for you as Schlictmann did for Conway. I would love to hear your experiences.

I am so, so sorry that I have had to cancel today’s free webinar on how to launch and lift a 21st Century Practice. The immediate cause of the cancellation is that the Anymeeting.com platform crashed – my assistant, more than 100 participants and I were locked out of the site. I’ll trash the service thoroughly in a minute.  But first, my own  mea culpa – ultimately, I stand responsible for the failure because I should have had a back up plan.

And in fact, three years ago, I would have. When I started offering webinars back in 2010 or even earlier, I would circulate a phone number from freeconferencecall.com and a PDF of the presentation in addition to the web platform information. Flash forward to today, and I have enough webinars under my belt, either on my own or with the expert assistance of LegalTypist Andrea Cannavina (who has helped with 21st Century Retainer Agreement) that I’ve gotten over-confident, and assumed that the technology will work every time. Unfortunately, we’re not there yet.

Does my experience mean that you should trash the cloud or give up your smart phone calendar in favor of a notepad? Absolutely not. At least ninety percent of the time, technology works; it doesn’t make sense to forego its use entirely for the ten percent of the time or less that it’s not available. Instead, use the tech to your heart’s content, but always assume that it won’t work and have a Plan B in place. For webinars, a Plan B means having another platform as backup, or an alternative and more reliable mechanism such as a dial-in phone number combined with a PDF. For presenting at a conference, a Plan B means coming prepared with your own wireless hotspot if you intend to show sites online or including static screen shots in your PowerPoint presentation that you can use if you can’t access the internet.  For exhibits and calendars and other materials stored on an iPhone, a Plan B means lugging along extra batteries, powerstrips and connections in case your device runs out of steam. For tablet, Plan B means storing copies of files in Dropbox, Box.net or other cloud-based provider on the device itself so you can access them without the internet.

Ninety-five percent of the time, I employ these best practices (if you’ve ever seen me at an event, I’m the popular gal in the back of the room whose powerstrip makes me a hub of activity). Unfortunately, when I don’t use them, I don’t get credit for the times that I do – I just look bad.

Anyway, that’s my mea culpa – now on to the other culprit, Anymeeting.com. I’ll say it again, Anymeeting.com. I’d chosen Anymeeting.com because I knew that the webinar would attract a large audience and Anymeeting.com offers both a free, ad-supported service and a relatively low priced $69 non-ad service for up to 200 people.  And while one “might” be inclined to give a free service a pass, there is absolutely no excuse for Anymeeting.com’s PAID service not to work. It’s utterly unforgiveable.

But then again, I should have known better. The hybrid freemium/premium model simply does not work. Companies wind up spending the bulk of their resources on free riders to the detriment of paying customers. In the past, I often opted to pay for free services that I was happy with to show appreciation for the company’s willingness to offer the service free. And while I’ll do that for companies like Mailchimp which limit their free service to a relatively low number of customers (to avoid compromising service to paying customers), I will never, ever again pay for a service that is made available to others free with ad support.

So Anymeeting.com, I’ve made my mea culpa – let’s hear yours. Maybe you assume I am a free rider, so you have no reason to make participants whole. Maybe you assume that because I didn’t charge for my program that no one was harmed. But that’s not so- my reputation has suffered severely – but worse than that, over a hundred participants were inconvenienced.  My callers set aside time from work, billing and other activities to obtain information about launching and lifting a law practice. Anymeeting.com, you have an obligation to make them whole.   And of course it goes without saying that those who are thinking about using Anymeeting.com for a web platform or investing in or acquiring the company, DON’T!!!

Note – if you registered for the webinar, I am going to record it and make it available along with the PDF files. Again, apologies for the inconvenience. I also plan to find a capable provider and reschedule for next week, with a Plan B in place. Stay tuned.

Sometimes, the best marketing ideas cost the least amount of money.

Like trotting out a branded powerstrip  at a hearing or conference: it’s a way to connect by providing a useful service (a power outlet) and striking up a conversation in the process. Same with a laptop cover– a great icebreaker and potential business idea for another business owner or prospective client.

These days though, my latest low-end business development accessory is a pack of electronics wipes. As we spend more time using our ipads and iphones, they can pick up dirt, dust and remnants of lunch and kids (especially if like me, you’re inclined to share your devices with a pack of five and seven year old nephews and nieces) – which can be embarrassing if you later opt to share your screen with a client or business colleague. Likewise, colleagues may have the same problem – and offering up a pack of wipes (preferably branded is appreciated. ( Digicleans are also neat but slightly pricier).

I’m not suggesting that a clean tissue or a cup of coffee will make you a better lawyer or drive dozens of clients through the door. But these little things make peoples’ lives easier – and they matter more than we realize.

What’s your low-end secret. Share it below.

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.-Oscar Wilde

As you’ve probably heard, many futurists believe that the legal profession is dying — and that within a decade, lawyers will go the way of journalists, travel agents and bike couriers into extinction. They urge lawyers to dump the law, and turn to careers in project management and programming or to set up shop filling out automated forms. They are wrong.

For those of you who went to law school because you love the law, there is a future and it shines bright if you know where to look. One of those options is launching a law practice – or lifting the one you have.  This FREE webinar will teach why starting a law practice can create opportunities you never imagined and show you how to take advantage of 21st century trends like alternative billing, co-working space, the cloud, the web and outsourcing to make it happen.

Launching a law firm isn’t easy – and this program won’t scrimp on the realities. But you’ll learn how to overcome the hurdles and blast off into a future that is brighter than you ever imagined.  And even if you decide not to start your own firm, you’ll take away tips that will help you figure out the next step in your career.

This free webinar is presented by Carolyn Elefant, author of Solo by Choice and founder of the 10+ year old blog, MyShingle.com.

Time: 1 pm ET
Date: Friday May 3
Sign up for the free webinar here.