There are stories here in Scutchalo. These aren't stories found anywhere near vaults and yellowed mountains of paper in dusty archives. Our anecdotes, sketches, yarns, tales, pranks, and tributes, by whatever name we invite them back, touch a common thread and involve people going about the very same twenty-four-hour day we all appreciate. These stories develop from, "I remember . . .," and hearing one tale invariably reminds of another, and "just this one more before we got to get on home," while more sweet tea brews, or the pickup is started and moved the few feet to take the tailgate back under shade. "The Suburbs of Scutchalo" brings together the humor of a place and captures the essence of a region both long forgotten and richly remembered through stories passed around and nourished by generations living in this tiny corner of Mississippi and its wind-blown placing between Vicksburg and Natchez and closeness to Jackson.

Tom Chapman grew up absorbing daily visits to country stores where old men flipped nickels to see who paid for the six-ounce bottles of Coke, back when we mistakenly thought six-ounces was big enough to satisfy. Everyone brought a story or was the story. We of the Deep South love our stories and enjoy laying them out like good forks and spoons. After years of hearing him share positive, upbeat memories, we prevailed on him to bring his thoughts to the page. We predict you'll soon be proud we did, and that he did. Tom lives in rural Claiborne County, Mississippi, on the south banks of the Bayou Pierre. He and his cattle look across the creek into the ancient wind-deposited loessal hills and hollows of a special, singular place called Scutchalo. He's already hard at work on the follow-up to The Suburbs of Scutchalo.