The Law We Write vs. The Law We Live blog image cover

The Law We Write vs. The Law We Live

  • 06 March, 2026
  • Adam Freeland

The Law We Write vs. The Law We Live: A Lawyer’s Journey Through Justice, Power, and the American Divide

When people hear that I’m both an attorney and a cattleman, they usually pause. Add “sci-fi author” to the mix, and the look on their face shifts from surprise to curiosity.

My days are rarely the same. One morning I’m in Houston’s courtrooms, navigating the complexities of a particular case with a judge and opposing counsel. By evening, I’m walking the pastures in East Texas, making sure the herd is safe and healthy. And at night? I step into another universe altogether—the universe of Order is Violence.

It’s a strange balance, but I believe creativity thrives when it’s shaped by different worlds. The courtroom teaches me about conflict and resolution, the ranch keeps me grounded, and writing lets me explore what lies beyond human limits.

Now I wasn't always able to achieve this kind of harmony. I grew up in the deep south. Louisiana, in fact. The heel of the boot. I read To Kill a Mocking Bird, A Streetcar Named Desire, Great Gatsby, and The Color Purple early in school. I learned about written injustice framed as fiction, but understood there was something real and unspoken behind those pages. Someone suffered to invoke that muse. The writers were called to highlight a section of life that is uglier than we dare name. 

There is a prevailing spirit amongst Americans that a great injustice is being levied against us by our own. Layoffs, non-ideal economic conditions, war, disease, the fear that AI is replacing us, tears in the fabric of our communities instigated by questionable acts and mixed signals from the institutions we are supposed to trust.

There is a great unsettling happening. But there is also something else. People are being seen. They turn to the court systems for redress, to be heard. Younger generations are ever more vocal against injustice. People are reaching out to others to find commonality, still. America's soul, though cracked, convalesces into something greater.

In my law practice, I find that earnestness wins every single battle. Not because every judge agrees with you or every case breaks your way, but because people can still recognize when something real is at stake. They can tell when a person has come forward not to posture, but to stand on the truth as plainly as they know it.

Ranching teaches respect for the Earth and the reality it touches. Writing demands that I face what is real, even when I dress it in the machinery of the future. And the law gives that instinct a place to act. Across all three, the work is the same at its core: pay attention, tell the truth, and do not look away when something important is on the line.

Share:
Older Post Newer Post
Translation missing: en.general.search.loading