Recommended by John Busser

We like to be the hero of out own story, don't we? Len does as he tries to tell us (or is it himself) in this marvelous monologue by Paul Smith. He doesn't do that sort of thing anymore. He's better now. It's all a mistake. These are the things we tell ourselves when confronted with our own failings, and Len is no different. Which makes this piece both horrible (at the possible crime) and relatable (we all try to justify, don't we?) at the same time. First-class writing Paul!

Though the presentation could be called absurd, the feelings behind it are very real and heartfelt. Greg Vovos shows us two characters hanging on by a thread in our strange present, and also shows us how connected we all are in that strangeness. And that strange connection may be all that helps us get through our days. Dinosaur masks and a lack of pants may also help.

I think this monologue needs to be shown to an audience of community theater directors with a big "PAY ATTENTION" sign preceding it. As someone who's been in one of these travesties, I think Emily hits the nail on the head. This is a neat little stocking stuffer for a one act festival.

I love the theatricality of this piece. Set on a ferry with two women each playing their roles to perfection, Ryan Kaminski gives us a really intriguing two-hander, complete with hidden motives, last minute revelations, and of course, murder. And although a real murderer may not acknowledge her undoing the way Mrs. Leigh does here, it is the perfect capper to this darkly comic interaction. I would respond in kind if I ever see this staged.

Conflicted characters and conflicted actors are never a good mix, unless they combine to form an hilarious conflict on stage as Andrew Martineau has done here. The mixing of motivations, both real and fictional blurs here just enough to make the result funnier and definitely better than the original intended piece. I'd love to see this onstage somewhere.

Well that went dark quickly, but boy, what a fun way to do it. Dominica Plummer has a deranged sense of humor. Just when I thought the story would go one way, she ups the ante and twists it deeper. Pay attention here, even when the characters are not. It could make the difference between life and lunch.

Relatable comedy comes from all the things Allie Costa has on display here: Characters with enough of a difference of viewpoints to make the interaction interesting, a common goal approached from uncommon angles, some fears and insecurities thrown in for good measure, and improv, which, as Grizz states, is really what life is all about. Clever and fun.

Life is a mixture of the good, the bad, and the mundane, and in that mix, we come together in all our awkward, self-conscious glory. Scott Sickles captures this perfectly in a (memory?) monologue detailing a short stay at a Boy's State Gathering in which he experiences highs, lows and the confusing in-betweens of whatever life throws our way. Evocatively written, Scott opens the curtains and gives us a glimpse into one boy's life and in some ways, lets us see into a mirror as well.

There's irony in Philip Middleton Williams' monologue here. The idea that simple words on paper are more powerful than all the bureaucracies of man is a good one, but it is being wielded by a teacher stepped on by that very same bureaucracy. The teacher is right though, as ideas are notoriously hard to squelch, and he/she feels it important for his/her students to remember that. If only one at a time. This is beautiful writing.

Extremely creepy and tension filled, this slow burn of a play is a timely reminder of how disease turns people into a monstrous version of themselves as self-preservation and paranoia seep in like an infection. And like most tales of this type, the cost in human terms is unbearable at times. This is a terrific play.