Senior Writer
Senior
United States 🇺🇸

Tyler B

Hire Writer

Bio

Tyler used to run around the backyard as a kid, recording his dog, cat, whatever, with his Fisher-Price tape recorder. He became an avid and detailed journal writer before becoming a professional writer—as a newspaper reporter, trade magazine editor, and most recently technical writer. He came to rely on a digital recorder to accurately capture interviews for articles he wrote, as well as in lieu of a personal journal. Now he’s combining his love of writing and recording to help people capture their life stories.

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As a Story Terrace writer, Tyler B interviews customers and turns their life stories into books. Get to know our writer better by reading the autobiographical anecdote below!

Scene Stealer

“Not again,” I thought.

David Harper was one of the most talented actors at Starlight Mountain Theatre in Garden Valley, Idaho. Unlike me, who wasn't quick-witted, David's improv had made him an audience favorite, and sometimes he improved with a front or backflip. Unfortunately, he had told me in confidence after opening night that he had fallen on his head more times than he could count. That worried me.

But waiting in the wings stage right at our nighttime, summer-stock production of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, I was in no position to warn him not to. “Frank”, the character he played, seized his bride stage left, dashed to the front with her over his shoulder, lost his balance and, in a valiant attempt to protect her from the fall, landed on the gravel in front of the wood bleachers.

The audience and my fellow castmates backstage roared in laughter. I wasn’t laughing. I couldn’t see how he had landed, but I knew it was on his head.

“He’s going to get brain damage one of these days,” I thought.

My cue as Caleb arrived. We played out the scene until I threw a blanket over Rachel to kidnap her. Terrified, she fervently shook her head and whispered, “Do not carry me!” like David’s bad luck was going to rub off on us. Actors are a superstitious bunch.

I had never been one for improv, but I had a good feeling this time. I draped her over my shoulder, scampered to the front of the stage, and then stopped.

I stepped gently and harmlessly onto the gravel, and then gave the audience a wink and a thumb’s up before running off to join my castmates for the next scene. It was a small non-action, but it felt comedically perfect. All I could hear behind me was an explosion of laughter, one I had never elicited from an audience before or since.

When I joined my castmates, out of view from the audience and in the dark, I could tell they were all staring at me.

“What did you do?” someone asked. The audience had never laughed at my scene before. I puffed out my chest and explained.

Maybe I was getting better at improv.

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