Jason Peters
Local Culture Editor

Jason Peters tends a small acreage in Ingham County, Michigan, and teaches English at Hillsdale College.
A founding member of FPR, he is the editor-in-chief of Local Culture: A Journal of the Front Porch Republic and editor emeritus of Front Porch Republic Books.
His books include The Culinary Plagiarist: (Mis)Adventures of a Lusty, Thieving, God-Fearing Gourmand (FPR Books 2020), Wendell Berry: Life and Work (University Press of Kentucky 2007), Land! The Case for an Agrarian Economy, by John Crowe Ransom (University Press of Notre Dame, 2017), and Localism in the Mass Age: A Front Porch Republic Manifesto (co-edited with Mark T. Mitchell for FPR Books, 2018).
Articles by Jason Peters
From the Editor–Local Culture 2.1
Although the basic principle of widely distributed property may be known and competently grasped—it is a tune that in America had been played in a Jeffersonian key, after all—it is…
And To All A Good Night
Too soon the mistletoe will be a garland.
Blessed With Triple Ds: A Dispatch from Dumb-Ass Acres
This is a description of small-town life and the help you can expect to receive from people not conditioned to give strangers the finger.
Happy 60th, Bill Kauffman
". . . among the keenest minds in contemporary American letters." ---Allan Carlson
Dying Properly—like a Dumb Ass (A Dispatch)
Little do I know that in a few days I will have died properly: by explosion.
From the Editor–The Inaugural Issue of Local Culture
And so in 2019, at the tenth annual FPR conference marking FPR’s tin anniversary, we are pleased to bring out the first issue of Local Culture: A Journal of the…
Ecce Hortus: A Dispatch from Dumb-Ass Acres
Put in a garden and watch it come to life.
And Then Begin Again With What Remains: A 10-Year FPR Retrospective
On the tenth anniversary of FPR we must admit a little sadly that we’re still relevant.
When the Witch of November Comes Stealin’
There’s a certain aching joy in the chill of regret.
Walking in a Dead Man’s Shoes
A woman in another kind of grief uttered the terrible “should have been.”
On Being Less than We Are
What you miss out on by not making the climb is too great a loss on such a morning as this.
The Holy Waters, the Bra Tree, and The Unexpected: A Study in Contrasts; Or, Gone Fishin’ (Again)
And then comes the last kayak, plenty buoyant, and in it a beauty contestant in minimal black swimwear.


