Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

Having struggled through the Episcopal church's confirmation classes in Grade 8, I now believe that if I had learned about the faith in the way John Busser teaches us, I'd have stuck around for the reception. As it is, this Quaker gets all the references and the sly humor that is John's stock in trade and makes him one of my favorite writers and traveling companion. Read this without cracking up and there's no hope for you.

The old saying that where there's life there's hope gets a new and powerful turn in this dystopian world of gray skies and cold wasteland: where there's art there's hope. Josh Gauthier makes Paul an unlikely hero and beacon of hope with his writing, and even if only one person reads his work, life is beautiful. This story is a message to all of us, even those who don't know how to write, that what we create matters. Yes. Or as Paul says, Okay.

There is something sweetly sad when people in their twenties suddenly realize that their life has a past and their future is finite. Yes, Brandon and Marine have come across this realization with the help of chemical enhancements, but they are excited, nervous, and even nostalgic as they come to terms with the unstoppable march of time no matter how hard they try, as John Cougar Mellencamp noted, to hold on to sixteen as long as they can. (PS: I remember when Sunset Place was new. *sigh*)

It's often said that a eulogy is the truth wrapped in fiction. In this short play by Julie Brandon, we see the past as it happened -- or as Maggie would have us see it -- in her tumultuous relationship with her mother who never let a kind word escape her lips until after she has passed on. The depth of character in this play is so strong that you can't help but wonder at the strength in both of them, and the power of understanding and forgiveness shines through.

It's not often when you hear one side of a conversation and you can pick up on what the other person is not just saying, but meaning. In this tight short play, Nicholas Quintana brings a very personal moment in a young man's life to the stage, and while we can't hear the voice on the other end of the line, he gives the actor and the audience all we need to tell the story. And we see this young man grow up before our eyes.

The intimacy of this play is palpable, as are the memories Donald Loftus portrays as we go back and forth in time in a kaleidoscope of places, images and photographs. The designers for this play will have so many opportunities to make them come alive, but the characters themselves bring so much to the telling of the tale. For those of us who have been through what Daniel is dealing with, it is both heart-rending but also uplifting in seeing how he finds his way to take the true portraits.

In a world of ChatGPT and AI bots calling selling final wishes insurance and gutter and alarm systems, this call from C'thulhu is a spray of fresh water in a miasma of dull commercialism. The temptation to enter the mythic world is powerful, even with a being so colorful -- if not well-equipped with the niceties of living among us -- as they are. John Busser has it exactly right -- I do believe C'Thulhu has an account on Etsy -- and you will long for the phone to ring again and again.

Leave it to Ken Levine to find love and humor in the exquisite pain of injuries incurred in doing what you love and want to do for the rest of your life. Frank, ever the Beach Boy, does his best to persuade his strait-laced daughter Wendy to bring the iconic poster "The Endless Summer" of surf, sand and boys with killer pecs to life with him. The best part is that Wendy has her own yearning desire, and Frank knows exactly how to inspire her. Charming, heart-warming, and fun, fun, fun.

When you get to a certain point with life-long friends, there are things you've held back for whatever reason. Craig McNamara does a brilliant job of telling this truth with two characters that had me saying to myself that not only do I know them, but I can see myself having this very conversation with someone I've known since I was five. The tension builds to the point where you can't imagine what comes next, and yet it tops off with great ending. Bravo.

I had a hard time hearing this short play because it skated so close to what I've been through in the last few years, first with my father and then my mother. But that is the beauty of it: if it doesn't touch you, grab you, and hold you, then where is your heart, your feelings? It is done with delicacy, not mawkishness, and the notes, both literal and in the mind, are the ones that make the moment real. There is also a delicate touch of humor that I recognize and cherish. Thank you, Jacquie.