
There’s a cartoon floating around social media called “The Graveyard of Past Deadlines.”
For most people, it’s funny. For court reporters, it’s uncomfortably real.
Unlike many professions, ours doesn’t have the luxury of “getting to it when we get to it.” In court reporting, deadlines aren’t just calendar entries — they’re legal obligations, sometimes tied directly to someone’s right to appeal, or to the outcome of a case. When you miss one, it’s not just a missed date. It’s a professional crisis.
The Unforgiving World of Transcript Deadlines
Every transcript has a clock ticking the moment you take down the record. Some are generous — 8, days, 10 days, 30, 60, even 90 days. Others? You might have hours.
- Appeals: The appeal clock waits for no one. When appellate rules say “filed in 30 days,” there’s no asterisk for “unless your scopist is behind” or “unless your software crashed.”
- Expedited Orders: Two-day, overnight, or “need it by tomorrow morning for closing arguments” — expedites are the sprints of our profession.
- Dailies: The ultimate pressure cooker. Take testimony all day, turn in a polished transcript before the next morning. Repeat until verdict.
- Regular Workload: Even standard 30-day trial transcripts pile up fast if you have multiple trials, depos, or hearings in the same month.
The thing about deadlines in court reporting is they don’t arrive one at a time, neatly spaced out. They stack, overlap, and multiply. And when one is late, it snowballs.
The Human Cost of Deadlines
Reporters don’t just rearrange their work schedules to meet a deadline — we rearrange our lives.
Date nights are postponed. Vacations are canceled. Kids’ performances and games are missed. Family time is often reduced to a wave from the doorway as we lock ourselves in our offices, headsets on, fingers flying.
We do this because deadlines matter. And yet, the sting comes when you find out the transcript you raced to finish was never urgent to begin with — it sat on an agency’s desk for a week, or the requesting attorney was on vacation the whole time. Our sacrifices are real, even when the rush turns out to be for nothing.
When the System Breaks Down
Many reporters rely on scopists and proofreaders to meet these impossible timelines. But what happens when your trusted scopist starts missing their deadlines?
I’ve had it happen. The final straw was a transcript due in two days that came back — wait for it — 30 days later. By the time I got it, the due date wasn’t just in the rearview mirror. It was over the horizon.
When your support team drops the ball:
- You’re left scrambling to finish the job yourself.
- You may have to pull all-nighters to salvage the deadline.
- Your professional reputation — and sometimes your license — is suddenly on the line.
The Ethical and Legal Stakes
For court reporters, deadlines aren’t just about client satisfaction. They’re codified in:
- Court rules (often strict, especially in appellate cases)
- State licensing requirements
- Contracts with attorneys, agencies, or courts
Missed deadlines can mean:
- Sanctions from the court
- Loss of work from attorneys or agencies who can’t risk delays
- Professional discipline from your state’s licensing board
- Harm to litigants, especially if an appeal is dismissed for a late transcript
This is why most reporters live in a near-constant state of triage, juggling multiple jobs and timelines while keeping their accuracy uncompromised.
Survival in the Deadline Jungle
Court reporters develop almost military-grade systems to stay ahead:
- Color-coded deadline calendars for each case.
- Daily progress quotas (pages per day to stay on track).
- Backup scopists who can be called in for emergencies.
- Cloud backups and redundant hardware to prevent tech disasters.
- Firm policies with scopists and proofreaders about turnaround times.
Still, even the best system can crumble when one cog in the wheel fails.
The Lesson
In this profession, deadlines are not suggestions. They are binding, immovable, and often life-altering for the people whose cases we report.
As court reporters, we don’t just produce transcripts — we hold the record that justice relies on. Meeting deadlines isn’t optional; it’s part of the integrity of the job.
So, when you find yourself staring into “The Graveyard of Past Deadlines,” remember: every transcript is a ticking clock, every missed date a potential landmine. Protect your schedule, guard your reputation, and choose your team wisely.
Because in court reporting, you can be the fastest writer in the world — but if your transcript isn’t on time, the record is meaningless.
StenoImperium
Court Reporting. Unfiltered. Unafraid.
Disclaimer
“This article includes analysis and commentary based on observed events, public records, and legal statutes.”
The content of this post is intended for informational and discussion purposes only. All opinions expressed herein are those of the author and are based on publicly available information, industry standards, and good-faith concerns about nonprofit governance and professional ethics. No part of this article is intended to defame, accuse, or misrepresent any individual or organization. Readers are encouraged to verify facts independently and to engage constructively in dialogue about leadership, transparency, and accountability in the court reporting profession.
- The content on this blog represents the personal opinions, observations, and commentary of the author. It is intended for editorial and journalistic purposes and is protected under the First Amendment of the United States Constitution.
- Nothing here constitutes legal advice. Readers are encouraged to review the facts and form independent conclusions.
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