Recommended by Doug DeVita

In "Ferret Ran Away," Dave Osmundsen has taken a scalpel and ripped beneath the surface of familial relationships to truth, lies, and each other with caustic but humorous precision. A tour-de-force for two actors in their late-teens/early twenties, this thought-provoking play haunts as much as it heals.

This is one of the most beautiful, tender, and perfect short plays I’ve experienced, and yes, I mean not just read but experienced. A cathartic work to be savored and loved for everything it says about life. I’d love to see this performed.

Stephen Foglia’s use of language to paint his story, his characters, and his action is extraordinary, and gives his winning “The Dog Museum” an additional sheen of beauty. Highly recommended.

Another stunner from Hageman. With its crisp, taut, effective horror steadily building to a gut-wrenching climax, there's not a wasted or misplaced line or emotion from beginning to end. Terrific roles for teen actors, too.

Angry, didactic, and gut-wrenching, in “JOEY... A TEN-MINUTE PLAY” Loftus pushes all the buttons and unleashes all the feels with knife-sharp precision. Written entirely in direct address, he juxtaposes cold hard facts with the experiences of a child and his mother who have been separated at the US/Mexican border, and the never ceasing questions they have about each other, questions they will never have answered. It’s horrifying and heart-breaking. Pay attention to the carefully choreographed staged directions, which tell as much of the story by their chess-like patterns as do the characters. A brilliant, unsettling, unfortunately necessary play.

I saw a production of this at the Fresh Fruit Festival in New York, and laughed for the entire playing time. Clever, witty, and hilarious, McCarthy's take on Shakespeare's "12th Night" played like gangbusters; it was never less than breezily entertaining, and it was frequently inspired. By Shakespeare, by the '60s, by the mob, and by McCarthy's daffy comic aesthetic. How wonderful!

"Life is a root canal; the pain is unbearable at times..." Best. Line. Ever. Well, one of the best, especially in the context of Gacinski's unrelentingly gritty two-hander chronicling the co-dependency of two talented but fucked up musicians, one of whom is desperately trying to clean up her act. Harrowing and gripping throughout, and not for the faint of heart.

A funny, witty, and ultimately heartbreaking glimpse into the frustrating vagaries and expectations to finding love in this age of apps swiping.

And now I’ve read the first of Weaver’s beach boy plays, and this is perhaps the most poetic and magically ambiguous of them all. While all three perfectly capture an adolescent moment of change, this one has a slight undertow of menace which adds an even more realistic — and alluring — tone to these tales of sexual awakening. Beautiful.

What is so fascinating about this LGTBQ version of Weaver’s “Two Boys on the Beach” is that none of the charm, wonder, bravado, and heartache of that moment in childhood when everything irrevocably changes is lost by the switching of one character’s gender. This is important to remember, because for some people it may change everything, but it shouldn’t because it doesn’t: it is still a beautiful play that gently captures those joyful/sad last moments of innocence we all experience, no matter our sexual orientation.