Richard W. Bishop, Esq.

Interview with West's Longest-Serving Author: Richard W. Bishop, Esq.
By Jenny Mockenhaupt, Principal Attorney-Editor

A: When I was 12 and in high school, I won a prize for a piece of fiction that appeared in a Boston newspaper. Perhaps the $10.00 award was a beginning. In college I attempted other writings without success, and in law school I wrote for the law review. It wasn't until my partner and I had started our law practice in 1938 that I began to write in earnest. Our furniture was sparse; the telephone was on an orange crate, our desks from home, and our pencil sharpener from my partner's basement.

Our first case (it had been waiting for us to become full-fledged), was a fatal-accident automobile case, and the fee paid our expenses for a full year. We had no thought of withdrawing any funds for our personal use. It was then that I began to write pulp detective and mystery stories. The payment was a penny a word, and the checks for ten, fifteen, or twenty-five dollars were most welcome. Raymond Chandler, Erle Stanley Gardner, and John MacDonald were getting their start in the same way.

When the market for pulp fiction dried up, I turned to the juvenile field. More than 20 magazines accepted my material, and between 1947 and 1954 I wrote stories about postage stamps for a monthly page in Open Road for Boys. In 1952, I wrote my first book for teenagers. It was published by Thomas Y. Crowell Company, later taken over by Harper and Row, and was called Stepping Stones to Light. It was a history of the electric light bulb, ending with Edison's successful discovery. It was well-received and was translated into several foreign languages. From Kite to Kitty Hawk, a history of the development of heavier-than-air flight ending with the Wright brothers, followed.

It was then that J. Howard Manningham, the owner of Boston Law Book, asked me to write a volume for the Massachusetts Practice Series. It was to be volume 17 in the series, and I was given a choice of subjects. In law school, Professor Frank L. Simpson, who taught us negligence and trusts (an odd combination), was admired by all the students. He had written a book in one volume, the ancestor of Summary of Basic Law [now in its fourth edition, volumes 14-14C of the Massachusetts Practice Series, written by Professor Howard J. Alperin], and it was the bible of all of the students preparing to take the bar examination. I thought a book that broke down the basic elements of each type of case and explained how to prove each of them would be helpful and chose Prima Facie Case as the subject and title for my volume. It first appeared in 1954. Revised every ten years, each revision until the last has developed into an additional volume, until now, when it has reached its present proportions.

A: There are really only two basic ingredients to ultimate success for an author. Stick-to-it-iveness is the first and perhaps the most important, and the desire to improve as you go along is the second.

Of course, they don't always apply. I told my daughter Jill, when she wanted to retire from teaching to raise a family and wanted to write, that she perhaps would have to endure 250 rejections before she sold a story as I had done. I was wrong. She sold her first bit of fiction to a leading child's magazine on her first submission. When Jill and other writers starting out have asked my advice, I tell them, "Don't give up until you can wallpaper a room with rejections - even then don't give up." Jill has stuck to it and now is a published author, too.

It was Thomas Edison who said, "Genius is one percent inspiration and 99% perspiration." Writing is work—there is no doubt about it—but anyone can do it if they are willing to work up a bit of sweat.

A: I don't think they have changed one single bit.

A: In fiction, the answer is easy. The moral climate of the country has changed remarkably. In earlier days, the protagonist in detective stories was always wise, hardworking, and honest. Crime did not pay. In the end the criminal was always caught and punished. Screenplays, with the Hayes office hovering overhead, saw that the moving pictures followed the same pattern. Today, editors vary this tune and seem almost anxious to have their characters engage in explicit sex scenes and use four-letter words, and crime does not always result in dire results for the criminal.

In nonfiction, in a much lesser way, this is reflected in changing laws. Gestational contracts are upheld, same-sex marriage permitted in liberal states at least, and cohabitation overlooked. The changing attitudes are absorbed in statutes and caselaw.

That is not to say that this is all bad. It is merely change.

A: My family means everything to me.

By way of background, Ida and I met when we were both students at Boston University in 1933; we were married three months after I graduated from law school in September 1938. We have three children, Dick (not a junior), Greg, and Jill. The two boys opted not to follow in my footsteps and became doctors. Jill has followed part way and now also is a writer. (You can see her and part of the family on her Web site, www.jillrubalcaba.com). She has become an authority on Egyptology and has just completed her tenth book for teenagers for National Geographic. All three children are married to wonderful mates that we like to think of as our own. Each of our children has two of his or her own, making six grandchildren, and, collectively, they have produced seven great-grandchildren. They have been, and still are, scattered over most of the United States, and we visit with them frequently. Also, Ida and I and our three children all have cottages on the water of Cape Cod Bay in Eastham, and each summer we gather at our little compound and vacation together.

Ida and the children have always been tremendously supportive of my efforts as a writer. I am sure that Ida has spent many lonely hours while I wore down the pencils, pounded away on the typewriter, and worked at the computer keyboard. She has interests of her own, of course, and loves to read, mostly biographies and other books of nonfiction. When we both were younger, she was enthusiastic about sailing our little Wigeon sailboat or waterskiing behind our motorboat all over Cape Cod Bay. I cannot count the children she has taught to swim, sail, or ski.

When the children were small, I wrote in the evenings after they had gone to bed. It was quiet then, and I could turn out a short pulp yarn or a short nonfiction piece every night or two. When the opportunity to write for West came along, the Massachusetts Decisions, Massachusetts Digests, and the Massachusetts Practice Series were at my fingertips for reference. The statutes were at my office. I was never without one of the weekly "Green Books" in my hip pocket to read in idle moments. (One is there now.)

During all of this period, Ida and the children, now leading lives of their own (Dick has even retired), still encourage me to continue. They listen to my comments on the changing law and the pleasure it gives me in keeping up with it, and with my writing. I could never have accomplished anything, writing or practice, without their complete support.

As the children grew up, married, and went away, there was only a small change. I no longer wrote at night. Now I go to bed early, get up at four o'clock in the morning, and start before daylight. It gives me three or four hours to get words on paper. All of the source material (including the statutes) is available to me on the computer.

I am the luckiest guy in the world.

A: A lawyer in active practice who writes about law finds his sources in everyday life. And so does a writer of fiction. Nonfiction writers and writers for trade magazines have search engines. For my part in writing Prima Facie Case, my main resource is Westlaw.

Because of the frequency with which the cases are appearing, I am presently writing a new chapter for Prima Facie Case dealing with the discipline of attorneys, physicians, and other professionals. I have found the Massachusetts Digest a tremendous index of the leading cases involving that subject. Then, of course, I go to the texts of the cases themselves, because it is my rule that I will not cite a case unless I have studied it and it is relevant and proves the point.

My daughter, Jill, finds it helpful to organize or join a writer's group, but I have never done so. I am sure that for fiction writers especially, such a group discussion and criticisms are valuable.

Almost every day some friend tells me of a terrific idea and urges me to write on that subject. But I almost never have been able to follow their lead. The idea for an article or story must originate in my own mind or I cannot develop the curiosity or desire to welcome their suggestion.

But never say never. Almost never is all right.

A: If you intend to divide your time between a writing career and the practice of law or any other business, pick a time of day when you can devote your entire energy and attention to writing. Then try, as strictly as you can, to do just that, even if you just sit and stare at the keyboard. I have never suffered from writer's block, in part because I know what I am going to say next. In that way, when I begin to write again, I get started without any delay.

When you have finished writing, go to your other work and devote your entire energy and attention to your career.

A: Once, when a revision of Prima Facie Case was in the hands of the then editor, Kenneth Heimbach, the Massachusetts Legislature enacted the new laws regulating the duties and obligations of physicians in malpractice cases. The editor called me and asked if that chapter could be included in the manuscript. There was a tight deadline, but the material was researched, mailed by snail mail to West, and published in the new edition. In that case, not really a crystal ball, it was a necessary evil.

Sometimes the Supreme Judicial Court will issue a warning (an ultimatum?) to the legislature informing it that if they do not take action, the court will. Clairvoyance is required then. Some action by the court or the legislature is not difficult to predict, but the details are. It is a wait-and-see situation that negates any sensible forecasting, but it is an interesting and enjoyable opportunity to second-guess the outcome.

But don't write it down until it happens.

A: This is the easiest question of all to answer. Technology has made it vastly easier to both research and write.

The first edition of Prima Facie Case I wrote by hand and retyped on four-by-six cards. The text was on manila cards, one card to a paragraph. Footnotes were on pink cards, section headings on green. Completed, the manuscript filled three wooden boxes each four feet long. And that was only for one volume. Today, the entire manuscript of four volumes can be written on a single compact disc.

As for research, I boast to my lawyer friends that I can pull up any statute or any case decided in each of the fifty states on Westlaw in a few seconds, far less time than it would take to pull the books from a library shelf. In earlier days, the same research involved many trips to the Social Law Library in Boston.

My office always prided itself on being first. We had the first copier in the city. We spread out the copies to allow them to dry. We had the first Selectric proportional typewriter with carbon ribbons. When a trial was completed and the judge beckoned to me to approach the bench, I knew the question would be, "What kind of a typewriter do you use?" We even had a machine manufactured by the Johnson Fare Box Company that held cards with teeth on the bottom so that when the client's name was typed on the keyboard, a card would pop up containing vital material for quick reference. It was the only one in Medford, Massachusetts. Repetitive material was stored on a magnetic card called magcard that would print letters and forms repeatedly, and it, too, was the first to appear in our city.

Now we are fully computerized with mortgages, deeds, and all sorts of varied documents spewing out to satisfy each of our banking, mortgage, and other customers individually.

Papers are faxed back and forth even to clients with offices across the street. Technology is wonderful.

A: What a chance you have given me to reminisce! When we established the firm of Bishop and Ahern, the City of Medford's population was just over 60 thousand. There were 11 lawyers, older, but active. We were the young upstarts. Arthur Train, the creator of the Ephraim Tutt stories and the son of a former assistant district attorney and Attorney General in Massachusetts, had written an autobiography entitled My Day in Court. In it, his advice to young lawyers starting their practice was to widen their circle of friends and acquaintances in order to build their practice. I took his advice seriously. I joined a parent/teacher's association and a church group and made a number of close friends, some of them still with me. As the years flew by, I became president of the local Rotary Club and president of the Medford Chamber of Commerce. I served for over 25 years as clerk of the Episcopal Church and the same time on the Board of Trustees of the Medford Lawrence Memorial Hospital, and as attorney for both. I was on the Board of Trustees of the Medford Public Library for the same length of time. These provided all the pleasures of community service. And they developed a very active business as well.

In the early stages of our general practice, we took every kind of case that came along. I remember once giving advice to a farmer client about the practicality of an accident insurance policy he had undertaken. I told him that it covered only injuries or death from a railroad accident, or being struck by a falling object from a dirigible and was hardly worth the $2.50 he paid annually as a premium. My fee for the advice was a bunch of asparagus.

On a bankruptcy matter for a cook who had no assets left after he paid the filing fee, I received a baked stuffed lobster dinner and the recipe for cooking it. My cooking is the subject of jokes to this day, but my guests appreciate my baked stuffed lobster.

Once we took a case involving damage to a client's hardwood floor brought about by a defective floor polish. The settlement consisted of $12.50 and a new and improved bottle of polish. Needless to say, there was no fee at all in this one. But three months later, the client's husband, the captain of a small fishing boat, lost his life as a result of a collision with a freighter at sea. The Massachusetts limit of damages was five thousand dollars, but if the accident occurred more than three miles from the coast, the Death on the High Seas Act applied and there was no limit. It was close. I attended the Navy hearings; we decided it was better not to send divers to the bottom to determine the location of the vessel. The Navy decided in our favor. A Boston lawyer represented the other members of the crew and most of the seamen's unions in the area. He could easily have convinced our client that with his experience and expertise he would be a better choice, but after an interview with him, I heard that he had decided, "Let Dick keep the case. He's one of the good guys." We filed suit in the Federal Court and received a most satisfactory settlement for the widow. For the next year or so, I became the admiralty expert of the area and received calls for help from lawyers in other parts of the state.

In those days, I was in court almost every day, sometimes in more than one. Later, and as I grew older, we brought in a litigator who took my place, and I sat behind a desk probating estates, acting as guardian and conservator for others, and advising clients with respect to wills and handling their estates: the quiet life. But I always remembered the advice that Arthur Train had given to me, and to this day my circle of friends ever widens.

Incidentally, it was Train who wrote in his autobiography in 1939, "I enjoy the dubious distinction of being known among lawyers as a writer, and among writers as a lawyer."

How true.

A: One of the greater influences lawyers faced was the adoption of the various rules of court that have been promulgated in recent years. The whole method of practice from writ and declaration to complaint and service on a defendant overturned years of custom and precedent in the methods of practice and pleading. To some of us it was more than a challenge. It was a revolution.

And that is just one example.

Developments in the caselaw come along almost every week. On the criminal law side, take, for instance, the change in rape cases from fresh complaint to first complaint and in the civil area the present battle between the executive branch and the judicial branch relating to same-sex marriages. Which side will win that one?

It is always a pleasant experience to read "a case of first impression" in the reports. I try to flag them in the text. They represent the endless vitality of the law and its ability to keep up with the times.

A: There is no doubt that changes will take place as they have in the past. Hopefully, the wisdom of those who are making the changes will be all for the better.

I am 91 years of age. I feel that my mind is still keen and I am still able to practice law and write about it. A few years ago when asking an older friend how he was feeling, his stock answer was, "I am fine. I'm able to sit up and take a little nourishment."

Winston Churchill is reputed to have said, "There is nothing wrong with change, if it is in the right direction."

These seem to be useful philosophies.