Recommended by Doug DeVita

Touching, haunting, and raw, this elegiac fable is a masterwork of the short play form. The only thing better than reading it would be to see it performed.

This is my life. I’m not saying which one of us snores, but I will say Vivian Lermond KNOWS whereof she speaks, with a humorously sharp scalpel.

Powerful and deeply felt, this monologue pretty much nails the inner thoughts most of us are having as we prepare to face another day of isolation, fear, and longing for a return to the old world. Beautifully done.

Exploring the trope that one man’s garbage is another man’s treasure, this touching monologue reminds us of all the unknown stories, memories, and history personal possessions hold. Simply, beautifully told, this monologue is itself something to be treasured.

Millions of years of male/female thought processes boiled down to one brilliantly succinct minute. Brava, Elisabeth!

This tennis match of tension and humor is Gill's most audacious work to date. His customary light touch with heavy subject matter is, of course, in evidence, augmented with some extraordinary risks he takes in the writing and character development. So much of it shouldn't be as funny as it is, and yet the humor is all of a piece with the dark nature of the work. Read it, produce it, ZOOM it!

Reflectively powerful, heartbreaking, and beautiful, D. Lee Miller's monologue is full of yearning, regret, and wisdom, and is a gift for an older actress.

I've had the distinct pleasure of watching this script develop in a class I'm taking with Marjorie, as well as in a writers group to which we both belong. Chilling, prescient, and strangely sweetly horrifying, Bicknell enters a new realm with this work, just as – if we're not careful – we may all enter the world she so savagely paints here. Gird your loins, folks, and read this play.

The word "gingerbread" in and of itself is not a particularly funny word, nor would one ever suspect it to be. However, in this darkly comic gem, the word is used to howlingly killer effect, and topped only by the hilariously not-quite-innocent final line. Also in and of itself not particularly funny, but also howlingly killer.

This is a beautifully evocative story about love, loss, forgiveness and rejuvenation. Cosgrove creates a hauntingly specific world with her lyrically poetic use of language – a world that is both harsh and forgiving – and she peoples it with characters whose wants and needs are both intimately personal, and larger than life. A thoughtful, tender and heartbreaking play.