Books / Anyone Can Become a Lawyer / Don't Study for the LSAT Yet

Don't Study for the LSAT Yet

Anyone Can Become a Lawyer  ·  Chapter 6 of 15  ·  9 min read  ·  by Steve Schwartz
Buying an LSAT prep book freshman year wastes your money, your energy, and your best practice tests. The LSAT is a skill you peak at the right moment, not facts you stockpile for years, and official practice tests are finite. Serious prep starts roughly 12 to 18 months before you'd start law school. Until then, build the reasoning for free in your hardest classes, and leave the official tests alone.

Buying an LSAT book freshman year is like buying running shoes for a marathon 3 years out. Build the legs first.

Every so often an eager freshman tells me, proudly, that they’ve already bought a big LSAT prep book to get a head start. I tell them to put it back on the shelf. Not because the book is bad, but because the timing turns a good tool into a waste, and sometimes into the first step toward burning out on a test they won’t take for years.

This is the move two chapter, and it opens with a refusal, because the most common mistake here is doing the right thing at the wrong time.

The belief that wastes your money and your energy

The wrong idea sounds responsible: “start LSAT prep as early as possible.” More runway, more prep, more points, right?

No. The LSAT isn’t a pile of facts you build up over years. It’s a skill you peak at the right moment. Prep works in a tight window near the test, when you can build to a sharp edge and then take it while you’re sharp. Start three years out and one of two things happens. You grind for a while, get bored or overwhelmed because there’s no test in sight, and quit feeling like you already failed. Or you learn some of it, then forget most of it by the time it counts, and re-learn it later anyway. Either way you spent energy and probably money on reps that don’t carry.

Worse, the official practice tests are finite. There are only so many real ones, and they’re your most valuable prep material. Burning them as a sophomore “to see where I am” wastes your best tests, the ones you’ll want later, fresh, when they can tell you something.

Think about how you’d train for anything physical. You don’t peak months early and then sit around. You build a base, then sharpen close to the event. The LSAT works the same way. The base, the reasoning, you build slowly over years. The sharpening, the timed strategy and the test-day mechanics, you do in a tight block near the test, while it’s still sharp on the day. Peak too early and you’re flat when it counts. So “more prep, sooner” is the wrong instinct. It confuses the base with the sharpening.

What does compound, and where it’s built

Here’s the part that flips the whole thing. Something underneath the LSAT does build over years, and it builds for free. Just not the test prep. The reasoning.

The LSAT, underneath the format, measures a way of thinking: reading a dense argument and seeing its structure, finding the assumption holding it up, spotting where it breaks. Two of its three scored sections are Logical Reasoning, exactly that skill on short arguments. The third is Reading Comprehension, the same skill on long, dense passages. That underlying habit, reading for the argument instead of the words, takes years to build and only months to convert into a score. (The conversion itself, the timed mechanics and the strategy, is the whole job of Anyone Can Beat the LSAT, when you’re about a year out. I’m not going to re-teach it here.)

So the smart version of “getting a head start” isn’t prep. It’s building the reasoning the prep will later sharpen. And you build it in your classes, every week, for years, without paying anyone. That’s the next chapter in full. For now, just trust the order. Reasoning first, in college. Prep later, in a tight window.

What the wasted year actually looks like

Make the cost concrete. A sophomore buys a big prep book and a question bank, feels responsible, and spends two or three hours a week on it for a year. Add it up. That’s over a hundred hours, plus the money, and at the end she’s burned out on a test she won’t take for two more years, has forgotten most of what she drilled, and has used up a chunk of the official practice tests she’ll wish she had fresh later. Now picture those same hundred hours pointed where they build up: a harder, reading-heavy course load, the in-class habit, one real record-builder. One version spent the year and got tired. The other spent it and got stronger, on the GPA, the mind, and the record at once. Same hours, opposite results, and the only difference was aiming them at what pays at her stage.

Ask someone who just did it

The people who scored high and got in rarely say “I started prepping freshman year.” They say some version of “the test rewarded how I already read and thought, and I got good at that in school.” A recent admit I worked with put it plainly. The year of focused prep mattered, but it was sharpening reasoning that four years of hard reading had already built. The classmates who tried to brute-force the test late, without that base, hit a wall the prep couldn’t fix in time. Listen to the people one step ahead of you, not the ones selling you something. The consistent message from the ones who made it is that the LSAT is built on a skill, the skill takes years and costs nothing, and the prep is the last mile, not the whole road.

What early prep actually costs you

Let me put real costs on the table, because “it’s a waste” is easy to wave off. Money: a serious course or tutor runs into the hundreds or thousands, and bought three years early it’s mostly spent on skills you’ll have to rebuild anyway. Time: the hours you’d sink into drilling now are stolen from the two things that build up at this stage, your GPA and the in-class reasoning habit. And morale: there’s no faster way to learn to dread a test than to grind it with no test in sight, no progress to feel, and no deadline to make it matter. I’ve watched eager sophomores prep themselves into hating the LSAT a full two years before they had to take it. That’s the worst outcome of all, because dread is the one thing that reliably lowers scores. Save the money, save the hours, and save your relationship with the test for when it counts.

When prep actually starts

Roughly a year out from when you want to apply. That’s the window where formal prep pays off, when you can build to a peak and take the test while you’re at it. Until then, your LSAT job is small and specific: keep taking classes that make you read hard and argue, and leave the official tests and the heavy prep books alone.

When the window comes, you hand off to the LSAT book and the real plan starts. With three years of trained reasoning behind you, prep is a polish job. Come to it cold and it’s a rescue. Same test, very different experience, decided by what you did in the years nobody told you mattered.

The one thing that’s fine to do early

There’s a narrow exception, so you don’t take “don’t prep” too literally. Sitting down once with a handful of official questions, just to see what the test is like, is fine and even useful, the same way reading what lawyers produce is useful. It’s a look around, not training. Spend an hour, satisfy your curiosity, confirm the test is a reasoning game and not a knowledge dump, then close the book. What you don’t do is turn that hour into a routine, start tracking scores, or burn through official tests you’ll want fresh later. One look, no regimen. Learning what the test is, fine, anytime. Trying to get good at it, only when prep season comes.

From the coaching file. Maya is a 1L now, and she laughs about the prep book she bought sophomore year. She did about 20 pages, felt swamped, quit, and spent the next year quietly convinced she was “behind on the LSAT.” She wasn’t behind on anything. What actually moved her, when prep time really came, was that she’d loaded up on discussion-heavy, writing-heavy classes in the meantime, the kind that forced her to argue and defend a position weekly. By the time she opened a prep plan for real, about a year before applying, the reasoning was already there. The prep just put it in test-day form. Her words: “I wasted forty bucks and a year of worrying. The stuff that helped was free and I was already doing it.”

Do this now: 10 minutes

Two parts, both easy.

First, if you’ve already bought heavy LSAT prep materials, shelve them, guilt-free, with a note in your phone for the year you’ll actually need them. You didn’t waste anything if you stop now.

Second, look at next term’s schedule and find at least one class that will force you to read hard arguments and defend your own, a discussion seminar, a writing-intensive course, a professor known for cold-calling. That class is your real LSAT prep this year, and it counts toward The Number and The Record at the same time. Sign up for it.

What building the mind looks like, without prep

So what does “build the reasoning in class” actually look like across a few years? Concretely: freshman year, take the writing-intensive version of a requirement instead of the multiple-choice one. Sophomore year, add a logic or philosophy course, the kind that makes you diagram arguments, plus a class with weekly reading responses. Junior year, take the seminar everyone avoids because the professor cold-calls and the papers are brutal. None of that is LSAT prep, and all of it is. By the time you sit down with an actual prep plan a year out, you’ve spent three years doing the underlying skill, reading hard arguments and defending your own, until it’s second nature. That student walks into prep needing to learn the test’s format and timing. The student who skipped it walks in needing to learn how to think, which is a much longer and more expensive project to start at 22.

What to do with the itch to start

If you’re the type who wants to start now, good, that energy is worth something, just aim it at the right target. Every ounce of “I want to get ahead on the LSAT” should go into the in-class habit from the next chapter: take the harder, reading-heavy course, read for the argument, write the tighter paper. That is getting ahead on the LSAT. It just doesn’t look like it, because it’s free and disguised as coursework. The student who does that for three years and then preps for a focused stretch beats the one who bought the book at 18 and burned out by 20. Channel the itch into the reasoning. The prep comes later, and it comes easier.

What “about a year out” actually means

So you can plan it: serious prep starts roughly 12 to 18 months before you’d start law school, because you apply the fall before you’d enroll, and you want your score in hand before you apply. Work backward. Pick when you want to begin school, count back about a year to when applications open, and start focused prep a few months before that. For a lot of people that lands in junior year or the summer after. The exact months shift with your plan and the test calendar, so confirm current dates when you get there. The principle doesn’t move. Build the mind for years, prep in a focused block that peaks right before you take the test, then apply with the score already done.

KEEP THESE 3

So if the reasoning gets built in your classes, the obvious next question is how. Which habits, which courses, which moves turn ordinary coursework into the mind the LSAT pays for. That’s the next chapter, and it ends with a drill you can run tonight.

Watch: LSAT Prep As A Sophomore?
LSAT Prep As A Sophomore? - video by Steve Schwartz
LSAT Prep As A Sophomore?
Every printable instrument in this book also lives in the free Long Game Toolkit. Tell us where to send it at unpluggedprep.com/books and keep it next to you while you work.
Want the short version of the whole system? The free LSAT cheat sheet is it.
Get the free cheat sheet
Want a coach to walk you through this in your own prep? Book your free LSAT tutoring lesson
Steve Schwartz, LSAT coach
This chapter is from Anyone Can Become a Lawyer by Steve Schwartz, LSAT Coach and Founder of LSAT Unplugged. I've been coaching the LSAT since 2005.
Published July 28, 2026.