As a young clerk in a Los Angeles courtroom, Yxta Maya Murray listened to hundreds of passionate allocutions from desperate defendants who told their stories from the only platform they had available. And everybody, it seemed, had a story to tell.

"I'd go home and feel very stressed out and just wished I could process that information in a way that made sense," says Murray, who began "processing" by writing short stories. After her fiction was published by a local literary magazine, she immediately jumped into book-length fiction.

Five novels and a literary agent later, Murray today teaches law and literature at Loyola Law School in Los Angeles and continues to write fiction.

Although many lawyers find their careers afford a colorful palette for page-turning stories, few have successfully taken a tale from courtroom to print. But some have found fiction a creative outlet and a passion at least equal to that of practicing law.

"A lot of lawyers think about making the quantum leap to [becoming] a John Grisham," says Linda Fairstein, the former New York prosecutor whose Alex Cooper crime books have topped the bestseller list for more than a decade. "Most lawyers write well, and many have seen interesting things, but it also takes discipline."

Even if one has the fodder for crime novels and legal mysteries, the other gritty reality is that many lawyers put in 60+-hour work weeks. Weaving a story into a bestseller requires as much time and hard work as a lengthy legal brief—not to mention wit and imagination.

The Lawyer as Writer

Ayelet Waldman began her career as a public defender. But when her first child was born, she took a temporary full-time teaching job. "I had to write a law review article, and every time I sat down to write, I couldn't remember the topic," Waldman recalls. "I hated the idea of writing a law review article that 11 people would read, and I hated the idea of spending my career writing things for 11 people. So I would fall asleep."

One day while trying to stay awake, Waldman began writing a murder mystery "on a whim." She secretly worked on it for about a month and then showed it to her husband, a Pulitzer Prize–winning novelist. "It was just a way to kill time until the end of the semester. Then I had to do something that felt vaguely professional, so I finished it."

Waldman's Mommy-Track detective series was written while she raised her four children. Like Murray and Fairstein, she drew on what she knew from her days in the public defender's office, but since then, she has branched into general fiction. "My last two novels had lawyers as characters. The one I'm working on now doesn't [include] anything about the law."

Fairstein always wanted to be a writer. She studied English literature at Vassar College, but at the same time felt pulled to public service, so she opted for law school.

"My father was very practical, and he said before I became a writer I had to have something to write about, and he was right," says Fairstein, who emphasizes that while she never gave up the idea of being a writer, she "fell in love" with her work as the head of the sex crimes unit in the Manhattan District Attorney's (DA's) Office. Fairstein was instrumental in improving women's access to the criminal justice system and put into practice pioneering reforms when DNA evidence was allowed in the early 1980s.

Fairstein was asked to write a nonfiction book about the evolution of the criminal justice system's policies toward sex crimes. After the book was published in 1993, she worked out an agreement with the DA that allowed her to write fiction and continue to work as a prosecutor without a conflict of interest.

She wrote four of the seven popular Alex Cooper novels while working full time, and the remaining after she retired in 2002. "Looking back, I simply don't know how I did it," she laughs. "Every personal moment I had I wrote—mostly at 5am and during all my vacation time. But I loved doing it."

Julie James was a labor and employment lawyer for Sidley Austin LLP in Chicago when she wrote her first screenplay. "I'm a big movie buff, and it was just in the back of my mind that I had this idea for a romantic comedy. So I wrote at 10 at night or 3am, and I had no idea if it was any good."

It turns out it was, and after the second screenplay was sold, she realized working through the nights was taking its toll. "I thought selling one screenplay was maybe a fluke, but two back-to-back?" James decided to shift to practicing law part time, and she wrote two more screenplays.

However, because female-driven plots may languish on Hollywood producers' shelves (James sold the rights to produce her first screenplays but they have yet to make it to the screen), she turned to writing full-length fiction. Both of her novels made national bestseller lists, and she left her law job to write full time. She continues to write romantic comedies and is currently working on her third novel.

Write What You Know

Virtually any beginning creative writing class suggests the best starting point is to write what you know. For lawyers like Fairstein who made headlines prosecuting the so-called preppy murder in Central Park in 1986, it may seem like an easy mandate.

"But it also takes talent and creativity to tell a story well," Fairstein points out. "Sometimes the dry ethics of the law are not necessarily going to translate into fireworks that keep the reader turning pages; a lot of creative imagination and storytelling skills are involved."

While Fairstein's protagonist Alexandra Cooper is a young prosecutor in New York, Murray's early novels were about Latinas in the Los Angeles barrios. "They weren't based on actual events, but they turned out to be an amalgam of my Mexican American background and what I've seen—I'm drawn to telling stories about gang members and Latino culture."

James, too, relied on her experience at a large law firm in her romantic comedies. Critics of her first novel praised her portrayal of courtroom settings and behind-the-scenes legal maneuverings. "The heroine does exactly what I did . . . it takes place in a law office and it's all about courtroom high jinks and this battle-ofthe-sexes story."

From Page to Publisher

The old adage says that everyone has a book inside them, but only some people should write them. So how do you know if you're the next Scott Turow, John Grisham—or Linda Fairstein?

"If it's something you want to do, you have to treat it like a job," says James, who purchased screenwriting software and researched agents carefully before she began her marketing efforts.

Many state and local bar associations provide workshops for lawyers who want to write fiction, and most law schools offer law and literature courses that can inspire.

"Most good lawyers have discipline if [they've] been involved in law practice, and it's an important skill to have," says Fairstein, whose writing schedule even in retirement is rigorous and regular.

Marketing a manuscript too is something not to be taken for granted. Waldman and Fairstein both had access to publishing agents, and Fairstein had made a name for herself in the Manhattan District Attorney's Office long before her first book hit print. For others, it may not be that easy.

Murray and James sent in their manuscripts cold turkey, but only after they researched appropriate venues and agents. "Don't quit your day job," warns Leslie Ann Budewitz, a Montana writer and lawyer in private practice who also works as a consultant providing legal information for authors who want to use the law realistically in their fiction.

Future Fiction Writers

While most successful writers concur in their advice that aspiring authors should keep their day jobs when starting out, opportunities to pursue the law and fiction writing in tandem will most likely remain on the landscape. Hamline Law School in St. Paul, Minnesota, recently began offering a joint juris doctor (JD) and master of fine arts (MFA) degree in creative writing. The JD/MFA dual degree is offered to a limited number of students and is gaining popularity.

"There's a new generation of public advocacy influenced by people like Al Gore who use creative nonfiction in books and lectures to affect public policy," says Jon Garon, retired Hamline dean and now a law professor at the university, who spearheaded the dualdegree program. "We want to encourage public engagement and give students the tools to write fiction if they choose," he says, pointing out that social justice issues are often played out in fiction, and the ability to write well plays an important role. "We are increasingly seeing in social media the power of being able to write effectively and shape debate through the good illustration of stories."

Yxta Maya Murray agrees. "Law is a narrative of who we are as human beings and what our motives are; it's a story that shows we're in control and that we should pay for what we've done. And people love to switch gears between fact and fiction."