Recommended by Vince Gatton

I got to do a reading of this script a couple of years back, and I'm happy to say it's a delight. Palmer sticks tight to the original plot, but recasts these characters into contemporary groups and tribes that one wouldn't ever imagine colliding -- yet they do here, magically, creating satisfying and thought-provoking frictions throughout. Shakespeare fans will find themselves impressed and delighted with the adaptation's many smart choices, and newbies will enjoy a wildly entertaining ride on its own terms. Kudos also for capturing diverse aspects of Appalachian life and people that many outsiders don't know exist.

What am I, made of stone? I'm a sucker for wordplay and romance, and this short winner is loaded with both. It's a freaKen' delight.

I am a sucker for writing that sets itself this high a challenge bar and pulls it off. Nathan Christopher has given us a palindrome play: two scenes, where the dialogue in scene 2 is exactly the same as scene 1 but in reverse. That it’s even coherent is impressive, but Nathan Christopher achieves more than that: this dark, funny, sexy, charming film noir about Genesis is packed with allusion, allegory, and great character detail. Impressive.

Well, you think you know what’s going on here, but you’re very wrong. Immensely actable with multiple levels of tension that crackle and pop, this short piece delivers in unexpected and satisying ways.

A dynamite addition to the "family gathers for a funeral" genre that feels as fresh and exciting as if it were the first one. Humor and pain are the love languages of this family -- and boy do I love them, in all their hilarious, sharp, miserable and loving glory. The whole thing is wildly entertaining -- laugh-out-loud funny with perfectly punctuated gut-punches -- and every role is a gem. There's not one of these brothers I wouldn't want to play, and actresses will drool over the chance to play their unforgettable Mom. A very, very smart brain built this.

The physical intimacy of this premise, the extreme volubility of one of the characters, and (perhaps) your own baked-in story expectations contribute to building a terrific amount of tension here, tension that turns out to be no less real for having been so effectively misdirected. A fun and ruthless little journey.

A very moving family story whose characters, plot points, and even formal devices are all more messy, complicated, and nuanced than they may at first appear. Young Isaac's pursuit of the mystery of his paternity, and his mother's ghostly magical-realist intervention/narration, are made fresh by the many surprises that lie in store for both of them. Underneath it all is a beautiful story about how love unexpressed stifles the very ability to express love, and how sticky a mother-son bond can be regardless.

(Also: THIS IS A FIRST DRAFT???? How dare Nick Malakhov. How dare he.)

Well, this is a delight: an entire romantic comedy with nary a wasted word. The “just the facts” use of narration here (as opposed to fully articulated inner monologues) creates a highly theatrical, surprisingly emotional, and deeply relatable story. A terrific illustration of how a gesture, a look, or a breath can speak volumes.

If The Miss Firecracker Contest and The Secret Garden had a baby in the holler, it would look very much like MISS MOONLITE BBQ PAGEANT, a tale of loss, healing, and BBQ concoctions. Martin shares Beth Henley’s love of oddballs and outcasts, but her people have a more Appalachian edge; in her hands, tried and true plot elements feel fresh, and generous doses of salt keep sentimentality at bay even as the characters (and this reader) go through hugely emotional journeys. Sage Martin is a young writer with a whiskey voice and an enormous, quivering heart. One to watch.

This science-fiction suspense drama gives you high stakes, compelling characters, well-calibrated tensions, and moments of deeply relatable humor and vulnerability. When the old world is falling apart, the better world you strive for is suddenly in grave doubt, and your sources of information and authority can’t be trusted, how do you keep going? For a play written in 2015, it feels uncomfortably on-point here in the year 2020. My lesson: Listen to Kari Bentley-Quinn.