Recommended by Matthew Weaver

Diaz-Marcano excels at characters just hanging out, living their lives, while all the subtext and hurt and heartache simmers just below the surface. The discussions here are both RAW and REAL.
Y TU ABUELA reminds me of Franky Gonzalez's PALETAS DE COCO and Philip Middleton Williams' A TREE GROWS IN LONGMONT. Here is another shining example of a playwright exposing their heart bare for the audience to see and take in and nod knowingly in gratitude for the honesty and truth that is revealed.
Uncomfortable, and uncomfortably vulnerable. The best possible kind of art. Bless you, Nelson. **HUG**

I first experienced this play during the Spokane Civic Theatre's Playwrights Forum Festival in 2014. In the discussions afterward, one of the other directors commented that Lindsay's play had us all arguing about whether the character's take on legitimate reality was a mental illness, and meant Lindsay is very, very good at her craft. That comment has stayed with me, and is something I strive for in my own writing.
Lindsay blurs the lines between play and the audience like they have never been blurred before, and the result is warm, enchanting, heartbreaking and utterly compelling. A masterpiece.

WOW. Lindsay's work (also read her THIS ALMOST JOY and PUPPIES AND KITTENS) is often a marvel, and HOLY HELL is absolutely no exception.
It's one of the absolutely darkest stories possible, a story about the secrets and burdens that we carry and how they underlie even our best efforts to better ourselves.
Lindsay excels at exploring (so well!) humanity at its most selfish and most vulnerable.
Include this in your festival and you've got the play everyone in the audience will be talking about. As with most Lindsay plays, as has been my experience.
Holy hell indeed.

A Lindsay Partain play is something to be savored and reflected upon, and WHEREVER YOU GO is just such a play. It's deceptively simple and achingly complicated. It's a chance to be reunited with the person who loves you most, but who can't stay, for reasons. Partain packs Ondry and Cora's whole history into this 10-minute marvel, and perhaps their respective, if separated, futures. Ondry loves Cora, and we will know by the end whether Cora loves Ondry.
I shall be chewing on this play for a great while yet. Read it and let's discuss it together. Reflect and savor.

Awww! Another shining example of humans as dogs from a playwright who provides such lovely, reflective, humane material (check out ALL BARK, NO BITE!! and RECESS!!) in everything she writes.
In reading Krantz's PARK & PLAY, I was struck: At various times in my life I have been burnt-out, slightly exasperated Jessie; I have been rambunctious Lucy, eager to make friends. And I have been Archie, set in my ways and unable to relax and quite honestly, a bit of a sourpuss.
Krantz's gift: Lovely characters that speak to every part of us, while delighting us all the while.

An absurdist romp. And boy is it ever a ROMP!
And, as we have come to expect from Franky Gonzalez, even at the heights of superbly realized satire, every single syllable, every nuance, comes laced with deep thoughtfulness and unique expression of ideas.
And I haven't even gotten to the hippopotamus tracks that line some of the pages. Adorbs!
I fully expect theatrical directors across the globe to be lining up to give their eyeteeth for the chance to work with this script. Somewhere, Stanley Kubrick rolls in his grave, lamenting that Gonzalez wrote this too late.
A masterpiece.

Diaz-Marcano splits through hopelessness and finds grace.
Needed this today.
I think a lot of us do. And will. And will, as always, read Nelson's words and come away with a little hope of their own.
Good for any one-minute play festival, wordless play festival, NYC festival, or play festival, period. Period.

Great monologue for a youth performer! Lana is the perfect blend of rambunctious (she might run away to Peru if her parents won't let her get Maureen the llama) and thoughtful (llamas are maybe hyopoallergenic?)
A great way to entertain thespian kids, alongside many of Costa's other short plays (as of this writing she is sharing some of them on her Twitter account in the midst of the coronavirus quarantine; hopefully this eventually becomes a dated reference) and also a great introduction to Costa's excellent writing.
Plus, the world needs more llama plays. I'm sure you will agree.

Quietly devastating, and then just devastating - Carbajal captures in a single moment a testament to humanity's strength and resilience. And without a single word spoken.
When compiling items for a time capsule to depict life in this current moment, take everything else out and just go ahead and put Carbajal's play in there. You don't need a single item, or a single syllable, more.

Very cute, in that sort of way anything can be cute while also holding a sobering degree of truth while capturing the uncertainty of the now. Williams speaks to our hearts while they are anxious and while they yearn.