As a pupil barrister, Alex Williams was enticed away from his law career by a Hollywood dream. He offers advice to others looking to step away from the profession

Most lawyers, at some point in their careers, fantasise about leaving law and doing something else with their lives. Which is odd, given how much hard work goes into becoming a lawyer in the first place. You spend years studying and training to get in, only to find yourself wondering what it would be like to get out.

In 1995, I was a pupil barrister at the Bar, doing mostly low-level work in provincial county courts, when Hollywood came calling. I should add that prior to becoming a barrister I had worked briefly as a film animator. I even took a year off during university to work on the film Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Fun work, but not a serious career – not until 1994, that is.

In 1994, The Lion King was a huge hit, and suddenly every studio in Los Angeles wanted animators. In the summer of 1996 I finally surrendered, left the Bar and went to Los Angeles. That was 15 years ago, and I still wonder how life would have turned out if I had remained a lawyer.

I grew up with animation. My father is an animator – for years he had his own studio in Soho. Many of my earliest memories are of him working at his animation desk in the basement of our family house. At school I had the coolest dad – other kids had parents who were accountants and doctors, but mine drew the cartoons you saw on the telly. You couldn't get much cooler than that.

I loved animation and after leaving school did an art foundation course at Camberwell School of Arts. I even picked up freelance jobs doing animated commercials and was able to – more or less – pay my way through university. But it is a tough business – contracts are short and there is little job security – so after graduation I decided to get something that looked more like a stable career. The Bar seemed perfect: well paid, respectable and you could even go back to school to study, therefore delaying for a while the business of actually getting a job.

I liked the idea of the Bar; there is something very agreeable about working in the Temple. It has the feel of an overgrown Oxford college, and I loved the wigs and gowns; they make you feel so very important.

To help pay for my legal studies, I found work in LA during the summer holidays where I helped out on feature films. I also started the 'Queen's Counsel' cartoon strip in The Times at the same time. So even though I was embarking on a legal career, I was still hedging my bets and keeping my drawing hand in the pot.

Being a pupil barrister is tough. You have to pull off appearing completely inoffensive and at the same time stand out from the crowd. Even if you succeed in winning a tenancy, there is a good deal of drudge work at the bottom of the Bar, for which you are badly paid and very grateful. I did pro bono work for the Free Representation Unit, which I loved – I felt like Robin Hood, taking on big corporations for little old ladies who were fired after 40 years of service. Best of all, it gets you out of chambers, and it is advocacy experience far away from the critical gaze of your pupil master. Mistakes in an FRU case don't count. Or at least, not as much. And no-one is watching you if they do.

But it was a strange feeling receiving phone calls from Los Angeles asking, "Why don't you come and live in LA?" while I argued about bent metal in Colchester County Court. In 1994, The Lion King made almost a billion dollars for Disney, and suddenly being an animator was – briefly – extremely glamorous.

Warner Brothers flew me to LA and even sent a stretch limo to meet me at the airport. I felt like a movie star. For about a year I said "no", or rather, "not yet" while I endlessly dithered. Should I stay? Should I go? Everyone said go – how could I not? But I knew it was a major fork in the road and that there would be no turning back. I would get off the legal career track at my own peril; like the London property market, you can only sell up and leave once.

In the end, I left. I couldn't stand the sense of missed opportunity if I didn't take it. And yet there I was, staring at a job for life in an excellent set of chambers in the most privileged of professions – and turning it down.

I went to LA for 10 years, where I worked on various films for Disney, Warner Brothers, Sony and other studios. I lived in a rickety wooden house in the Hollywood Hills with a view of orange smoggy sunsets. It was great, and yet in some ways, soulless.

I have been back in London for three years now, working in Soho, doing visual effects work on various Hollywood projects. I love being home. I always felt like a stranger in LA and here I'm a native; I fit in.

Leaving law was probably the hardest decision I have ever made. The Bar is undoubtedly a fine career, but I love what I do for a living now. As a lawyer, my personal situation was unusual in that I was being pulled powerfully in an alternative direction, so I suppose I left because, in the end, I had something I wanted to do more. But if the studios hadn't made it easy for me, I wouldn't have done it. If they hadn't sent the stretch limo, I'd probably still be in Colchester County Court arguing about road traffic accidents.

So what advice would I give to anyone who wants to leave?

• First, find whatever it is you are really passionate about. It must be something that you really love, something that will sustain you when you start to question why you ever did it.
• Try to get some experience before you jump. Of course that's easier said than done – law is a consuming career and the hours can be brutal. But you have to be sure that the next step is the right one.
• Leave on good terms. You never know when you will need your former colleagues' goodwill. My chambers kindly offered to have me back if I changed my mind, at least for a year or two. I didn't go back, but I was glad of the safety net – though ultimately gladder still that I didn't need it.
• Try to take advantage of your legal expertise in your new field. Being able to draft an agreement and negotiate a deal has been an invaluable skill. Most artists I know are terrified of contracts – many don't even read them.
• Be financially prudent. Build up a war chest before you jump.
• Think long term. A new career takes a while to build up. Don't expect immediate results. For me, building a whole new network of friends and colleagues took a long effort.
• Be wary, and don't leave on a whim. A career in law tends to get better over time. At the bottom of the heap the work can be drudgery, but hang in for long enough and the rewards can be huge.

Alex Williams left the law in 1996 for a career in film animation in Hollywood. Since then he has worked on about 25 feature films including The Lion King and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. His latest book of cartoons, 101 Ways To Leave The Law, is out now.