Recommended by Claudia Haas

Chilling. Imagine being relieved that there may be just a sexual assault in progress. Pascal gives us a life shrouded in fear and has learned to pick and choose which are the deadly fears. It’s a stand-alone monologue but now I want the entire play. A beautiful example of showing us without telling all.

Every child should have the universe tell you this. A thoughtful play about passing time, family, and connecting beautifully wrapped up in stars, a tree and sky. The silences are telling. The moments are finite and infinite. The feelings are forever.

“Sometimes you just need to let yourself need someone.” Speckman’s scenario beautifully captures that sentiment. In a tense back-and-forth between brothers (maybe) wanting to know each other, we are given a fractured relationship between two siblings. Little-by-little we start hoping for the best for both of them. Even it it’s unlikely. There’s not a lot of room in a small hotel with one bed. But there’s always hope.

Rinkel has been reading my mind. And the minds of playwrights (and probably the minds of “creatives” everywhere). While Rinkel questions why he stays on a particular path, the fact is he does stay on the path. I particularly was intrigued by the agent who is only interested in the MFA-young-playwright whose life has not been a preparation but years of academia. Just a nicely-done quiet observation. The play is filled with them.

As I read the ending, I instantly thought of so many variations in playing this. There are a myriad of truths here and in all combinations - they compose a life. Read it (produce it) and then sit on a stool or a blanket and have a nice, long think.

In a scant ten-minutes, Foster creates a future that is terrifying. As we ponder how much of our brain cells we use, the government has managed to harness brain waves as a renewable energy. Sounds ideal, right? Cost-effective. No fossil fuels. But the price tag is higher than it seems. Foster shows us that it always is.

A fable for our times. Beware: This play will unite conspiracy theorists! And make you watch the skies. And ... leave your phone at home... and cancel your Amazon subscription. Don’t believe me? Read it and then check what ads are targeting you... drones are everywhere. (It’s also a lot of fun.)

An evergreen ... err ... timeless play for the holidays. Forget Santa. Tannenbaum should visit every home in December giving true comfort and joy. And if you’re in the market for a Christmas tree/Chanukah bush - you’ll be looking for an artificial one after reading this play.

Kaplan gives us a fantastical look at the Bronte siblings and their legacy. We get a welcome glimpse into a writer’s life that is highly theatrical with none of the “cliched writer scenes” that pepper many plays. In childhood, Branwell’s imagination and generosity fueled his sisters’ talents. It’s especially poignant to see the changes in their positions from childhood to adult. Meticulously researched, the play offers us a look at a family of artists coping with loss, success, and jealousy - wrapped in love.

Sly prayers, sports prayers, heartfelt prayers - an anthology could be created on the notion of prayer to individuals (and yes, insects). McClain touches on what prayer is for different people and what it does for them. I love how each prayer reveals more about the person (and insect) praying than about the prayer itself. There’s a welcome variety here told with wit and compassion.