Recommended by John Busser

Sometimes a person has a much deeper cavity that needs filling. I realize that sounds dirty but it's not what I mean. Miranda has some holes in her character that could use some filling. And no magazine article in a dentists office is going to fill that void. But damn, does this fun little monologue by D. Lee Miller sound authentically vapid enough to make Miranda seem like a real life person, hole-in-character and all. A great monologue for an actress to chew on. Just don't break a tooth doing it.

Matthew Weaver writes a clever and funny as all get out play about the lives of Bigfeet, who, as it turns out, are just like us. Petty, territorial and just wanting our own pot (or tree) to piss in. And yet, they are the best of friends. Just like us. This is delightful stuff from a guy that knows how to stake his territory in the funny zone.

Crossed wires (or in this case, zoom links) result in a charming meet cute for an exercise nut running into a woman working for those experiencing the ultimate cool down. It's fast-paced, banter-style language perfectly captures the drive to succeed for both these two. One wants to complete a regimen, the other a sale. The fact that they are working at cross purposes only adds to the charm as they discover more about each other. It's cross-fitting, you might say. (Okay, I'm sorry for that last one.)

What I liked most about this monologue is the specificity Alice displays in her analysis of every rival to the role she wants. We all do this, casting a harsh light on those we feel get breaks they don't deserve while we stand off to the side, and only basking in their accomplishments. Alice just wants one chance to be that one specific beacon for a change. And even when she is awarded her own shining moment (Miss Marple), it isn't the same. This piece is so identifiable to those who choose to step into the footlights.

They say there are no atheists in foxholes. Lee Lawing shows us there aren't too many in college football stadiums either. This sharp, funny 10 minutes goes down like there's two minutes on the clock with no time outs left. It's time for a desperation play. In this case, it's not quite a Hail Mary, but it's close enough. And I loved the fact that the representative from the more religious-based university couldn't deliver the goods when it came down to it. I thought it would end in a tie and was pleasantly surprised when it didn't. Bravo!

Wow! Just wow! This piece from Vivian Lermond completely blind-sided me! I've seen stories or people dealing with dementia, but never saw the dark turn this took coming. These characters are so well written, and the whole time you want them to succeed. You want Gina to break through to her mother and you're also pulling for Rosie to come back to the way she was, and she does, but not in the way you want. A tragic incident from her past comes into clarity much to the horror of her daughter. Just terrific stuff!

A wonderful character piece by Sabrina Rose Bivens. We all do this. We tell ourselves things, alternative narratives to explain the inconvenient truths about ourselves. Maybe not to this extent, but we all fictionalize our truths at some point. Appropriately enough, the holidays are always a good time to put up the facades we create, just like decorations, covering up the holes in our psyches. Gladys shows us that they can be as fragile as the ornaments we hang. The ending packs a powerful statement about the true power of our stories and the effect they have on others.

If Andy hadn't done what he did at the very end (I won't spoil it), I would have been very disappointed. It's tough enough making connections in this world, without bringing our own prejudices into the mix, and sometimes it's so knee-jerk, we don't even realize we're doing it. We all just want to be recognized for what we are, and this is shown beautifully by Margie Semilof. Acceptance is a two way street. Hopefully, Andy learned it just in time.

As I read and the slow reveal of what was really going on hit home, I was both moved and saddened by what a tragedy did to this poor woman. Erin Osgood's dialogue rings true showing a woman desperately trying to get things right and not understanding why it's not helping the situation. There are no do overs in real life. This piece perfectly exemplifies that.

Turnabout is fair play here in the most consequential way as an author (whose knee-jerk response to his predicament is to malign his captor, thus ensuring his stay will not end) gets the comeuppance he deserves for years of killing off the women in his stories, treating them as nothing more than an impetus for the hero. His reactions more than seal his doom. They point out in dark comic fashion that we still have a long way to go to get out of the deep freeze of ignorance and misogyny. Creepy fun.