Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

The tremulous bravado that Shiloh puts forth tells us so much about this lost soul seeking a way -- any way -- out of the purgatory he's in. The arrangement he's making is set in stone but built on shifting sands of self-doubt and shielded by his own dreads and fears. His desperation is as thinly worn as the tattered clothes he's wearing, and all you can hope for is that he makes his way out.

Douglas Gearhart has the ability to pack so much into one line that each one conveys poetry: "We all deserve a little mercy." So many writers, myself included, could learn from his lyricism. In this story, a father and son discuss something as simple as ordering a shirt on-line, but the unspoken moments tell us so much about them and their lives. A powerful moment made all the more meaningful by its deceptive simplicity.

For those of us of a certain age, the reminder of the ravages of the AIDS epidemic isn't history; it's the lives and losses of friends, lovers, and none of them with grace, but horror. In Leif Larson's story, the desperation of the plague drives the characters to the extremes. I wept as I watched this reading at the Valdez Theatre Conference in 2023 not only for his riveting story that pulled no punches without using the dreaded tropes, but knowing that behind this drama, there were lives and loves lost because of hate, ignorance, and bigotry.

As an avid bird-watcher for over sixty years, I loved watching this conversation from the Family Corvidae as they worried about the humans fouling their -- and our -- global nest. As most birders know, crows are among the smartest beings, and their plans for saving the planet are both clever and... well, read this play and you'll see that "bird-brain" is a chauvinistic human insult to a noble collection of crows who seem to care more about global survival than we do.

This exploration of prejudice pulls no punches, showing that even the victims of hate can return it with just as much energy as that which was delivered in the first place, if not with the physical violence. Daniel Emlyn-Jones gives us insight into a world where we might believe that intelligence and manners would prevail over visceral reactions. There is much to learn from this play, all delivered with the genial -- and thus much more devastating -- veneer of politeness and keeping up appearances.

I have no way of knowing if this story is based on a real incident, but sad to say I think it could be. It makes me wonder if we have reached a point in which what is depicted as fantasy has an impact on someone's real life. It would be easy to dismiss this situation as just social issues run amok and those who take issues as ridiculous, but the way things are...

DC Cathro's depiction of the situation is level-headed, maddening, and therefore supremely hard-hitting.

This is the kind of moment where you know that even if these two guys have nothing more in common than watching their kids play soccer, there's a bonding that happens. It's unspoken, yet they know it. It's happened to all of us, gay, straight or however you see yourself: making a connection and feeling comfortable to talk about your life and in doing so, learning how to be a friend... and a father.

This tense and well-crafted play builds relentlessly yet without the tropes of the trapped-in-a-box story. As the twists and turns reveal more and more horror without overplaying their hand, and while you hope that the outcome will be relief and release, there is still the sense that these characters and their battle is not over. When I saw the reading at the 2023 Valdez Theatre Conference, I was reminded of the stage version of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," and Emma Gibson has given us a version that will stay with you.

In the manner of an O. Henry short story, these three ne'er-do-well kidnappers try to avenge the death of their brother, but nothing seems to go their way. A mixture of laughter and eyebrow-raising intrigue follow them as their plot unravels. It had a great reading at the 2023 Valdez Theatre Conference with a great cast and spot-on directing, so give it a read and get it produced.

In both the spirit and the tone of noir, Michael C. O'Day deftly links a character from a classic American play to his own story of a young lawyer taking his first case to the Supreme Court. But more than just a drama with overtones of "Law & Order" or "The West Wing," we find out what really matters when the rules of law are stripped away: what tie to wear, what pastry to choose, and overcoming the rivalries of those boys in high school who bullied him. Fascinating and well-written, and worthy of staging everywhere.