Recommended by Andrew Martineau

Behind the clown facade of a truly disturbed middle-aged man who sees himself as a complete failure because children and parents see him that way, Tickles the Clown just wants to be listened to in his final moments. There is great dialogue here between a priest and a clown, two types of people who are often misunderstood and stereotyped. West’s story is compelling in that it doesn’t offer redemption or sympathy; what it does offer is an explanation, and that is enough. Very original and provocative.

Reminiscent of Joni Mitchell’s song “The Circle Game,” D. Lee Miller uses a literal circle to spin us through a married couple’s long life together. It has wonderful overlapping of conversations that show how connected the two are in a deeply loving way. I wasn’t prepared for the tear-jerker of an ending. A touching and theatrically innovative piece.

There is a surprisingly fresh theatricality to this brief play that beautifully demonstrates how fleeting life can be. I love how Agnes Palfi weaves familiar connections of family life around the kitchen time that race by in an instant, such as Mam’s shortbread and The Little Prince book. What a wonderful play for actors to practice their craft, and what a revelation for audiences. Very original and profound.

Don Baker’s monologue on the “road not taken” and whether it is better to accept our choices in life from the perspective of gratitude for what we have, or to recognize that even with a great life, acceptance of regret shows maturity and wisdom. I commend Don for a great monologue for an older actor; they are few and far between, but this is one that packs a punch. Wonderful and thought-provoking.

It's rare to hear stories from parents who are desperately trying to hang on to hope in the face of their children's addiction, but Middaugh dramatizes a support group for parents with realistic narratives filled with terror, despair and disbelief. Many of us have dealt with similar family stories, and they need to be told. This play would be a great service to parents who may not think it could ever happen to them.

I have always thought of menus as items you just want to get out of the way when dining so you can move on to pleasant conversation or a refreshing cocktail. Well, now I really think this way, and I was eerily reminded by Cindi Samson-Braff that choices in life can be intimidating and stressful, despite the benefit of having the power to make one. Choices about death and preparing for it are a part of life, and this short play brilliantly highlights this grim fact. Very thought-provoking and original!

There is a moment early on in this beautifully heartfelt, exquisitely crafted short play in which Mom begs her teenage son to text her multiple times throughout the night after he tells her he is going to a party. That was the moment we can feel that this mother is not just being a helicopter parent; she is holding on for dear life. Then through a conversation with her oldest son, we slowly find out what this woman has been through, and we understand. What a gift for actors this is.

The loss of a sibling is like no other, especially when it is a shocking and devastating end. Joe Swenson takes a common activity between siblings and friends—creating imagery from cloud formations—and creates meaning out of the ephemeral memories of a sibling bond, in both viscerally sentimental and emotionally painful ways. Clouds, like ghosts, are fleeting and powerfully evocative. I love the poetic language and raw emotion in this. Bravo, Joe.

If anyone questions the value of a ten-minute play needs to read Christopher Soucy’s amazingly profound, thought-provoking brief drama about how love wins out over rash judgments that use blind ideology in highly destructive ways. What a gift this is for actors and audiences. Every line is rooted in urgent intention that ends beautifully. Well done, Chris.

What a beautifully clever and provocative play about how identity shapes us, especially when we think we have little or no control over how people’s perceptions of us shape our own happiness. The idea of a McDonald’s functioning as purgatory is true genius, and yet, H. Avery doesn’t fall into the stereotypical trappings of fast food being pure evil. The monologue about the perfect blending of McNugget sauces is fantastic. This is an eye-opening and profoundly moving piece of theatre.