Recommended by Matthew Weaver

Hageman draws you in with an irresistibly appealing voice and, once you've fallen in love with these adorable characters ("That's you. You're the poop") and everything is going hunky-dory and safe, she sucker punches you with reality and history and the result is pure magic and oh my word why doesn't this have all the awards and a longer production history and why isn't it performed each year throughout the year ... Here is a play that celebrates history, learning, teachers, young people, particularly young women, kind young men, growing up and being the ones who shape our own stories.

A tour de force in waiting for two powerhouse actresses. Wigglesworth pairs an actress seemingly past her prime with the young woman who has been tending to her dressing room and sees how they survive an evening in a blackout while riots and looting go on outside. A very strong and moving piece. The writing here is a marvel, as Lily and Celeste impart gifts onto each other and find one another in the dark.

A too-young (although is there an appropriate age?) school shooting victim simplifies things by telling us numbers. Hoke lets the charm of her character, in oh-so-simple MATH, slowly unwind the sheer horror, great and small. "There are one thousand four hundred eighty-five people who live in Rancho Tehama. That’s the biggest number I know of. " This is a short piece, but Hoke is as powerful and as thoughtful here as any of her work. Elegant, quiet, deceptively simple, and quite effective.

Burbano lays her rage, her heart, her soul, bare on these pages and on the stage. A stark, timely, provocative, work of pure honesty and anger. She is as true with her words here as she is with all of her other works. An amazing blend of Kafkaesque fear and raw, simmering social satire - gifts she has honed to the point of mastery. Expect to see THE PEN performed a LOT, and audience discussions to flow for hours after. If you haven't read or staged a Diana Burbano play before now, what the hell is keeping you?!

Effective and heartwrenching, Yancey takes one of the most chilling details from reports of gun violence (he cites a particular incident, I heard about it in another, which just goes to show how sadly commonplace such events have become) and brings it to life in a piece that speaks for itself ... and for the victims of such murders and the helpers who come along and have to face the aftermath. Simple stage directions underline the tragedy of such events. Yancey's words here are both a moment of silence for victims and a call to arms for we who remain.

Aw and ah and awe. After the death of her mother, Eva is ready for her life to begin, and gets the chance to maybe jump-start it with the boy she's loved from afar for so long, for the first time (???) he's ... up close. Haas does a lovely job of making us love Eva - favorite stage direction "do have a sandwich" as she pulls items out of her purse, and it pays off! - particularly as she berates Jake for taking away a "wicked" moment from her. A chance for two seasoned (perhaps unsung?) performers to shine.

Perlmutter starts off strong, with an intriguing couple, as Staci wakes up boyfriend Craig and asks for ideas to develop a story about a vampire. She compulsively becomes swept up in the characters, who promptly take on lives of their own and have their own thoughts about their development. Perlmutter underlies the fun of watching the story unfold - playwrights in the audience will watch this keenly and relate - with undercurrents of Staci's mental health, making for a touching juxtaposition. Sexy and a little bit (writer) geeky in all the best ways. A fun, challenging, thought-provoking piece.

Krantz warmly borrows the SYLVIA concept from A.R. Gurney, embraces it wholeheartedly and more than makes it her own, as fussy pet Eugene reacts to sudden upheaval in his owner Charlotte's life: Meeting steady boyfriend Robert's dog Bella for the first time. (From the get-go, we learn there's more upheaval than even Eugene suspects.) It's obvious Krantz takes sheer joy in her story; that degree of warmth and affection for her characters is infectious. This is destined to be a crowd pleaser. And, as good as the roles for performers are, a special shout-out for showstealing Alfred, the plant.

Masterful. Levine instantly draws us in with full-fledged, lovable, neurotic characters who wear their hearts on their sleeves (it's like he's done this before or something) and are instantly recognizable, particularly for those of us who are fledgling writers just waiting for that one chance. Feels like a classic, and for good reason. Every line is quick, acerbic and completely heartfelt. I particularly liked Alan offering to help Sarah by sleeping with her to break her creative drought, and every bit of the preternaturally gifted Doug Manoogalarian is pure gold, among many highlights. Levine shows us how it's done.

Wow, wow, wow. In just a few moments Wyndham nails his character exquisitely and breaks your heart completely. What audience member, what parent, would be able to sit in a moment like this and not be shaken to the core? I expect this to get a LOT of production time. Elegant in its sheer simplicity, this is a four-page ballet. The excellent title will draw audiences in, the excellent writing will have them leaving the theater thoroughly affected. Some will think: My kid has had a moment like that. Others will think: Oh, god, was my kid the bully?