Recommended by John Patrick Bray

I love Scott Sickles's plays. He can do it all: period pieces, romances, and SciFi dystopias that leave us with a sense of hope that we can be better. (Can we? With people like Sickles in the world, I do have hope.) With TESSERACT, we encounter a world that would have seemed impossible ten years ago. It's devastating. It's Earth-Shattering. It's beautiful. I feel I will only echo what everyone else has said here, but this is truly a work that needs to be experienced. Haunting and necessary.

The characters pop off the page in this wonderful and at times satiric (of later generation Bohemians who feel they have discovered drugs and Marxism) yet sincere play by Ian Thal. The poetry infused madness of the evening feels honest, raw, and for poor Jonah, deeply confusing. The last line is simultaneously heartbreaking and funny, which speaks to Thal’s mastery of his craft. I would love to see this play produced!

How does one recapture their creative spirit when the past looms large? Is it possible to give ourselves grace when we feel forever haunted by the thoughts of roads not taken? Kato creates a circumstance which may look familiar in the first few pages but turns it on its head thanks to a major poignant reveal (more than one, truly). I do hope to see this play make its way out into the world. Knowing several of Kato’s works, I dare say this is some of his strongest writing to date. Beautiful.

Kara Emily Krantz gives us such a lovely surprise with Park & Play. The canine characters each have their own unique voice and physicality; and it's remarkably relatable - how many times have we been open to new experiences with new people? How often do we close ourselves off from the possibility of new friendships? This short play gives me faith in humanity. I also highly recommend listening to the work on Gather by the Ghost Light.

If you build a replica of Stonehenge in your yard (using your scary neighbor’s landscape stones without permission), will it make you feel bigger, will it make the wonders of the world feel closer, or maybe just smaller? Priskorn gives us a touching and comedic look at a couple trying to pick up the proverbial pieces after one of them makes an irreversible mistake that costs them not only a trip to see the real thing, but possibly their marriage. Maybe a small Stonehenge can provide a much needed miracle, which may last even after the neighbor finds out.

The way the townsfolk at the local diner talk about RuthAnn, I feel like I know her! What starts as a folksy Our Townish piece takes a deliberate turn. There are secrets Sara has been keeping. A secret. A big one. Fans of Sam Shepard and Horton Foote would do well to check out this truly terrific play by Debra A. Cole - what an ending!

Two strangers on a park bench. One wishes for silence. The other wants to talk about ducks. Whistling ducks, in fact. They mate for life. If one loses the other it’s abject heartbreak. But Agnes is here to let David know that it’s okay. And in doing so reminds us all that when it’s time to let go, there is no defeat in doing so. We the living carry the loss while those who leave may find a peace in their release. Friedman has written a truly resonate piece.

LeBlanc’s characters are so richly textured it’s hard to believe this is a work of fiction. My mother-in-law had dementia; moments in this play hit home. Really hard. Leblanc should be commended for handling such a terrifying and heartbreaking issue with such patience and kindness towards his characters. I feel like I know Lou. I highly recommend this work!

I love the notion that what we see in a work of art is a projection of ourselves, imposing meaning from our own subjective stance, and often how much we (well, men in this case) decide what it is we want to see based on our prescribed notion of an artist based on their gender/sex. Freud, man. Dans Hall turns Freud (and by extension, Lacan) on his head. Mulvey-esque joy. I highly recommend this play!

It is such a treat to read a play written by someone who is sure in their craft, guiding the reader from one moment to the next, foregrounding rich and nuanced characters who all feel like real people just trying to make sense out of human desires and mortality. Friedman's play is emotionally resonant, but never saccharine. It's honest. The most surprising arc is that of Katherine, Brian's mother; I won't say more here because you should experience the play yourself. These are great roles and I truly hope to see it produced.