Recommended by Claudia Haas

There’s more than a fun read here (and it is). An awakening that takes place between two men waiting outside of Victoria’s Secret leaves you thinking of what we sell, what we buy, and what we crave. Covering sexuality, relationships, aging, and the too many facets of what a woman should be, Burdick nails this challenge in this short play. The ending is an opening.

Dark, birds of a feather, a child and her taxidermist. These are the things that nightmares are made of. With twists and turns, Farr leads us to places we have never been. And once there, we must accept all. There is no choice.

This is a fast-paced, breezy play that hits on a lot of truths. Friendship is explored on many levels: years together, shared experiences, sex, and common dreams. With a keen ear for 20-something dialogue, and an appreciation for the lives of these young people that have changed (and will continue to change), Wagner has devised a delightful ensemble piece. The questions posed in the play do not have easy answers. And Wagner doesn’t supply any. She does supply the humanity. Which is often the answer.

Under the umbrella of King Lear, we find Rachel chafing under the effects of the men in her life: fathers, lovers, and colleagues. As Rachel takes the biggest leap of her life, she comes to terms with the fathers who helped form her. Lepcio’s conclusion finds Rachel realizing her own resilience and self-worth both “because of” and “despite” her two fathers illuminates the relationships between fathers and daughters, There’s a fine line of regret, mistakes, and love that intertwine and as with Lear, are part of a daughter’s make-up. Imaginative, truthful and poignant.

Goldman-Sherman seamlessly ties social justice with theatre. With a magical beginning, we are treated to a meeting of two worlds with more in common than current events state. Stereotypes are shredded and a real conversation starts. A conversation that is the beginning of understanding. Which is a first phase to love. The play is ideal for high schools, colleges and regional theatres. Let the conversation begin.

Choosing between families - maybe one of the toughest choices there is. Tanforan highlights a family being torn apart during WWII - a family going to a Japanese internment camp for “their own good,” for “their protection.” With 3 meaty female roles to dig into and a still timely story, this play is ripe for production. It’s a sad nod to our past, present, and probably our future which is all the more reason to produce it now.

A play that keeps you guessing what road you are on. As you learn about Clare Hollingworth and her remarkable past, you are on a parallel road learning about Hong Kong and its adjustment from British rule to Chinese. Colonialism, the spoils of war, and the world of journalism are often bumpy, uncomfortable roads. Diamond navigates all with humor and grace. And leaves you wanting more.

With a country far too comfortable with lax gun control, Diamond offers us a monologue (and a life) that comes full circle with a gut-punching end. It’s impossible to be comfortable after reading this. It needs to be on many stages so that more Americans can grow uncomfortable with our out-of-control gun culture.

“And the phone begins to ring.” An ending or a beginning? Sometimes emergencies are not frantic. Sometimes they are still emergencies. A play with layers and questions. Sometimes you don’t want the answers. But they are there.

Grief. It takes as many forms as there are humans: a father’s shirt, wallpaper scrapings, vampire (yes, a vampire), compulsive shopping, a claw-foot tub. Walker finds these small remembrances and combines them to show us it is the small things in relationships that build to love. With a crackling mother-daughter relationship, a fantasy life, and a new friendship, we are treated to how we cope. New beginnings are as tough as endings. But there is beauty in the trying. Walker gives us the beauty.