Statute of Frogs

Divine angst opined the other day that the cover letter on your clerkship application is just another chance to screw up. In most cases, I have to agree. With a few exceptions, the cover letter can be very short and to the point:

• I’m froggie, a [2L, 3L, overworked associate] at [law school, law firm]
• I’m interested in a clerkship in your chambers¹
• Enclosed are my resume, transcript, and writing sample
• Recommendations from persons A, B, and C are [enclosed, coming under separate cover]
• If you need more information or would like to schedule an interview, you can reach me at phone number / e-mail

End of story.

There’s no need to re-hash your resume by pointing out that you were on Law Review or were number 22 in your class or any of that stuff. Even more importantly, comments like “I think my [collection of skills, interest in the law, previous work experience] make me uniquely suited to [be a successful clerk in your chambers, add value, make your decisions even better than they already are]” don’t help. First, no one is “uniquely qualified” for this job. ² Second, if the judge didn’t think clerks would help her operate more effectively, she wouldn’t hire them. These kinds of statements just sound pretentious and ring hollow. Let the rest of your application speak for itself.

Similarly, there’s no need to explain that being Judge X’s clerk would be a great learning experience for you. It’s true, but it’s true for everyone. And the judge already knows it.

The only other positive purpose that a cover letter serves is to communicate important information that doesn’t have a logical place anywhere else in your packet. The most common one of these is if there is a reason, not clear from your resume, that you want to clerk in a particular jurisdiction. If you’re a Harvard grad and you’re applying only in the Western District of Louisiana because your significant other has taken a job in Lake Charles, that’s useful information. Also, if you’re applying to a judge who hires two-year clerks and you specifically want to clerk for two years, that’s worth mentioning. Beyond that, keep it short and sweet.

1. Even this one is not strictly necessary, but the letter reads a little funny without it. [↩]
2. I have never seen an application from someone who’s actually been a judge before. That might make you “uniquely qualified.” But that’s about it. [↩]

One of great advantages of the two-year clerkship is that I’m around long enough to see some of my cases argued at the Court of Appeals.  There’s been a run on them recently.  With the one on Thursday, I’ll go to four in the span of a month.  I’ve been to appellate arguments before, but it’s completely different when you know the cases intimately.  For one thing, it’s a lot harder to sit still and watch.  There were several times when I winced as the appellee — who by definition is the litigant we found for in the district court — made (or failed to make) arguments that I knew wouldn’t fly.  I wanted to go up and pass notes, but that would, I decided, have been inappropriate.  And in one case, I’m concerned that the Court of Appeals just doesn’t understand what we did.¹  Still, it’s a lot of fun to see the arguments, and at least on two of the cases, I’m pretty sure our opinion is safe.  Presumably, I’ll be gone by the time the opinions actually come out, but I’m sure I’ll hear about the results.

1. This is, of course, my fault to some degree.  I’d really like to go back to that opinion and add a couple paragraphs on one particular issue, just to make the whole thing a bit clearer. [↩]

This is the week that my old co-clerk is transitioning to my new co-clerk. That must mean we’re halfway through. And (perhaps a bit to my surprise) I’m glad this isn’t the end of my clerkship. There’s still too much I want to see the end of.