Recommended by Matthew Weaver

Yes, Hageman can break your heart. Yes, her writing can sucker-punch you in the gut right when you least expect it.
BUT BUT BUT
She is also fully capable of making you snort hot tater tots out your nose when you innocently, unsuspectingly read a play and come across a devastatingly dry, wry sentence.
CHECK ME OUT has many of these.
It is an elegant rebuttal to anyone who questions the existence of libraries, and celebrates the best parts about reading books.
But mostly this one will make you snort hot tater tots out your nose, which hurts. A LOT.

I am a particular fan of Asher's environmentally-minded kid monologues, and this is a gem among gems. Asher clearly had fun writing this one - the neigbor's question of "Is your unicorn kid all right?" had me laughing out loud. Teachers, give this one to your theater kids who are full of boundless energy and optimism and ready for a challenge. Wyndham peppers the serious message with loads of wit - and an interesting, apparently long-running grudge with the principal. I imagine Wyndham's Unicorn Kid, Turtle Kid, Dolphin Kid, Earthworm Kid and other kids teaming up to save the world.

I may love this play of Mullen's even more than I love his THE PEEK, and I really, really, really love THE PEEK.
NINJAS finds two women reuniting at the airport on their way back to their school reunion. Fear gives way to bravery and old wounds give way to the truth, unearthing a tender, stealth love story we all wish we could have.
How lovely of Mullen to allow us to share in Hannah and Kate's.

Carnes offers a scorching psychological examination of a couple in disarray as they wait for their therapy appointment. We definitely see why this is a relationship in crisis, but we also see why Zac and Deb are a good pair. Carnes perfectly captures so many of the reasons why adulting, and romance while adulting, are hard, from missing Early Bird registration to always being out of milk and bananas to the slippery slope that is deciding on an emergency contact number to put down on paperwork. So much paperwork. A fun outing, peppered with so many uneasy, nodding truths.

Goldman-Sherman boldly makes we the audience as uncomfortable as possible, holding a mirror up to all of us and asking us to hold eye contact with our reflections. She erases any separation between the performers and the viewer and dares us to look away. If you can read this script or come away from a performance of it unchanged ... well, there is no "if." Because you can't. The kind of art we needed all along, so we wouldn't have to need it now. Stellar. Chilling. Stellar. Heartwrenching.

There's just something about Asher and his monologues for young performers. JANINE is a tour de force, and Wyndham gives the future Janines of the world a spotlight that allows for a rainbow of all of the emotions - bold, brave and yet a lovely underlying element of heartbreak. If there's a soul in the audience who isn't moved by the depth and meaning to Janine's beloved fanny pack, I sure as heck don't want 'em sitting next to me.

Oh, our hearts. Krantz writes about that most painful of relationships - the heartless, greedy parent and the child they leave in their wake. We watch and we bear witness to the speaker's truth, and we feel for them, and root for them, as they take steps to protect themselves and protect their hearts, while leaving a sliver of an opening, one more chance for the parent who keeps on hurting them to change. But, next time - on the speaker's terms. Krantz lays her heart bare, and our hearts beat in solidarity with hers.

Wyndham considers this a comedy, but it's really written for those of us who have stood in line at the grocery store and have to be cognizant of every dollar, dime and penny that we have. What greater luxury would there be than to be able to stride into the store and purchase CHEESE, especially the unpronounceable, intimidating cheeses that come from far-off lands? It can inspire flights as fanciful as these. A strong monologue from an expert monologue-ist. Added bonus: If I'm ever in the audience, I'm sitting up front in hopes of catching a Kraft Single.

O'Grady offers a wonderful tale tinged with sadness. Thumper the rabbit shares the experiences of their life with us - mostly good, safe from predators, but there's also that sense of what pure, wild freedom would feel like. It's short, but there's so much meaning beneath Thumper's words. Thumper does their best to look on the bright side, but O'Grady boldly shows us how their heart is quietly breaking. And quietly breaks our hearts right alongside.

"I saw Jesus in Gurabo. And he gave me a ham and cheese sandwich."
Lovely. Just lovely. Diaz-Marcano gives us a hell of a hero in Leslie and a beautiful story of faith in the midst of the hardest of hard times. This play gives us so many perspectives that are sadly underserved in theater, that I think audiences hunger for. The tale here is much like its Jesus: Patiently welcoming, yet firm in what is right. It's so easy to lean back, let Nelson's words take you by the hand and bring you along for the experience.