Recommended by Asher Wyndham

The pacing, the thought process of this character, the unfolding of backstory is perfect, believable ,absorbing. Heartbreaking monologue on mourning. A great monologue for a festival on motherhood or mourning.

I laughed nonstop. These fleeting app convos are spot-on, capturing perfectly through imperfect language so much about gay hookup culture. It's sexy, silly, and serious.

I love this poetic monologue. A celebration of bees, their benefit to us, their beauty. We need environmental monologues like this more often.

It's a combination of funny and sad. You laugh but the more Lindsay speaks to pug, the more you think about people like her on the holiday season, locked inside unable to celebrate like others for reasons most people don't know. Using diabetes as a way to focus on the larger subject and theme is a surprising one. Makes you think about Lindsay on the other holidays...

At first you might not find yourself relating to this woman complaining at the theatre, but the more she speaks you're surprised you identify with her in a way. Rarely does theatre criticize theatre, and we need more of it like this little gem. I would love to see this character criticizing other venues, events.

Another soulful piece from Steven G. Martin. This playwright takes his time with this monologue (and others), the words don't come out fast (like a lot of monologues), there are pauses, a natural progression of storytelling to a stranger that reveals emotional depth in its speaker. Most monologue writing playwrights rarely create such a compelling, complex character in a few pages. Another winning monologue for an older actor. This play reminds you to be friendly in the lobby before the box office opens because you never know someone might have a story to tell.

Simpatico wakes you up to a reality in Evangelical Christianity through the voice of a preacher. Yes, the preacher is a caricature, but it's not too far from the truth -- many preachers are about power over people, about more property for an all-Christian America, about damnation and exclusion, not Christ-centered love and hospitality. Rarely do playwrights put on stage vile people like this one, racists and homophobes - we need more of them not so that we can just laugh at them but wake us up to what is coming our way.

You might plug your nose at the start of this when you find out what this Appalachian woman is cooking in her trailer. But then she starts talking about her unusual passion for cooking and makes a compelling argument -- and you imagine you're breathing in what she's added to the pot. And then she makes another argument about expanding your horizons, not just at the table, but in life. Bigger than life, strong-willed and determined, this compelling character is one the audience will just love to hang out with in her trailer.

I like how this monologue plays with us as we go along trying to figure out this woman, whether or not she's someone we can have empathy for. There's a pleasure in sitting back like this character, a few feet from an imagined cliff, reading the words slowly, and hearing the voice in your head. A great role for a senior actor.

A memory monologue that paints vivid imagery, reminding us some pain remains, leaving scars for the rest of our lives. A perfect monologue for a senior actor.