Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

There are moments in a relationship when people reveal elements of themselves that are tells, the signs that only they share, that don't need to be spoken. John Mabey's ability to convey these moments with a word, a pause, a look, a touch, is in this piece in a masterful way. The subtext of this couple's relationship is immediate and understood: heartfelt and honest.

I swear I know both Isaac and Bascom. (I could name names...) This has all the makings of a meet-awkward-turned-adorable with surprisingly candid moments of truth dressed up in the middle of a cheap wedding reception. Forget the TV movie cliches; this is how it really happens, and I can't image anyone other than Scott Sickles make it work in such a fashion.

As I read each story in this cycle of life, I knew everyone. I remembered them as if it was yesterday even if it was more than fifty years ago that I was an undergrad. Sam Heyman's ability to bring these characters to life took me back to those days that shaped my life and the choices I made is powerful. Is it any coincidence that moments after reading this piece I got a Facebook friend request from a classmate I haven't seen since graduation? Thanks, Sam.

I worked on a dairy farm when I was 17, and the one thing I remember most was wondering how the cows felt when we hooked up the automatic milkers as opposed to me squatting next to them and grabbing them by the teats with my cold and calloused hands. No wonder I got swatted by a shit-laden tail more than once. But as Sam Heyman shows us, these ladies of the bovine ilk can be mellow and dreaming of a better life once they realize what lies beyond. And the lead to the punch line is worth it.

I consider it a sign from the universe that I read this play on the opening day of school in Miami, Florida, where censorship is the new normal for high school theatre. Arthur M. Jolly has captured the characters, the moments, and the inner feelings in way that feels close to Samuel Beckett's absurdism because that is about the only way one can interpret the insanity of trying to suppress the artistic drive of these students. Bravo for taking it on head on, and I hope this play gets done everywhere, including Florida.

I have the advantage of having met Sam in person and spent time with him, listening to him, sharing a meal and seeing his work acted out, so this monologue brings a flash of recognition and understanding. But I can also hear it spoken by others -- by myself, even -- and the honesty, the vulnerability, and the strength that come through it go beyond his own voice. This is a powerful story that accomplishes so much because of its genial yet direct address from his heart and soul to yours. I know the audience will love it.

I read this piece waiting for the punch line, the button; the twist... something that would tell me that Mike Byham's forecast for first contact in the not-too-distant future was going to end differently. But he plays his satire well, making each character believable and without a nod, wink, or nudge to the audience that this is all some dystopian joke. He's framed the situation within the cone of plausibility so that the outrageous -- and the scary -- seem benignly real. Take it from someone who's been on a lot of first dates, he's not far off.

I don't know where I heard "the first pancake rule," but I've used it in my writing. However, I think Adam Richter takes the cake (pun intended) in this one-minute gem.

Peter Fenton tells us that this monologue is for a young man. But "young" is a flexible term, and as a reader (and writer) already one year into his eighth decade, I wonder if I'll ever grow up based on the measures he lays out for us. Some call it the Peter Pan syndrome; a refusal to grow up, but it means more than taking on responsibilities such as taxes and laundry-folding. I think, and as this monologue makes it clear, there's a difference between maturing and growing up, and this young man has matured beyond his years.

When the writers' strike ends, I want John Busser to go to Hollywood and write the real "Afterschool Specials" like "Taken to School." It would be a real lesson for all those who think that kids don't learn from their parents. Shades of Abbie Hoffman mixed in with a little John Dillinger. John's talent for dry humor and satire is well-established and this polishes his reputation even more.