Recommended by Rachael Carnes

Wow! This play would be the perfect addition to a holiday festival line-up, but don't dismiss it as just a holiday play. It's so much more. Kaplan trains a bright light on powerful family dynamics, reaching into the past and the future, at a breathtaking pace. It's a masterful, fluid and poetic-yet-realistic interchange between mother and daughter. In this play, Kaplan holds the key to so much. I'm in awe.

In just a moment, Weibezahl imbues this scene with all the disquiet and panic of knowing something bad's going to happen, but not what, or when, and feeling incapable of stopping it. This dread is felt acutely around a universally-relatable human need, that could stand in as a metaphor for all the other things people lose, when our lives are collectively upended. A meditation, a kenning, with tremendous subtext. Reading this, I can feel the storm clouds as they gather.

A lovely exploration of loss and the cycles of grief, as a widow moves through letting go. Middaugh's dialogue feels so real, offering a dynamic emotional range for mature actors, and the message of the play is one of hope and connection. There's an aliveness to the possibilities of starting again, found in the pages of a seed catalog in winter. Just a beautiful play.

Oh sure, everything seems like it's gonna work out great. It's a fairy tale! But what happens after the lights fade on the rousing closing number and you find yourself in a committed relationship with a *beast*? We all have issues, and this play gently pokes at relationships and the containers we create to support them. Funny and relatable, this would be a delight to direct and design.

One-minute perfection! Pointer nails the microplay genre. Hilarious, with heart. Yay!

FISH and CAT have everything between them, and a vast, wide emptiness, in their big/little apartment world. Canfield explores the dynamics between these two cautionary besties, I mean, a FISH and a CAT coexisting? After a month of quarantining, I can't help read this play through that lens. I never thought I could get so excited about gravel, but I was reading up on gravel deliveries just today! Does that make me the fish? Which one are you? Prescient, relatable, and chockfull of steel-eyed observations. A great pick for your next festival. It would also be brilliant on Zoom.

Prescient and finely-wrought, this story centers on the complex dynamics among a family, demonstrating how an election can be a source of pain, fear, anger, sadness - and in its aftermath - maybe even growth. The writer brings areas to the fore for contemplation, though never in a ham-fisted or maudlin way. What's remarkable about this piece is it's consistently light touch, smartly allowing us room to have our emotional reactions, instead of telling us how to feel. The power-plays and powerlessness throughout this family's journey, reverberate in today's uncertainty, more than ever.

Oh my heart, what a beautiful play. Weaver brings us right to the edge of the precipice, allowing our protagonist to see and feel the world around him through a new lens. A stunning, timely piece, with Weaver's penchant for humane and resonant dialogue on full display.

A loving portrayal of the loss that happens by slow degrees, and friendships bend towards the onset of dementia. The deepest connections can bow deeply, finding new ways forward. A beautiful play, with great roles for mature actors.

When a Zoom meeting is hosted by someone in Nashville, and the author's outside of Boston and you've got cast members in Seoul and points between - You're hosting a virtual reading in the face of Covid-19! And this delightful play delivers laughs and love - endearing humans aplenty - and DOGS. Talking dogs. Clever, creative, cute-as-a-button DOGS. I am 15/15 here for this play, and so grateful for the distraction. An entertaining romp, animated with effervescence. Pure fun.