Among literary couples of the past and present, there’s one couple you don’t want to emulate: Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes. Yes, they both won places in the poet’s pantheon. But she committed suicide at 30, in 1963, and to his dying day, in 1998, Hughes was haunted by her death and the copycat suicide of the women (Assia Wevill) for whom he left Plath. And yet obsession with the couple continues and this play channels that. The novelist Sally, once celebrated but now in a slump, has moved with her husband to the Boston apartment that Plath and Hughes rented for a year in the late 1950s. With her husband’s literary fame on the rise, Sally hopes she’ll find inspiration in the space. Written by Beth Hyland, Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia is called a “tragicomic thriller.” Expect ghosts. —Laura Jacobs