There are those do-or-die moments in life, when you’ve got a great opportunity and you don’t want to blow it, when you whisper to yourself, OK, don’t let this be the time I mess up. We all have them, right?

I had one of those moments about three years ago, and I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was walking down Third Avenue in New York City to meet the editor in chief of a publishing company to pitch my new book, Between Trapezes. It was only a 15-minute walk, but I was getting more uptight with every block. This was a good publisher, and I really wanted them to buy my book. I mean, I knew I liked them, but would this editor like me? Maybe she would think the book was too personal. Maybe she would find my humor too much or my style too flamboyant. Editors are picky people. How could I persuade this one to pick me? I was driving myself crazy.

Then I remembered the story of one of Fred Astaire’s first Hollywood auditions. Years later they found the studio’s notes: “Can’t sing.… Can dance a little.” Well, that didn’t stop him, did it? He just kept dancing, kept singing, and, eventually, kept knocking ’em dead. I could hear him singing, “Things are looking up! It’s a great little world we live in!” I wondered where you get that kind of conviction, that you’re exactly the right person to take the room, get the part, knock ’em dead? I bet it’s from the music, I thought. Music has always given us courage and spurred us to go the distance. Has any country or band of brothers or sisters ever gone into battle without a song? The bagpipes, the fife and drums, the raised voices, always went first. We all need a song.