Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

This is a hilarious/tragic/comical/truthful/wonderful stream-of-conscience monologue that is shows the result of being trapped in one's own world and letting all the thoughts out at once. Adam Seidel has always had such insight to his characters and their thoughts, and in this case his deft skill is shining through.

In this current time of virtual contact, this little play goes completely the other way from social distancing and puts two people in direct touch with each other where it means the most. Never doubt that Matthew Weaver is capable of truly touching us with a simple but powerful message of love and tenderness.

Putting things in perspective -- a tree, a rock, a flower, a place -- in the new now brings a new awareness in this calm but still tremulous monologue of a mother watching a child play outside. It is made even more poignant by the setting and the history of one of the other observers who grew up in a time and a place where ignoring the rules could be as dangerous as an unchecked virus. It is the calm vigilance that makes this a powerful moment.

Just reading the title and I'm hearing the music of my teen years and bringing back all the memories of hearing it on AM radio out of Detroit -- the real Motown. Vivian Lermond's telling of those days through a man who easily could be me and a lot of my friends has all the right moves and notes that make that music and their legacy irreplaceable. And it's not just my imagination...

A dark-brewed comedy with a definite twist at the end. Office and world politics are a very powerful blend here, and while there's an agenda, it doesn't get in the way of a well-crafted play with good timing and roles that actors can develop with gusto.

I was going to say that I wrote this recommendation only because I want Cheryl Bear to read my plays on NPX, but then I actually read the monologue and I think, wow, Matthew Weaver has done it again. I would read Matthew's work because he's the writer's writer, he gets how plays work, and he makes them work.

After all we've been through, I needed to read this play, and I want to see this play, either in Zoom or on the stage, or any way possible. It asks questions and through this wonderfully absurd journey I couldn't stop smiling, laughing, and loved hearing the answers. The wit and wisdom of William Missouri Downs is on full display here, and I didn't want the play to end. And the best part is that thanks to the magic of Zoom, it can be shared now. Bravo!

Having just recently been through the loss of my father, this play struck me deeply. But it did not hurt; in fact, the wisdom and comfort of the story is to realize that death is more than just the ending of one life, but the continuation in another way: memories, cherished moments, even unremarkable times spent together. Dwight Yancey uses the Greek myth of the River Styx and Charon the boatman and inspiring poetry to tell a universal tale of loss, regret, understanding, and love.

Matt Harmon blends Samuel Beckett's sense of space and stage with the agit-prop of Clifford Odets and gives us a powerful drama of silent struggle against forces beyond this one man's control. The build-up to the climax is powerful and inevitable, and the tension doesn't go away when the lights go out.

The publication of the names of the dead from Covid-19 on the front page of the New York Times and the inspiration for this monologue came the day before my father died. He was not a body any more than the names and dates and figures on this list, so reading this moment of brilliant reflection touched me in a way we all should feel: bodies are one thing, but souls are another. I don't believe in coincidence. I do believe in inspiration, and this piece is proof of it.