Recommended by Jillian Blevins

Daniel Prillaman’s knack for writing genre is in full effect in this fantasy adventure. Set in a mideval world that’s familiar yet totally original, RATOH’s greatest asset is it’s dynamic use of language; at times evoking Shakespearean formality, at others colloquial directness, and, in his dreamlike personifications of the sun and moon, poetry. These linguistic shifts are pulling triple duty, telling us much about relationship and character arcs, as well as offering clues to the intricacies of this darkly fantastical world. In a departure from typical quest stories, complex female characters are front and center.

ARIADNE’S WAKE is unlike any play I’ve read before, employing a concrete-poetry device in which the language of its beach-bound heroines takes the form of the waves which have borne away their mutual friend. This wildly inventive structure gives the play a rhythm of its own, and binds its dialogue to its setting and themes. Having lost their shared sense of purpose, Cross’s abandoned ladies-in-waiting are at odds, even as they each embrace and reject received notions of femininity. ARIADNE’S WAKE explores what divides women, what we owe each other, and the invisible strings connecting us.

CS Jones writes perfect dialogue. The best way I can explain it is I assume that he has extra synapses in the part of the brain responsible for making connections between language and ideas and subconscious knowing. STRING THEORY dramatizes the true, complex love life of a young August Strindberg in a way that feels at once compellingly salacious, romantically heartbreaking, and high-brow erudite. It’s also a villain origin story, as we watch Strindberg grow from a worshipful romantic to the brilliant, tortured misogynist who authored Miss Julie. Jones has written another infuriatingly spectacular play.

Anyone who has worked in customer service will experience instant and gut-wrenching recognition at the darkly funny/hilariously sad events of LINDA’S DONUTS. Surrey Houlker’s play snapshots the daily indignities, large and small, being suffered behind every coffee counter and fast food register, and asks how—and why—we’re meant to put our souls and sanity on the line for a cup of coffee and a meager hourly wage.

Houlker once again centers queer characters of different generations whose imperfect alliance is a rickety life-raft on unfriendly seas. LINDA’S DONUTS is a stand-out 10-minute play.

Sometimes it feels like the world has been ending for 25 years. BIG BLACK GIRAFFE’s absurd apocalypse—and its exciting final image—shows just how immune and numb we’ve become, and captures the constant looming threat of The End with monster-movie chaos.

THE SCRAMBLING CLASS plays out like a darkly funny who-dunnit—but rather than a mansion full of murderer suspects, it’s a remote campsite teeming with poisonous secrets between group of old high school friends. As facades fall away and truths are revealed, the group’s transformation unfolds believably and surprisingly at once. Tofte’s tense pacing and layered dialogue (especially effective when the group is managing two or three simultaneous conversations) propel this nightmarish camping trip towards it’s grim conclusion like a bullet from a gun. And you thought your ten-year reunion was bad.

In this furious, searing 10-minute play, Antigone and Ismene are Black women at odds over how to confront the injustice of a second familial death at the hands of racist police. Marie Mayingi’s ANTIGONE rages against her sister’s respectability politics in the face of systemic injustice, while a wearied Ismene’s experience has taught her to play by the rules. Mayingi takes no prisoners as she gets right to the heart of Sophocles’ tragedy, which proves to be a painfully perfect allegory for a very real debate surrounding #BlackLivesMatter. Would love to read a full-length version!

I’m a firm believer that there’s no greater indicator of compatibility than a shared sense of humor. POST OVERNIGHT DISTRESS’ characters experience morning-after regret following their drunken hookup, but their absurdly clever/cleverly absurd acronym game makes it clear to the audience (and the pair’s unseen friends) that they’re a perfect match.

Jones’ 10 minute love story is about an experience which very few rom-coms seem to capture: falling for someone’s brain. It’s a joy to watch Princess and Dude riffing together, as romantic as a tango. We should all be so lucky.

This taut and riveting one-act makes a family dinner party as high-stakes as a car-chase, barreling, in real time, towards an inevitable crash. HISTORY’s sci-fi premise begins with one question—“what would a world without men look like?”—which births a dozen more. (Would we still have to fight for reproductive justice in a matriarchy? Can one be an activist through art alone, or is it meaningless if you’re not willing to fight on the front lines? Is my Alexa sending my personal information to the government?) The ambiguous ending leaves us wondering long after the final page.

Desire is more complicated than we want to believe; the feeling of want can be so powerful that it obscures what may have sparked it. THE OKTAVIST is an ode to the ecstasy and the misery of all-consuming, blinding desire.

The setting—a Russian church 100 years in the past—would be inspiring to designers and directors alike, and has a moody specificity that carries Gatton’s metaphor well. Queer stories set in the past like THE OKTAVIST are an important reminder that we have always been here, and that we are part of the fabric of history.