If you’ve been charged with a crime, the calendar on your kitchen wall suddenly becomes a character in your story. Days swell and shrink. Weeks fly by until they don’t. I get calls that begin with, “How long is this going to take?” It’s a fair question, and also the wrong one. Time in criminal court doesn’t move like a straight line. It moves like a river after a storm, fast in some sections and logjammed in others. Learning when to push and when to drift saves sanity and sometimes freedom. Here’s how it really works when a criminal defense lawyer looks at timelines.
The first 48 hours feel shorter than a minute
Arrest sets the clock. If you’re in custody, the state has a narrow window to bring you before a judge for a first appearance. In many jurisdictions, that happens within 24 to 48 hours, weekends and holidays making life complicated. This first hearing sets bail, conditions of release, and the charging document you’ll carry like a backpack for the next several months.
I’ve stood next to clients in plastic sandals at 8:15 on a Sunday morning while a judge reads a probable cause statement written during the graveyard shift. Those early decisions can shape everything later. If the prosecutor files a heavier charge than the facts support, we start with the boulder uphill. If bail is set too high, the rest of the case competes with a defendant’s rent, job, children, and health. Every hour you spend in custody increases pressure to make fast choices. That pressure is part of the system, not an accident.
Speed matters here, but precision matters more. Calling a lawyer early is not about magic words. It’s about steering the first choices: correcting errors in the probable cause narrative, offering the judge verified employment or housing information, flagging medical needs, and setting a tone that says, we are organized and we are watching.
After charges, the pace fractures
People imagine court as one continuous march. It’s more like seasons. The pretrial season holds several distinct phases, each with its own tempo.
Arraignment comes first. You enter a plea, usually not guilty, regardless of what the police report says. This is not denial. It preserves rights and gives breathing room. Then the case shifts to discovery, the exchange of evidence. The government holds most of the cards in the beginning: reports, body-camera footage, lab results, recorded interviews. The defense has obligations too, but they are narrower, and strategic. This is where the stopwatch turns into a calendar, because discovery is rarely complete when a court wants it to be.
I’ve had cases where the state filed 12 gigabytes of video two days before a hearing, then pressed for a quick resolution. Reading every line and watching every minute is not optional. Missing the 47th minute on the second body-cam video is how you miss the neighbor who contradicts an officer without realizing it. Good defense work consumes time with purpose.
Meanwhile, the court sets status conferences to check on progress. These dates keep cases moving, but they can also create artificial urgency. Judges prefer tidy dockets. Prosecutors dislike dusty files. You, however, have one job: a correct outcome. Don’t let the calendar bully you into choices your lawyer hasn’t fully tested.
The paradox of “speedy” rights
You’ve heard of the right to a speedy trial. It exists for a reason. The state can’t keep a charge looming forever while your life sits on blocks. But speed and justice are not synonyms. In many places, the speedy trial clock starts at arraignment and runs for a set number of days, often with exclusions for valid delays. If you’re in custody, the runway is shorter. If you’re out, it lengthens.
Waiving time is one of the hardest conversations I have. Clients think I want the case to take longer. I don’t. I want the case to be winnable or triage-able. Lab backlogs, expert analyses, subpoena returns, and witness location all take time. Even something simple like pulling cell-site data can stretch from weeks to months. If we force a trial date before those pieces fall into place, we bring a knife to a gunfight.
Still, speedy rights have teeth. If the state drifts or fails to act, a firm defense lawyer can hold the clock against them. I’ve won dismissals when the government slept on its obligations. Those wins require careful tracking, written objections, and a record that shows the delay is not on us. Strategy lives in that tension: take time when it helps you, enforce speed when it hurts them.
Discovery is a marathon disguised as an email
The file looks big because it is. Police reports might arrive quickly, but the guts often lag. Body-cam and dash-cam video, 911 recordings, CAD logs, surveillance footage from nearby businesses, forensic downloads, breath or blood lab reports, and chain-of-custody documents arrive in spurts. Each item can change strategy.
For example, I once received an audio clip from a secondary 911 call that contradicted the primary witness on a crucial point: who started the fight. That clip was buried in a supplemental batch sent five weeks after arraignment. The case moved from likely plea to likely trial in a single email. If we had folded early, that evidence would never have mattered.
Expect rolling deliveries. Expect redactions https://pastelink.net/g0m0gtn5 that make sense in some places and not in others. Expect to ask for things more than once. A thorough criminal defense lawyer keeps a discovery ledger. Not a mental list, a tangible one. We track requests, responses, gaps, and follow-ups. When the state says, “We already gave you that,” we can point to dates and filenames. That recordkeeping isn’t sexy, but it wins motions and forces compliance.
Motions are the gears that turn the timeline
Law and facts meet through motions. Suppressing evidence, compelling disclosure, excluding a witness, changing venue, or dismissing a count all happen through written pleadings and hearings. Motions require time to draft, argue, and decide. They impose structure on the case, and they teach the judge who is doing the careful work.
Timing matters. File too soon and you might miss crucial facts. File too late and you might be stuck with a ruling that could have gone your way. The motion schedule often sets the path to trial. Judges like to resolve evidentiary issues before a jury arrives. That means they set briefing deadlines and hearing dates. Every one of those dates pushes the trial window forward.
Here’s the trick: not every motion needs a hearing, and not every hearing needs to be a fistfight. Some motions are signals. They tell the prosecutor, we see the weak beam in your house. Sometimes, that prompts a better offer. Sometimes, it sharpens their case. Either way, the calendar shifts in response. This is why your lawyer might recommend filing now, then asking for a short continuance later to accommodate new discovery. It looks like delay. It’s actually leverage.
Trials are scheduled. Then they aren’t. Then they are. Maybe.
Every defense lawyer has lived the “two days before trial the prosecutor calls” moment. Witnesses change their minds. Victims recover memories or lose patience. Lab techs take vacations. Judges reassign cases because an older one is older still. Trial dates slip more than ice on a hot roof.
When a case actually goes, be ready for half-days and sidebars that chew through hours. Juror schedules dictate breaks that don’t align with logic or momentum. Legal arguments happen outside the jury’s earshot, and those arguments can take as long as a short film. Time in trial expands and collapses with every objection. That’s normal.
On a more practical level, trial preparation is the steepest part of the mountain. We build witness outlines, draft exhibits, practice cross-examinations, and simulate jury instructions. If experts are involved, we schedule prep sessions to work through jargon and timing. I once spent two hours with a DNA analyst on the cadence of a single explanation about allele drop-out. That two hours saved us two days at trial.
If the case doesn’t go to trial, don’t assume wasted effort. Trial prep sharpens valuation. It reveals the true contour of risk. Strong prep also moves plea negotiations into adulthood. A prosecutor who sees your binders color-coded and tabbed reads the room differently than one who sees you juggling loose papers.
Plea negotiations live on their own calendar
Plea talks can happen early, late, or not at all. Some prosecutors pitch a deal at arraignment. Others refuse to discuss anything until discovery closes and motions finish. The right time to negotiate depends on what we need to know.
There are seasons for leverage. Early leniency sometimes evaporates when a victim becomes more vocal or a supervisor takes an interest. Late pleadings can benefit from fatigue on the government side, especially in crowded dockets, but they also risk worse terms if the state invests time and doesn’t want to feel like it’s letting sunk costs evaporate.
A good criminal defense lawyer does not negotiate by vibes. We set targets based on comparable cases, statutory ranges, collateral consequences, and the story a judge is likely to hear at sentencing. We also talk about your life, not as a pity plea, but as context: employment, family responsibilities, mental health treatment, restitution capacity. Those factors need documentation. Gathering that takes time. Letters from employers, proof of counseling, confirmation of community service, restitution payment plans all help, and all require a few weeks to assemble with credibility.
Sentencing dates are not the finish line
Let’s say you accept a deal or the jury returns a verdict. Sentencing rarely happens immediately in serious cases. Pre-sentence investigations take weeks. Probation officers interview you, call references, and write reports. Your lawyer gathers mitigation: school records, medical records, expert opinions on treatment options, letters from people who know your character beyond one bad night.
Judges read more than they admit. I have watched a judge shift posture after a single page summarized childhood trauma and adult recovery with specificity. Not excuses, context. The timing of this package matters. Judges have busy calendars; materials sent a day before the hearing risk getting skimmed at best. We aim for delivery a week in advance, with copies to the prosecutor, then a focused oral presentation that frames the judge’s choices in practical terms.
And after sentencing, the timeline can keep going. Appeals have tight filing windows. Post-conviction motions have their own clocks. Probation has compliance calendars. If you owe restitution, payment schedules control plenty of Saturdays. The case isn’t just the verdict. It’s the year after as well.
Why some cases resolve quickly and others linger
You’ll see two neighbors charged with similar crimes have wildly different timelines. One wraps up in three months. The other drags for a year. That discrepancy has reasons:
- Complexity of evidence and issues: multiple witnesses, expert testimony, forensic testing, surveillance, or encrypted data stretch schedules. Custody status: defendants out of custody typically face longer timelines because courts prioritize in-custody cases. Prosecutorial policy and staffing: changes in leadership, office turnover, or heavy trial calendars push dates. Judge assignment: some judges move dockets briskly, others give breathing room for motion practice. Defense strategy: a deliberate plan to litigate key issues takes longer than a quick plea, and that time can pay off in charge reductions or dismissals.
None of these factors are excuses. They are conditions. Your lawyer can lean into or away from them, but cannot wish them out of existence. Understanding them is the difference between panic and patience.
Emergencies, shortcuts, and the price of both
Criminal cases occasionally present true emergencies: a deportation hold triggered by a conviction code, a protective order strangling a client’s housing, a professional license at risk if a plea contains a nasty adjective. When time and life collide, we triage. That might mean seeking an emergency hearing to modify conditions of release or fast-tracking negotiations at the cost of a little leverage.
Shortcuts have prices. A quick plea that avoids jail but brands the offense in a way that kills a career is not a bargain. Likewise, a stubborn insistence on litigating every issue when the evidence is overwhelming can waste capital with the judge and prosecutor, which you will want when it’s time to argue for mercy. The art is choosing where to spend your minutes and where to invest your weeks.
What you can do to help the clock help you
Clients ask how to move things along without losing ground. The list is short and concrete.
- Be organized and responsive: when your lawyer asks for documents, provide them early and complete. Delays often start at the kitchen drawer level. Stay reachable and show up: missed calls and missed court create new problems that cost time and goodwill. Follow conditions of release: violations, even minor ones, slow everything and poison negotiations. Keep a private journal: dates, names, and small details fade fast. Notes taken now become memory anchors later. Be honest about goals: if your priority is immigration safety, say so. If it’s protecting a professional license, say that. Strategy and timing shift based on what matters most to you.
That’s it. Nothing fancy, all practical. You can’t control the lab queue, but you can control whether the judge sees you as reliable. Reliability pays dividends on the calendar.
A note about bail and the timeline gravity well
Custody changes everything. A case with a detained client moves like it has a siren. Courts set earlier status dates, prosecutors move discovery faster, and judges are more likely to police the government’s delays. That can be good, but it can also squeeze defense prep. I’ve asked for time extensions in detention cases precisely because a rapid-fire schedule favors the party with more staff and automatic access to evidence.
On the other hand, getting out early releases pressure valves. Family stability returns, and your lawyer has more flexibility to schedule expert meetings and locate witnesses. If posting bail is possible without wrecking finances, it often buys better outcomes. If it isn’t, we lean on the court to recognize that speed without completeness is not fairness, and we put that on the record every time a deadline threatens substance.
Bench time versus hallway time
If you’ve never been to criminal court, you might picture hours of dramatic argument. The truth: much of your day is spent in the hallway. Lawyers whisper, trade proposals, and check in with victims or officers. Judges handle dozens of cases in an hour, each with a quick setting or ruling. Your actual minutes before the bench might be five. The rest is maneuvering that doesn’t show on the transcript.
This is frustrating until you realize hallway time is where progress often happens. If your lawyer ducks out to find a prosecutor who is spread across three courtrooms, that’s not avoidance. That’s the work. It can take three passes and two cups of bad coffee. Justice sometimes smells like burnt beans and floor cleaner. Pack patience.
The myth of the magic date
Clients want a calendar square to circle. Birthdays, weddings, vacations all anchor life. Court does not care. The date that matters is the one that aligns preparation, evidence, and leverage. Sometimes that is next Tuesday. More often it is the date after we finally receive the lab’s chromatograms and cross-check them with calibration logs that took a subpoena to pry loose.
When I give a range rather than a date, I’m not dodging. I’m building a realistic window that accounts for the pieces we don’t control. If we finish earlier, wonderful. If something slides, we won’t fall off a cliff. Partial control beats false certainty every time.
Stories from the clock face
A shoplifting case resolved in 19 days because the store’s loss prevention video was crisp, the report clean, my client had no record, and the prosecutor offered pretrial diversion with a theft class and community service. We front-loaded the mitigation, collected receipts for returned items, and closed the loop before the month ended. Quick worked, because quick did not sacrifice substance.
Contrast that with a DUI blood case that took 14 months. The lab delayed initial results for 10 weeks, the state forgot to disclose maintenance logs for the centrifuge, and an analyst changed jobs halfway through. We filed a motion to suppress based on chain-of-custody gaps. It took two hearings, but the judge excluded the blood result. The state recalibrated, offered a reckless driving plea, and my client kept a commercial license. That outcome required time and irritation. Worth it.
I’ve also watched fast turn into foolish. A client wanted to plead at the first hearing to “get it over with.” The discovery later showed a Fourth Amendment issue on the traffic stop. If we had raced, a twelve-month probation would have felt cheap, right up until the permanent record showed a conviction that derailed a professional certification. Waiting six weeks bought a dismissal.
Technology helps, but it doesn’t bend time
File portals, electronic discovery, and video conferencing shave minutes around the edges. They don’t replace the hours of human judgment that go into decisions. Body-cam review still takes as long as the video runs, and credibility still takes as long as it takes to verify. A criminal defense lawyer uses technology to reduce friction, not to skip steps. When someone promises a “fast fix,” consider what corners they’re rounding and whether those corners are yours to lose.
The quiet calendar you don’t see
Parallel to the court dates is the calendar of investigation. Defense teams schedule witness interviews at times that people with jobs and children can manage. We coordinate expert consultations based on availability that might be weeks out. Subpoenas have return dates. Private investigators file reports that lead to second and third interviews. These tasks rarely appear on the judge’s calendar. They live in ours. They are the bones under the skin.
When you ask, “What’s happening this month?” the answer may sound mundane: waiting on phone records, following up with a pharmacist, transcribing a recorded interview with poor audio. These are the bricks in the wall. Without them, you have posture without structure.
How to live with the waiting
The waiting is the hardest part, and it eats your attention. A few habits help.
Keep life moving where you can. Work if you can work. Show up for family. Take a class. Judges and prosecutors see defendants as a snapshot. Give them a better picture. If you’re fighting addiction, get into a program. If you need counseling, start now. These steps help you, first, and also hand your lawyer something concrete for negotiations or sentencing.
Ask for updates, but not daily. Agree with your lawyer on a rhythm, maybe weekly or every two weeks. Trust that silence often means work, not neglect. When a major change happens, you will hear about it. When nothing has moved, you’ll still get a check-in. Communication is part of the job.
And be kind to yourself. Legal time tries to convince you that your life is on pause. It isn’t. It’s just in a season that requires endurance.
What a realistic timeline can look like
No two cases match, but a middle-of-the-road misdemeanor with no lab work might run three to four months from arraignment to resolution. A felony with expert issues and contested motions can run nine to eighteen months. Add appeals and you can tack on another six months to a year.
Inside those ranges, spikes occur. Quick hearings. Long gaps. Sudden opportunities. Unwelcome detours. A good criminal defense lawyer spends energy forecasting these patterns and steering toward the dates that set you up for the best result, even if that date isn’t the earliest one on the calendar.
Final thought from the trenches
Time is a tool. If you let it, it becomes a tyrant. The system will push, pull, and occasionally trip you. Your defense team’s job is to use time as leverage, not let it use you as ballast. Ask the questions, track the dates, and help with the pieces only you can supply. When someone promises speed, ask what you gain and what you give. When someone counsels patience, ask what the time buys.
Cases end. They all do. The trick is getting to that end with your record, your rights, and your life arranged as well as the facts allow. That takes work and it takes calendar pages. It’s not a straight line, but it is a path. Walk it with eyes open, and with a lawyer who knows when to accelerate and when to brake.
Law Offices Of Michael Dreishpoon
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Phone: +1 718-793-5555
Experienced Criminal Defense & Personal Injury Representation in NYC and Queens
At The Law Offices of Michael Dreishpoon, we provide aggressive legal representation for clients facing serious criminal charges and personal injury matters. Whether you’ve been arrested for domestic violence, drug possession, DWI, or weapons charges—or injured in a car accident, construction site incident, or slip and fall—we fight to protect your rights and pursue the best possible outcome. Serving Queens and the greater NYC area with over 25 years of experience, we’re ready to stand by your side when it matters most.