I’m a bit of a Latin geek, but most aren’t, and “i.e.” and “e.g.” routinely cause mix-ups.

—In fact, it’s one of the top five mistakes ‘Grammar Girl’ says she sees in technical documents.

Both abbreviations are common in legal writing, too. You should just learn them now so you don’t have to look ‘em up every time. ⤵️

Example: “While reviewing the merger agreement, my coffee spilled.”

—Careless coffee!

Always reviewing my contracts.

👉 Classic dangling modifier: the wrong noun is “doing” the action.

It’s not the coffee reviewing the agreement, it’s you.

❌ The reason the court cancelled is because it rained.

✅ The reason the court cancelled is that it rained.

And yes, this is a HUGE pet peeve of mine.

Why?
—Because “reason” already signals causation.
—So adding “because” adds redundancy.

That curve will not get me!”

—(an incoming 1L actually said this to me last week)

ME: (sigh)

1L: “What’s wrong? I know it sounds onerous, but I don’t mind.”

ME: (longer sigh)

Even worse, lawyers think they 𝙙𝙤 know how to use it, so they use it too much, like a crutch.

That makes them sound like incompetent amateurs, not the esteemed pros they strive to be.

Let’s make sure you avoid amateurville today, OK? Here’s your guide. ⤵️

Yesterday was Day 2,190.

Six years, to be exact.

Yet somehow, hotels still put me to the test.

They don’t come at you all at once. They poke you. They prod.

First comes the lobby.
Warm smile.
Small talk.

They:
—read the question;
—identify the issue;
—try to figure out the answer; and
—write an essay to justify that answer.

Instead, the MUCH better way is to:

—identify the issue;
—write one side’s best arguments;
—write the other side’s best arguments; and
—explain why one side has the better arguments.

For today, I thought we’d start with some podcasts recommendations.

Here are 5 that I think you’ll like:

1️⃣ How I Lawyer. Jonah Perlin

This one is hosted by a buddy of mine, Jonah Perlin, a lawyer turned Georgetown law professor.

A long list of string cites won’t cut it.

It is FAR more convincing to describe one or two of the cases in a full sentence BEFORE you advance your conclusion.

—Bare parentheticals make your argument harder to follow.

{—And I’m sorry if that’s not progressive enough for you, but it was 1993, and I was hell-bent on NOT ending up as a spinster.}

You see, I never wanted to be a lawyer.
My dad was a lawyer.
He hated it.
I wanted to be a high-school teacher.
Like my mom.

How I hate how my hands have been tied. Alas—

I have created a new self-editing checklist for you.

It includes the 40 most common mistakes I’ve seen 1Ls make over the past 5 years since I’ve been reviewing these briefs after-the-fact, and the items included cover the major points I would otherwise be helping you with individually.

I got straight A’s.
I followed all the rules.
And I never got into any trouble.

“The last of the sweet and innocent,”
the high-school yearbook dubbed me.

That was in 7th grade, but by 9th, my goody two shoes fell out of vogue.

My best friends started resenting me.

It’s potentially THE No. 1 most important part of a brief.

Here’s why:

1: It’s the first thing a court sees.

(—First impressions can be everything.)

2: It’s the first thing a court sees.

Step away and write the table of contents (TOC).

I swear this saved me in so many briefs.

It’s very common to get lost in the weeds of the details of the cases; you can spin yourself round and round.

You need to step back.
You need to consult the map.
You need to get away to see the big picture.

“But Amanda,” you say, “many lawyers—even judges—use ‘find’ generically all the time to describe the actions courts take.”

 —I know. You are right about that. But that does not make using “find” right.

🔹 An appellate court doesn’t “find” anything. It renders conclusions of law, not fact.