The lawyer kills the writer

This isn't an update on Eddie. More on him later. This is about a book that I've been writing for the better part of forever.

The book is a legal thriller/mystery that takes place mostly in the desert towns east of San Diego. My protagonist, Tony, is trying to discover who killed his wife...and who is trying to kill him. For the past few month's Tony has been stuck in transit to his friend's old law office- a victim of writer's block. I just can't think of what to write next. When I think about the criminals that inhabit Tony's world- the criminal cases in my world interfere. I think to myself that I should be refining my cross examination for my upcoming trial. I think about some inconsistency that I remember in the police officer's testimony. And I drift off my novel and into my work.

The lawyer kills the writer every time.

My friend, the alleged murderer. Part I.

As an criminal defense attorney, I've talked to many, many people through the glass at a jail or prison. It's never a comfortable experience. There's something about being incarcerated that really brings out the desperation in many people. Some people are driven to the edge of tears, others to the edge of a powerless anger.

They look to me to bring them back to where they should be. To help them find the peace and the hope in their predictaments. To find a solution. Often, I can help them. Sometimes, the evidence against them is too strong or their hopes are too high- but usually I can find a way to pull a rabbit out of a hat for a client. Over the years I've been good at helping strangers stuck in the criminal justice system.

I've found it's a lot different when the face staring back at me is a friend.

Recently, I've gone twice to visit a friend of mine in jail. The dynamic is completely different. My friend, Eddie D., is charged with murder and I can't help him. He looks at me with eyes that are despondent and I can offer him only some shades of emotional support. I find myself angry at him for getting himself in this situation- for having talked to the police before calling me. For having done what he did. For making me feel like the powerless one.

The sad truth is that Eddie's family can't afford me- even at a drastically reduced rate- and I can't afford to work a murder case for nothing- as much as I wish that I could.

The sad truth is that his defense comes down to simple economics. He's friends with a criminal defense attorney, but will be represented by the public defender.

It's taking me a lot to get my head around this.

More later.

What do I really have to say?

Picture the scene. Successful young defense attorney retires to a cafe after court. His polished black dress shoes reflect the light through the window as he rests them on a chair. His black suit contrasts with a french blue shirt with white cuffs and collar. A silk tie in a slightly difference shade of blue is held in place by a sterling silver tie clip. Everything seems perfectly in order.

But, looking closely, you would notice a few details that reveal the real story here. A certain fraying of the silk tie. A missing cuff link. The black hair is curling beyond the power of gel to contain it. The eyes are narrow and bloodshot. And the easy smile seems slightly feral.

You'd see stress below the surface, which is the story of my life nowdays.

My life is stressful simply because other people's futures depend on me. On my courtroom performances. My average client is either facing incarceration or deportation. Usually I can help them by pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Sometimes, i just can't. Yesterday, I lost a case by the thinest of margins and my client's life in this country was ended. As I consoled his crying wife, I didn't second guess myself- not exactly- I knew I'd done all that I could. But, I still felt guilty for not having been able to do more than I could. For not being able to have one of those moments of incredible clarity- where you can do no wrong in the Courtroom. Where your arguments ring through and the judge follows your reasoning- even when you're wrong.

It takes me a couple days after a loss to be able to function well. By Monday, I'll be ready to take on the next case. This time I'll win.

But, what do I have to say on this blog? I don't know yet. let me get back to you on that.