Recommended by Charles Scott Jones

THE MEADOW unfolds so smoothly, a classic noir story staged with dry humor and many twists. I love how Ryan Kaminski makes use of the title, gets so much out of a seemingly innocent landscape that I imagine with a slow-moving creek of wine on the periphery. Terrific fun, must be a blast to see staged.

MIND HOW YOU GO, a play that seems to be about metal detecting, becomes so much more as Ted and Marty pause on a moonlit stone bridge. It’s creepy and funny how the very limited scope of the characters make possible the blindness to a non-metallic world they succumb to. Christine Foster knows what she’s up to, composing a rich atmosphere of bone-deep dread through the use of folklore, the simplest objects, sound effects, and smells. The execution of events in this short thriller are masterful. I love the thing she does with socks.

Set in the Lincoln Hotel in New York City, in 1938, LAST NIGHT IN THE LINCOLN HOTEL is a fictional account of Billie Holiday’s leaving Artie Shaw’s band. I was struck by how unusually present this play feels in its historical context, how poised and savvy Holiday is at 23, how firmly she tries to negotiate a better deal with Shaw before exiting. This is an inspiring moment in the Billie Holiday story and playwright Adam Richter has risen admirably to the task of making it live.

This monologue is so powerful for the simple direct voice of Gus Lemcke, a Republican sheriff, in Vanderburgh County, Indiana, 1880 - from a memoir adapted by Donald E Baker. If current events lead us to believe that times are bad, a historical reflection like A LYNCH MOB FAILED gives hope that we too shall persevere and prevail. The details of this piece are astounding, from the sheriff's family living under the same roof as the convicts in the jail, to the monologue's brilliant last line that I won't spoil. Please read this wonderful piece!

I’m a fan of Poe’s short story Masque of the Red Death and this sci-fi short is a fitting and exciting representative of the green room. A quarantine play, A BEEPING AT THE AIRLOCK DOOR, reduces a classic conflict, the risk of contagion vs. human compassion, down to its most basic, urgent expression in this space exploration scenario. Worthy of Edgar Allan Poe's tendency toward a creeping doom for his characters, Michael Lin builds a steady feeling of dread with simple effects and affecting dialogue. I like Cam's foreboding line: "Sometimes I wish I could care less."

A play that starts as a dinner date at Arthur’s and Ori getting past her fears is about journeying backward - into a more innocent, less cynical time. I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I CAN BEAR suggests that to fall in love again we have to remove the shackles of adult paranoia and to reinvent ourselves as kids, to care and believe as much as we did when we first began hearing stories. The puns are great, the romance enchanting, but it’s the underlying seriousness of John Busser’s play that carries it home.

Months before Christmas, Elaine opens by singing a Christmas song while seeking a compliment from her husband about her party outfit. The exchange between Elaine and Buddy is snappy and sweet - very deftly written. I like Donald Loftus’s (unChristmas?) play, WHEN THE WORLD FALLS IN LOVE, much better than most holiday fare for the subtle way it sneaks up on you and makes you happy.

Really really admire how this satire plays off the unnamed main characters of Albee’s great play. “WOMAN” is often hysterically funny in her awful way and so is “MAN” with his attempts to appease his harridan wife. Favorite line comes from Sonny. “How much has she had, Dad?” Many laughs and the twist ending is perfect!

The wary zoo panda thinking out loud with a south London accent in the disarming monologue MADE IN CHINA underscores the profound effect of one’s environment. I admire the consistent irascible voice Maggie Gallant has created with lines like: “Like we don’t see stuff. Like pandas can’t be deep thinkers.” Nice work! We’d all do better to imagine the thoughts of zoo animals.

One thing for a suburban princess to fear death - quite another to dread her undeath. With SUBURBAN ZOMBIE PRINCESS, Jacquelyn Priskorn has written a hilarious monologue with a hint of seriousness. Would love to see it live (living?) or in all of its pre-undead glory!