Recommended by Claudia Haas

Sugar is a tightly-woven, suspenseful take on a subject that cannot get enough exposure. It will take your breath away. It needs to be produced everywhere.

Sullivan’s play has given a heightened definition to the term “warrior princess.” Love is in these pages. And respect. Something we need more of. How wonderful to find it here.

The play tackles life’s biggest occasions (love, grief, loss, family). In Mabey’s skilled hands, we are gifted with a personal story that is everyone’s. We know these characters, we root for their journeys. We forgive foibles. We hope for the best. There is more than a complicated hope at play here. There is complicated love, a complicated family, and a sense of gratitude that with all the complications, we are the better for them.

I love the layers on these two characters: the lies they tell each other and the truths that brim over. As both characters take off their masks of “indifference” and “I just don’t want to be lonely,” we see the possibility of a friendship. McLindon’s play addresses the awkwardness of starting something new with humor laced with humanity.

Spot on and scary because we don’t need to give theatres and patrons clues as to the need for the constant world premiere. I laughed anyway. Fun take on the short play festivals.

Laughed and laughed in-between my gasps of surprise. The nuances of this sibling rivalry are both hilarious and oh-so specific. The dialogue crackles. The play wows. A duet where there’s something for everyone - the actors and the audience.

Oh the twists, the hair in the wind, the murder. Read it and decide for yourself what happened. After all, murder is in the eyes of the beholder.

Ruetz blends history and legend with art and the natural world to give us a coming-of-age tale that will engage the youngest of audiences. It's unique, filled with surprise, and crafted with care. The design elements are rich with possibilities. It's a lovely addition to the TYA canon.

The play evokes so much: our bags of regret, artifacts, memories - all in a jumble. And then there is the question of getting on the bus to someplace new or staying out where you know the landscape. Deceptively simple, the play is nuanced and complicated. The truth is, you never know the next step while you wait on a bench.

The Mad Hatter brought us unbirthdays. And Kaplan wickedly gives us Diane Arbus’s Unchristmas cards. That’s all you need to know. Read it.