Recommended by Rachael Carnes

This play's structure, pacing and voice dynamics create a compelling, prismatic world - where a change agent takes on myth and momentum with dignity and grace. Wyndham's language builds momentum throughout in its honest conflict - this woman feels familiar and her story all too relevant. Do we live in America - the "Dream" - or the nightmare? With human connection and a kind of writerly ease, Wyndham asks the hardest questions. Any actor would find so much to work with here! It's big, lush and cuts to the bone.

Oh my God — this play is a freight train! I think I stopped breathing on page two and off it goes from there — Strong and powerful, but with these exquisite little morsels of comedy that release you enough for the tense drama to snare you again and again. Diaz-Marcano packs a conversation over time and space, from personal to universal, imbuing seemingly surface moments with quandary. This operates at a subatomic level — fierce, relevant and accented with gobsmacking poetry. Damn. This is the stuff.

This play explores a deliciously dark underworld, padded with iconic musicians — and all their vanities and excesses — crowding each other for space in a dressing room they can't escape. Burdick's dialogue and humor create a marvelous interplay - between rules and rockstars. (Of course, in hell, guitars can't play and people lose their singing voices - this is a concept that is an absolute delight to imagine and extrapolate!) Burdick tackles heavy themes (loss, death, regrets) with a confident hand and accessibility. With all the characters age 27, this would be terrific for a college or university.

As a former New Yorker, I just loved this — It brought me back to the travails of those dynamics between brokers and clients and — And within that, a terrific exploration of a broken relationship. Pittenger's characters connect with place fully, their dialogue snappy and revealing. I like, too, the writer's use of stage directions. There's just something so pathetic, and believable, about sitting down next to a lonely fern in an apartment foyer. (When that happens, you kinda know your life's not going the way you wanted.)

Ñ explores a territory between witty word play and deep injustice - Humberto Amaya evokes the tragic unfolding of our societal and cultural erosion, among family, community — And its ensuing fears. The language world glistens inside this day-glo cage. I meant to read just a bit on my lunch break at work, and kept right on reading. The interplay between unreality - or disbelief or suspension - and the details of the day-to-day make this work prescient, timely and compelling. It's both new - and relatable. We need to hear more voices like this one on our theatrical stages.