Recommended by Aly Kantor

This quiet, deeply felt moment between friends might take place in an apartment building, or purgatory, or on a precipice - a place where to move up and on would be invigorating... if only they knew for sure they could fly. In the meantime, these two friends reflect on the subtle, terrifying transitions taking place around them through an easy shorthand that could only come from familiarity. It's clear that DeFrates sees these characters as clearly as they see one other. This strong, charming vignette stands alone but holds extra meaning as part of the Lost Children theatrical universe.

I streamed this play with AO3 and Tumblr open in my other tabs, and I felt very seen! I was particularly taken by the cadence of the funny, naturalistic dialogue in this high-stakes dramatic comedy. At its core, it's a found family story about two queer teens with very little true agency who are longing for safety. There was a fun sense of "will they-won't they' throughout as the events on stage echoed the anticipated events in "Mythical." The pain of being a hormonal teenager was tangible, with a beautiful final moment that felt real, deeply motivated, and well-earned.

This is such a sweet, hilarious father-daughter story in which the carefully placed strained silences say just as much as the snappy, clever dialogue. At first, the generational gap between these two well-drawn characters seems impossible to cross, but despite their strained relationship, they don't give up. In the tensest moments, the hilarious Janice keeps things light, helping steer this odd couple back on the right path. The piece is tender at even the tensest moments. It's relatable, familiar, and incredibly human, with a warm, emotional ending that suggests they were never quite as distant as they thought. Beautiful!

What a tense, emotionally fraught ten minutes of high-stakes genre theatre! The brilliance of this short play is how much of it happens between the lines - the parts we don't see engage the imagination and keep us participating as we make sense of the fragments. With very few tweaks, I could see this working as an effective audio drama - but it would be an equally exciting project for a creative team to tackle on stage. Depicting that kind of distance and the passage of time would be a wonderful artistic challenge!

Reluctant murders! Thematic storytelling through movement! Swordfighting! Heightened language! Duplicity! Ruminations on the nature and implications of power in the hands of mankind! I could keep listing and exclaiming, but I only have 100 words, and I need to use a few of them to talk about the tight, immersive worldbuilding, the endless possibilities for stunning staging, and the gorgeous, self-aware poetry of this piece! My biggest (only) gripe is that I have to wait for Part II to know what's going to go down in Mithun! Beautifully structured, visually stunning, and simultaneously original and familiar. Just read it!

What a fascinating short play! It starts off as a familiar enough scenario - a great employee sobbing alone in the supply closet, and a concerned supervisor addressing it - but as Taylor begins to recount their story, the scenario becomes ethically complex. It's an easily staged piece that will open up dialogues between audience members about the challenges of altruism under late capitalism. It's equally horrific and relatable, which is what makes it so effective. Are we all bad people, or did the world make us that way?

Before reading this retelling, the only Taro I was familiar with was the vegetable! After reading this efficient short play, I am newly enlightened! The tale has echoes of tales from Western mythology, like Pandora's box and Orpheus and Eurydice, and would fit in perfectly in an evening of global folk stories for the stage! The strength of this adaptation is the swift pacing, which carries us through 100 years in a tight ten minutes of colorful, motivated action. The final effect would be a particular joy for a creative team to solve!

This highly theatrical, visceral, and relatable play explores everything from grief to generational trauma in a vibrant, affective way from page one. It uses the unity of location to great effect, with a series of horrific events that turn an ordinary apartment into a very personal haunted house. This would be a dream for a design team - the "clean up" in the last scene will stay with me. Whether you read this play as a horror story or a love story, you're sure to come away with a sense of introspection about your own invisible demons.

This comedy takes the "meet the parents" trope and elevates it to new heights when suburban mundanity meets classic horror. A cast of well-drawn, vivid characters navigate prejudices as a benign zombie apocalypse ambles along in the background. The stellar set-up leads to hilarious stage moments, like the crew sipping wine with a flaming zombie in the background. The piece reaches a high-octane, chaotic pitch as zombies and judgmental relatives compete for on-stage dominance, and it becomes unclear which is really the biggest threat. As in all the best comedies, love ultimately saves the day! A gory, goofy romp!

I think love is simultaneously the shittiest and most worthwhile human experience, made squishy and messy through vulnerability - and what could be more vulnerable than loving a stranger? This fascinating, bracingly human short reminds us that every baby, whoever they are, begins as a stranger to the people who are supposed to love them most. My favorite part of this piece is the subtle love story at the center, the way we slowly watch Jake and Emily choose to endure that agonizing vulnerability together (and the realization that they have more experience in that area than most). Just lovely!