Recommended by Bill Triplett

Beneath the many laugh-out-loud moments that swirl through this melancholy comedy lies a poignant look at female friendship – its ups and downs, ins and outs, smiles and tears. Add in the distancing effects of time and a stark shift of economic status, and suddenly that friendship is stretched in ways that will resonate with not just women, but also more than a few men, I’ll bet. Engagingly written, deftly observed, and full of heart!

This is such a wonderfully whimsical look at the life of books and how even a mis-shelved one can find community with others of a completely different genre, especially in the face of indifferent rejection. Parable? Quite possibly, but it is definitely full of charm and wit. Emily Hageman has such a disarming way of luring you into a story, and the result is feeling like you're in a world you don't want to leave. She's the real deal.

Just when you think you're reading a ripping satire that skewers all the cliches of self-centered culture -- as in self-awareness, self-actualization, self-you-name-it) -- Rachael Carnes slyly darkens the tones and implications. She's a master of the deadpan moment, able to point up the absurdity all around us with a perfectly placed line that'll make you laugh and wince at the same time. What starts as a send-up of five teenage girls rehearsing for a dance competition soon becomes a biting meditation on our times. A wickedly funny commentary -- with zombies!

What a vivid and poignant piece this is. Characters and relationships established so quickly and clearly, your sympathies engaged from the start. The protagonist isn't even seen, but her determination drives and dominates the conversation. There's an undercurrent of urgency you feel from beginning to end as a dying woman tries to cling to life through some of the most personal questions anybody can be asked. And she will not be denied answers. Powerful.

Some really nice back-and-forth in this funny two-hander about an aspiring actor, his previous work in gay porn, his live-in boyfriend, and what usually happens with the best-laid plans. (Okay, pun intended.) Nick, the actor, has complete confidence that he'll nail getting a part in an upcoming bad horror movie, the synopsis of which alone will have you laughing. Of course, things don't turn out as he expects -- in more ways than one. Larry Rinkel keeps the surprises and twists coming in this snappy comedy.

Talk about scary propositions: You open your eyes, believing you've only been out for a couple days, and it turns out to be years. Sixteen, in fact. Your second-grader is now married, and your husband... well, he's acting awfully strangely. How do you come back into a world that no longer exists? Julie Zaffarano deftly evokes all the emotions you'd expect, from elation to fear, from bewilderment to anger, and back again. But she also finds hope. Smartly and effectively written, and easy to produce. A winner!

A terribly moving piece about a dream slowly cracking and falling apart as the young Sally Hemings learns the real reason Thomas Jefferson is taking her to Paris with him. It's one thing to be born a slave with barely any hope or thought of escape, or even of being less of a slave; it's quite another -- and arguably more devastating -- to have that hope dangled before you... only to conceal a brutal reality behind it. Beautiful and haunting.

Don't be fooled by the charming elderly couple and their enduring love at the center of this poignant character study. Undercurrents of sadness and mortality are swirling about, breaking the surface only occasionally and in the slightest ways. And that's what makes this short piece so effective -- the structure mirrors the emotional realities. You come away feeling they have so much vested in each other, but you can only hope both will be able to remember that.

A sly and witty send-up of casting a show -- in particular, a Shakespeare play -- in the age of possible gender-oversensitivity. If old Bill could cast men in all female roles 400 years ago, why not have a pre-adolescent boy play Cleopatra? Larry Rinkel gets great comic mileage out of that question, while also poking fun at stage moms. Lots of fun.

Yet another of the memorable readings at this year's Midwest Dramatists Conference. The characters and action of this charming piece feel so natural, so every-day real, and so recognizable that you almost feel you're in the bathroom with them as Matt tries to remove his hand that's stuck in the toilet. It's an accident that has caused him to reflect on his life and marriage as his wife Lisa tries to figure out not only how he got his hand stuck, but why is he waxing so nostalgic and philosophic suddenly? Lynn deftly makes it all utterly believable and enjoyable.