About

Guy MullerInjury lawyer. San Antonio, Texas.

Born in Amarillo.Trained in boardrooms.Back where he belongs.
Guy Muller in a black cowboy hat, seated and laughing

The short version

Who you're calling.

  • Licensed Texas attorney since 2015. J.D., University of Tulsa College of Law.
  • Started in entertainment law in Austin, then litigated catastrophic injury cases at The Stewart Law Firm.
  • Went in-house: counsel for an AR/VR and software company, then general counsel of an book publisher that published worldwide, working M&A, licensing, risk, and the board room.
  • Founded Guy Muller Injury Law in San Antonio, focused on catastrophic injury and wrongful death.
  • Handles every case in association with The Stewart Law Firm, PLLC: full litigation staffing and case funding behind every client.
  • Clients call and text Guy directly.

Texas, first

I was born in Amarillo and raised all over this state. Dalhart, Pampa, Cleburne, Sherman, Austin, and now San Antonio, where my wife and I are raising our son and where I chose to build this firm. I've lived in more Texas towns than most people ever drive through. The hat isn't a costume. It's a hometown.

The first fire

Out of law school I chased entertainment law in Austin, landed it, loved it, and then got laid off. So I went and talked to people until somebody needed me. That somebody was Stephen Stewart of The Stewart Law Firm. He told me he litigated serious injury cases the hard way, that his firm wasn't a volume shop, and that he needed a lawyer in a deposition the following week. We shook hands. That was the whole contract.

The work was catastrophic injury. Real cases, real families, and some of the worst things a person can see. I was good at it. I also wasn't ready for the weight of it. One case involved a fifteen-year-old boy who didn't come home, and that one pushed me somewhere I couldn't argue my way out of. I didn't have the tools yet to carry what this work asks you to carry. So I buried it, the way a lot of lawyers do and won't say out loud.

The other side of the table

I left for the corporate world and I learned it from the inside. First as counsel for a technology company in the AR and VR space. Then as general counsel (the top lawyer inside a company) of a book publisher that published worldwide and had been at it for three decades. I sat with CEOs and private equity owners. I took the minutes in board meetings. I worked mergers and acquisitions, licensing deals, and every flavor of corporate risk, including the documents that decide who pays when a worker gets hurt: master service agreements, indemnity clauses, insurance requirements.

Here is why that matters to you. The companies on the other side of an injury case make decisions the way I watched decisions get made for years: coldly, on spreadsheets, weighing what a claim will cost against what dragging it out will save. I don't have to guess how they think. I took notes in the room.

The wreck

While I was living that corporate life, my own family was in a serious car wreck. My wife, my son, and me. I came out of it with a concussion that put me on a different planet for a while, and I learned what it feels like to be the person in the passenger seat of your own life. The paperwork, the calls, the fog, the fear that you're somehow overreacting while everything hurts.

I've been the client. I don't ever forget that.

Around the same time, after my son was born, I quit drinking. Cold turkey, and for good. I went to therapy and did the work I'd been avoiding since those first years of catastrophic cases, and I've got no shame about any of it. Getting my mind right is the reason I could come back to this work and carry it the way it deserves to be carried. If you're going to trust somebody with the worst season of your life, you deserve somebody who has done his own repairs.

The return

Sober, clear, and sure, I asked myself the deathbed question: what work would make me proud. The answer was the work I'd left. Injured people had never stopped calling me for help, even years after I'd left the field. Nobody ever called me begging for a merger.

So I called Stephen Stewart, the man who knows my work better than anyone, and told him what I wanted to build. He said I was making the right decision. Then he said, let's do it together.

The setup (and why it's good for you)

Guy Muller Injury Law is my firm. My name, my clients, my phone. And every case I take runs in association with The Stewart Law Firm, PLLC under a formal association agreement, with case managers, paralegals, receptionists, co-counsel attorneys, and the litigation funding to take a catastrophic case the full distance. I'm also of counsel to the Stewart firm, working alongside them on major cases.

What that means for you, in plain words: you get the personal attention of one lawyer whose name is on the door, backed by the resources of a full litigation firm. You will never be handed to a call center, and the other side will never be able to count on outspending you. Two law firms working your case. One contingency fee, the same as hiring either one of us alone.

How I run my cases

You call me, you get me. My clients have my number and they use it. A great team handles the routine paper so I can carry the parts that actually move your case: strategy, pressure, and the moments that need judgment. I keep my caseload deliberately small. Focused, on purpose, so nobody with my name on their case ever wonders where their lawyer went.

Guy Muller in a ball cap in his home studio, a bookshelf with Shoe Dog visible behind him

The rest of me

The rest of me.

I'm a husband and a dad first. We ride bikes on the weekend. I garden, and yes, I dug every hole myself. I make music in a studio at my house, which is the part of the bio where people usually say, wait, what. San Juan, Puerto Rico is basically my second home, and if you've had the empanadas I've had, you get it. My weaknesses are cookies and cuatro leches from the HEB bakery. Not any bakery. HEB. I will debate this.

People tell me I'm not like other lawyers. It used to bug me. Now I know it's the best thing I've got.

You'll get me

You'll get me.

Call or text me at (210) 460-0569 and tell me what happened. If I can help, I'll tell you, and I'll be proud to do it. If I can't, I'll point you to somebody who can.

Call GuyText Guy