Muddy's Newsletter

I’m excited!

My first-ever book is almost finished.

Honestly, I still can’t quite believe I’m writing that sentence.

But first... there’s a story.

A few days ago I finished the manuscript for my new book.

The next night I played one of my regular restaurant gigs.

As I was setting up, it suddenly occurred to me that if I was going to put these ideas out into the world, I ought to start living them myself.

I asked myself,

What did I write that was really true?

What was just theory?

I guess there was only one way to find out.

I pictured myself completely immersed in every tune.

I carried what I can only describe as an inner smile. Not necessarily on my face, but in my mind. I wanted the audience to feel that I was genuinely happy to be there.

The funny thing is, somewhere during the evening, that imagined version of myself became real.

I found myself playing with a freedom I hadn’t felt in a long time. My singing followed right along with it.

What happened, you might ask?

Two little kids were really listening, so I played You’ve Got a Friend in Me just for them.

A little later another table responded.

Then another.

Instead of one big round of applause at the end, the evening became a series of little connections.

Then, just to make me laugh, someone requested Free Bird.

One of the illustrations in my book is an open guitar case with a little card that says “In Case of Emergency.”

Sure enough...

Free Bird was on the list.

Instead of cringing inside, I just smiled and played it. Somewhere along the way, I realized I was actually enjoying it.

Driving home that night, I realized something.

I hadn’t just written this book for other people.

I’d written it for myself.

Writing the book forced me to think about what I really believe about performing.

Then it reminded me to live it.

It isn’t a technical book on vocal technique.

It’s about things like:

• Finding your own voice.

• Connecting with an audience.

• Letting go of perfection.

• Learning from mistakes.

• Reading the room.

• Becoming comfortable on stage.

• Finding joy in performing.

• It’s never too late to start.

• Realizing you never really conquer music—you simply keep learning.

Even if you never plan to sing in front of an audience, I think many of these ideas apply to everyday life.

The manuscript is finished. The illustrations are almost finished. Now comes the fun part—getting it ready to publish.

As a thank-you, my paid subscribers will automatically receive a complimentary copy when it’s ready.

I’d also like to give away several copies to newsletter readers. If you’d like to be considered for one, just leave a comment:

“I’d like to read it.”

I’d love to share this journey with you.

— Alex

I left a few open dates on my calendar so I could take a little road trip over to the coast... just to make sure the ocean is still there.

I’ve also been thinking about the redwoods. I haven’t stood among those giant trees in far too long, so they’re calling me too.

From there, I’m heading to one of my favorite places—Columbia, California—for the annual Big Band Weekend. My friend Rod Harris conducts the Columbia Big Band, and they perform right in the streets of this old Gold Rush town. As far as I know, it’s a tradition that goes back to the World War II era. There will be swing dancing, period costumes, wonderful music, and one of my favorite weekends of the year.

Rod usually lets me sing a couple of tunes with the band, which is always a thrill. There’s nothing quite like standing in front of a twenty-piece big band with all that wonderful sound behind you.

I’ll be sharing photos from the trip and probably a few short stories and observations here in the Notes section.

If you enjoy following along, I’d really appreciate your likes, comments, and conversations. They make this newsletter feel much more like a community than a one-way conversation.

And if you’d like a complimentary copy of the book when it’s published, just leave a comment saying:

“I’d like to read it.”

I’d be happy to send copies to some of the people who’ve been following this journey with me.