I have this rock that used to be a boulder. A big, bald, beautiful boulder. And now,
after many many years of cool cool water running over it like tickling icicles, it’s just a
rock.

Several years ago, I took that rock from its original habitat when I jumped into
the coldest river in the state of Washington – a giant pink organ having a spastic-seizure
screaming into the stream – and came out with that rock.

You know why I took that rock?

Me neither.

The more important question is why do I still have it? I have lived in 17 different
places since I stole that rock from that riverbed. Seventeen. And everywhere I went –
across tens of thousands of miles – that rock came with me. Not furniture or clothes or
books or even girlfriends. But, everywhere I went, that rock was there and I had no idea
why.

Then, one day while stuck on a play, I looked at the rock and you know what it
said to me? It said, “Tyler – you’re a chickenshit.”

“What happened to you? You used to have gumption. You used to have guts. You
used to jump into rivers so cold you wouldn’t see your scrotum for a week. Now look at
you – writing love stories. You make me sick.”

And Rock was right. I was a chickenshit.

I’m married to a beautiful woman and we have a beautiful boy and I love my life.
And that is toxic for writing.

To combat my chickenshittedness, I started writing characters who are the
opposite of me, in situations I would do whatever I could to not find myself in.

I love taking the most mundane of situations and making them exceptional.

Whether it’s the simple act of a man asking for his best friend’s blessing to marry
his sister … during a zombie apocalypse, or exploring the theatrical possibilities of
a coffin block, or a father competing with super-heroes for his child’s affections – there
is great satisfaction in writing characters who jump into the water no matter how cold.

As in my full-length, DANCING WITH N.E.D.: At the surface is the story of a woman
planning her final days – booze and pills being her diet – but what we learn at the end is
that she is really trying to come to grips with the mistakes from her past. Claire, the
protagonist, takes her death into her own hands and makes the brave decision to decide
how her life will play out – grasping death from the jaws of life.

With CHOCOLATESEXPUPPYTACOS (A NON-DENOMINATIONAL COMEDY), I’m exploring
faith and religion through the eyes of a stand-up comedian who lacks religion but,
maybe, has more faith than he thinks. By helping his preacher brother save his ministry,
the comedian sees that his job and his brother’s job are nearly identical – similar
messages, different deliveries, more dick jokes.

These brothers each have avoided their respective callings but, when teamed together,
they become stronger than previously thought.

Their tandem embrace of their God-given voices leads them brave the cold waters of their
future.

In my current play, OCCUPATION: DAD, inspired by my own experiences as a stay-at-home dad,
our hero is on a journey trying to navigate through the perils of fatherhood, seeking out an
identity in new frontiers. While he’s encountering every day challenges, he’s quickly finding
that accepting his new role as a father can only be attainable via mending his broken
relationship with his own father.

Humor certainly plays a part in OCCUPATION: DAD, but so does the idea of confronting new
challenges and feeling as though we may never be ready for the most important roles in our lives.

“You’re a one-trick pony. ‘Dick jokes’ – pfft.”

But, I don’t just rely on the plethora of humor the gods have touched me with. I
also look to investigate subject matter I’m unfamiliar with in order to find a story with
which I can relate on a personal level.

For my play, RUN KINGSBURY RUN, I came across a story of Cleveland lore and,
having been raised in Cleveland, was intrigued to tell this story that I hadn’t heard
before.

Since the play takes place during a serial killer’s reign some forty years before I
was born, it would seem that I had no connection to the subject matter and, therefore,
would not be able to insert my voice. However, I connected with the idea of a man facing
the end of his legacy and having one last chance to save his name. This allowed me to
view the play through his eyes – a man staring at his life, past and future, right in the
face – and not knowing how to handle what it is he’s staring at.

While focusing on getting closer to my Voice, I find that the more I write the
closer I get. While I’ve been blessed in life, I’m less fortunate in vision and creativity. In
order to find plays – including many of my short plays – I like to find the subjects I’m
most passionate about, or subjects that bring out the most emotion in me.

These subjects can run the gamut from politics, history, social expectations,
injustices in an opaque world, or just good ol’ sexy sex times.

These stories, of course, are easy to find when opening any newspaper, or having
conversations with friends, or just visiting the mythological trolls of the comments
section of any story on Yahoo News. The trick for me isn’t just relaying the story, but
relaying it in such a way the audience thinks they’re watching characters without
knowing what they’re really watching is themselves.

What my characters all have in common is my need to explore how each of them
either got themselves into their current mess (N.E.D.), how they get themselves out of
their current mess (KINGSBURY), how they try to break their routine of messiness
(CHOCOTACO), or how they navigate through any myriad of obstacles making a mess
(DAD).

Also, they have way more guts than I ever did or do.

Like sheep in wolves clothing, my characters and my plays are examinations into
the parts of the human psyche I lack but wish I had in full. Many of my characters
behave in ways that I think most people would like to if it wasn’t for succumbing to what
has been deemed “socially acceptable.” They’re daring, mouthy, and not at all interested
in what other people think about them.

And that is what Rock gives me: Rock taps into that part of me that is gutsy, that
part of me that falls in love at a moment’s notice, that part of me that jumps into water
so cold I can’t see my scrotum for a week.

Like Rock, my characters, my plays, and my approach is, simply, an endless drive
to be what everyone once was and wishes we could be again: Bolder.