Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

I have a lasting memory of my father reading the original poem to me and my siblings a very long time ago, and the images that came to mind remained long after. In this very funny, punny, and literary slapstick rendering, Arthur M Jolly has preserved the tale but illustrated it with physical and metaphorical pratfalls and fore-head slaps, as well as teaching us about the real background of this timeless piece of holiday magic. I know my father would have loved to see this version, especially including the cameo by the mouse.

The best ghost stories build slowly and in such a way that you cannot stop reading or listening. The true suspense that comes with it is seeing how caught up you get in it that when the realization of what you're hearing dawns on you... that is when you're really scared. Daniel Prillaman does a masterful job of building the tension in just such a way in this atmospheric and haunting piece that I could not stop reading.

Reading all the previous recommendations for this play set me up for it, but I was still startled by how it turned. There's no secret to the plot twist -- it's there in the slug line -- but it does leap out at you. I love the way Christian St. Croix sets it up: I marvel at the way Daniel is able navigate the apocalyptic turn while still thinking of his friend and their moment the night before. And if this monstrous invasion is a metaphor for their feelings and their future, it really works.

If Mel Brooks ever decided to direct a version of "A Christmas Carol," I would insist that he use Arthur M. Jolly's play as the foundation for the screenplay. Better yet, I would like to see every treacly crepe-paper and baling-wire community theatre production of Dickens' classic replaced by this laugh-out-loud story that really gets to the heart of class struggle in London: it's not all about you, Ebenezer! The playwright has the perfect touch, as well as some great blink-and-you-miss'em puns and sight gags. Have fun with it... or should I say, have a Jolly holiday.

If this was how religion was truly practiced, I think a lot more people would find both comfort and inspiration through it. John Busser's short two-hander is disarmingly truthful about faith and practice as well as a good life lesson regardless of our beliefs.

As a playwright, I feel a connection with my computer, so it's no wonder that a musician would have the same relationship with his piano. I must admit that I felt a twinge of guilt as I read Larry Rinkel's clever piece about the contentious relationship between a would-be pianist and his new piano, since I have a piano myself, inherited from my grandmother. The play made me laugh and appreciate the pain my piano must endure when I attempt to play. And I promise not to treat it as just a piece of furniture.

It is too bad that the tales around Christmas and the holidays only get attention during those times. They are worth sharing year-round since they provide insight to our traditions and culture, and those are not seasonal. In this enchanting -- in every sense of the word -- tale, Midge Guerrera combines tradition with the very real needs and joys of a family trying to celebrate despite the absence of the father. There is magic and suspense, but at the heart is a family with all the love and quirks that make this a treasure for all times.

One of my first real jobs was as the news director for a small-town radio station. I lasted nine months, let go because the station could get the news off the AP teletype. Local news meant paying me, and gossip at the local bar was good enough. I was reminded of that stint with Adam Richter's sharp take on how journalism is sacrificed on the altar of a balance sheet. Sheila faces the situation of her doomed local paper with grace and a faint glimmer of hope and hardened realism. There's a powerful punch in this play.

Okay, Jack Levine, you got me good on this one. The set-up channeling "The Twilight Zone," the suspense of the boys going out into the woods tempting fate (and wildlife), and the twist at the end that caught me by surprise thanks to a sure-fire tightening of tension. Boo! And I mean that in the best way.

"Trash Day" gives a new twist to the idea of body exchange, and instead of going for the "who's that?" confusion, Andrew Martineau does a deft job of exploring what really lies below the surface and how we all need to look beyond race and gender and into our hearts. He has a great cast of characters to work with as well; multidimensional and relatable. And as Aaron/Erin explores his/her inner self, they get to see what makes other people who don't fit into the narrow mold live their lives as well.