Recommended by Steven G. Martin

Oh, the things we try to convince ourselves about, even when we know they aren't true.

Juniper McKelvie has created a short monologue about a person's relationship with food that would play well at outdoor venues like food truck locations or parks, or indoor restaurants once they're available.

McKelvie allows the Dieter to move through several emotional stages of her new relationship with food, each more extreme than the one before. The painful thing is that audiences will understand there's pain and loss there.

"Third Circle of Hell. Or, Gluttons Anonymous" will serve a powerhouse actor well.

A man attempts to repair a long-broken relationship at the worst possible time in this one-act play.

I love Scott Sickles' plays because they focus on relationships, including several -- not all -- that are romantic relationships. He puts his characters and their relationships through a wringer, however: they're either destroyed and decaying, or on the verge of it. And the characters say or do things to make things worse.

In "Manly Men Doing Manly Things," I just want Les and Doug to right the ship. It's deeply emotional drama between two gay men, and I love it.

Dread and fear fill Clay's bedroom like a chilly fog, and Vince Gatton skillfully increases them throughout this scary, thrilling short drama.

I feel Clay's desperation throughout, his need to be heard and understood, his anger at being mollified. Such pain, fear, a sense of being alone -- it was almost too much to bear. And then Gatton took this short play in unexpected directions to great conclusion.

"Cassie Strickland is Not Under the Bed" is one of Gatton's anthology plays with ties to a tragic central event, whose effects ripple for years. Wonderful breadth of writing.

Entire lives of loved ones, winnowed down to artifacts that puzzle the protagonists in this short play.

I love the moods I felt reading Sheila Cowley's "Duck" -- joy knowing that Jamie's and Casey's relatives had lovely, lively salad days; wistfulness in wishing some of the history of these wonderful items could be explained (a red hibiscus dress? a Bowie knife? a curry comb? a painting of a duck?), but knowing they could not; and pleasure in how Jamie's feelings toward these items change. "Not all of it."

Another layered, complex, subtle play by Cowley.

A genuine, sweet, burgeoning romance for the stage.

What I especially love about Matthew Weaver's "A Lot A Lot" is that the characters who realize they are in love are in their forties. To see two mature people on stage discovering that they love one another is miraculous and heartwarming and cheer-worthy. Romantic opportunities don't wither away and disappear because of age. Thank you, Matthew.

Had Irma and Myron been teens, yes, the story would still be lovely, but that extra detail provided only in the list of characters just makes "A Lot A Lot" that much richer.

That art is subjective is among its most laudable and damnable qualities. The themes of subjectivity and perhaps not understanding original intent runs throughout 10-minute comedy from the first interactions to the last.

I especially like Caeli's response to the snobs who belittle her and her work even before they see it. I'm glad that Straton Rushing provided her perspective as a balance.

"Modern Art" is fun, funny, and a little pointed with its quiet commentary.

This short monologue paints a portrait of a young woman desperate to break her mother free from toxic behavior.

Asher Wyndham offers Shannon several emotional tools to attempt to connect with her mother in "Shannon: A Monologue For a Smart Girl in a Snuggie." It's having to try so many tools at once that shows Shannon's desperation. Shannon's earnest desire to reach her mother will affect entire audiences.

Middle-school-aged female actors will find so much that makes Shannon a fully rounded character. This would be a wonderful performance in a festival of short plays.

This short monologue is ravishingly poetic and coolly reflective and somewhat sad and filled with awe and wonder. It is everything and a half in just a few minutes.

Sheila Cowley captures the unpredictability of life from the universal and monstrously majestic scale down to the incredibly intimate and personal. "Flicker" concludes with one of the most satisfying descriptions of the beauty of everyday life, and how that beauty is found within ourselves.

"Flicker" is a magnificent monologue that has already earned a richly diverse production history, and deserves so much more.

This full-length play is a coming-of-age tale told on an imaginative scale I've never experienced before.

I originally read Lauren Gunderson's "I and You" in American Theatre magazine. Absolutely everything works, starting with Gunderson's characters, the almost entirely opposite Anthony and Caroline. Their personal histories more than address their current-day choices, they form the very basis of the story itself.

Yes, enjoy the surprise ending, but audiences and readers will enjoy the trip to that destination as much as the destination itself. A brilliant play.

A little bit of Christmas, a little bit of violence, a whole lot of fun.

Old holiday traditions and philosophies about celebrating Christmas battle against more contemporary attitudes in Monica Cross's savage, 10-minute dark comedy. It's quite fun to see Father Christmas, Saint Nicholas, and Santa Claus together on stage. And Cross takes a not-so-subtle jab at the commercialization of holidays.

The dialogue nicely captures the characters' personalities, costume designers will love the challenge of differentiating the characters, and the unexpected action will cause some audience members to gasp.

This is a fun, tart holiday play for theaters.