Author Archives: first person productions

By Kurt McGinnis Brown “My Islands” originally appeared in Wisconsin Writers Association Creative Wisconsin magazine, October 2025. I’m in love with islands.  Their siren call streams through me like those neutrinos constantly passing through all of us.  Thinking of an … Continue reading →

By Marlene Samuels This January in Chicago, where I feel fortunate to have settled, temperatures have given me a serious “deja vu” attack. Our arctic blast brought to mind a period in my life I’d all but forgotten! Until my … Continue reading →

By Faith Ellestad It was a celebration of someone’s life, and I dreaded going. What was the matter with me?  Normally, although I don’t look forward to such occasions, I’m okay to go.  But this was different.  We weren’t close to … Continue reading →

By Loriann Knapton In our house when I was growing up, you didn’t go to the doctor unless you were A. bleeding to death or B. weren’t breathing. Anything else requiring medical attention was pretty much managed at home. I … Continue reading →

By Violet Suta Moran This essay is an excerpt from Violet’s latest book, Sweetgrass: Growing Up in Montana. One summer, my three sons and their families came to the mountains of Montana for a reunion with the Suta family.  After … Continue reading →

By Renee Lajcak Renee writes both for the page and for performance, adjusting her style for each. “For spoken word, I use shorter sentences, more repetition. On the page, you can be more abstract. For listeners, I keep it visual, … Continue reading →

By Faith Ellestad Ok, I’ll host the party, I guess, it is my turn I put it off for many years,Well, now I’ll feel the burn. Memories of gath’rings past come flooding back in wavesA spicy mix of relatives,Perhaps I’m … Continue reading →

By Loriann Knapton Today I made potato salad. I started with my grandmother’s recipe, passed down from one mother in the family to another. As the small red potatoes cook, I start to chop hard-boiled eggs, celery, and onion, and … Continue reading →

By Janet Manders My owner handed me over to her eight-year-old granddaughter. Actually, that’s not how it really happened. The kid grabbed me. Right out of the tight, protective grasp of the person who typically holds me. During that abrupt … Continue reading →