Stephen Cosgrove

The Snuffin Chronicles began like most if not all of my books begin … phonetic rythmn … it sounded good when I said it. From that microburst of creativity pours an avalanche of ideas. A house, a neighborhood, a village, and a map that holds everything together, an Imapination.

Follow as I guide myself through a mind maze of ideas:

The

Snuffin Chronicles

Background

Premise

There was a land called Nihility Hill. A land filled with little folk called Snuffin who did nothing more than than bake muffins and live their good lives. The Snuffin baked their muffins (the best muffins ever baked) in the Snuffin Muffin Factory, the mainstay industry in this imaginative land.

But, in order to bake their muffins they need one egg from the puffin and so-in lies the problem: The puffin lays her egg where ever she pleases; on the roof tops, under the bushes or in the trees and each day the Snuffin must find the egg or the puffins in order to bake their muffins.

From basic themes, like honesty – to complex themes like charity and understanding, the kindly Snuffins move all about Nihility Hill teaching children of all ages basic values of life by refection.

The Snuffin-folk of Nihility Hill

Muff Snuffin

The head baker at the Snuffin Muffin factory. Every step he takes seems to punctuated by a puff of dust. Muff’s a kindly man pressed with a desire to bake better muffins. This trait leads Muff to invent all sorts of odd contraptions to make the the muffin factory more productive but the machines do nothing more than wheeze and cough in peculiar ways.

Snooty Snuffin

The wife of Muff and the former owner of Nihility Hill’s only dance hall and fun emporium Snooty’s Rooty-Tooty Saloon. Snooty gave up her career as a dancer to harass and harangue Muff and their son Buff.

Piddle Snuffin

The proud owner of Piddle’s Plates and Pottery. Why Piddle is a potter is anyone’s guess because he is the proverbial bull in the china shop. What Piddle doesn’t break by dropping, he sits on. The one magical thing about, although, is his Nihility ability to make anything out of clay.

Duff Snuffin

Duff is the mayor of Nihility Hill because nobody else wants to be. His only claim to fame is his posterior which is grandiose to say the least and as-in-the-fact that this is his greatest asset, he protects it by sitting on it whenever he can.

Barter Snuffin

The owner of Barter’s Beans, Berries and Grits Nihility Hill’s only grocery. Barter trades for everything but someday he would just like to paid for his wares but money is rarely seen in Nihility Hill.

Snively Snuffin

The kindly but slightly reclusive librarian at the Remembery. Snively is very absent minded and wanders around town trying to figure out where she is or was or should be.

Snarly Snuffin

A lonely, old poacher who lives in the rambling Rankle Ruins. His hair is long and white and he walks with the aid of staff made from Gnarlwood. Most of the Snuffins are afraid of Snarly but don’t quite remember why, the secret is locked deep within the Remembery.

Noteworthy places to see

in the land of Nihility Hill:

The Snuffin Muffin Factory

Barter’s Beans, Berries and Grits

Snooty’s Rooty Tooty Saloon

Piddle’s Plates and Pottery

Snip’s Snappy Dresser

The Catchpenny Palace

The Remembery

Gim-crack crossing

Farble Forest

The Tinkle Trees of the Farbled Forest

The Sneeze Trees

The Cliffs of Grime

Moulten Mountain

The Slave caves (now deserted and abandoned)

The River Grudge

Meadows of Graze

The Sneering Desert

Lake Snazzy

Jam and Jelly Creek

The Farthing Forest

Tortured orchard

Olde rankle Ruins

Maudlin Meadows

Clumps of Snooze

Smugglers Bay

The Specific Ocean

The

Snuffin Chronicles

Snarly

sample text

Raindrops plopped

dripped and dropped

into streams

beyond your dreams

in a land called Nihility Hill.

The streams giggled and gurgled over pebbles and rocks. The streams slowed as they flowed into Jam and Jelly Creek, through the Farble Forest and there emptied gently into the River Why. Faster now, with purpose, the waters ran under Gim-Crack Crossing and wound through the hills and valleys of this land.

The river flowed through a tiny town, nestled in the woods, in this land called Nihility Hill. A charming little town with twisting, turning cobblestone streets that wound like taffy from shop to shop.

For, in this land of Nihility Hill, was where the Snuffin lived and played their lives away.

The Snuffins were delightful folk who were neither gnome nor troll, but rather a little bit of this and puff of that. They worked all day as all Snuffins do, as farmers and clerks, butchers and bakers. They worked all day to do one thing — eat muffins. They ate muffins for breakfast, muffins for lunch, and muffins for supper; not just any old muffins, but Snuffin Muffins from the Snuffin Muffin factory.

In the Factory, batter was glopped on a long leather belt in the mixing room and whirled and twirled over wheels and cogs by chains and ropes into a gigantic blackened oven in the center of it all.

There, when the clanging clock struck three times, not four, Muff and Snooty Snuffin, the head bakers, would pop them hot off the belt into wicker baskets. Later the baskets would be sold by Barter Snuffin in the only store in town, Barter’s Beans, Berries and Grits.

Now these Snuffin Muffins were better than any Snuffin had ever tasted. They were better not because of the batter, but because of one very special ingredient… the egg of an odd little bird called the puffin.

The puffin would fly all over Nihility Hill wherever, whenever and however she chose. But at sometime somewhere in the land the puffin would rest, and there she would lay her single, multicolored egg.

Every day at the crack of dawn, Muff and Snooty and some other Snuffin would search and search until they found the single puffin egg, sometimes in a tree, sometimes on a chimney.

The puffin never let the Snuffins down.

That was to say, until one day, when Muff and Snooty couldn’t find the egg. Look though they might, there was no puffin egg. Without the egg of the puffin there wouldn’t be any muffins, and the Snuffins would have nothing to eat at breakfast, lunch, or dinner!

All the Snuffins joined in the search for the Snuffin Muffin puffin egg. But it was not to be found, and neither was the puffin herself!

Frustrated and worried, they all rushed to the Catchpenny Palace to grumble and groan.

“What is a Snuffin without a muffin?” they grumbled.

“What is a Snuffin Muffin without a puffin egg?” they groaned.

“Now hold on,” shouted Mayor Duff Snuffin, pacing about as mayor’s do. “We know the egg is missing. We know the puffin is missing. But… are there any Snuffins missing? If there’s a missing Snuffin, he or she will have the puffin!”

They all looked around. There was Muff, Snooty, and their only child Buff. There was Piddle the potter, Snip the tailor and of course Duff the mayor. In the back of the room was Tush, the mayor’s assistant, Barter the merchant, and Bluff the lawyer. Even the farmer Snuffins, the Gruffins Ruff and Snail, were there. In the corner was Snively Snuffin the librarian from the remembery although she had forgotten why she was there.

All were there save one… the mysterious Snarly Snuffin.

“Snarly,” they cried together. “Snarly Snuffin is missing!”

“I’ll just bet you that Snarly Snuffin has the puffin!” shouted the mayor.

Now Snarly was a strange old Snuffin with long white hair that would wave in the wind as he limped along, leaning on his staff of twisted gnarlwood. He had been seen at times in the Farthing Forest and sometimes near the Tortured Orchard. No one really knew him and few ever talked to the odd old Snarly Snuffin.

At that precise moment some Snuffin near the back of the room shouted, “There he is now!”

Sure enough, through the window of the Catchpenny Palace the Snuffins could see old Snarly limping into Barter’s Beans Berries and Grits.

Everyone rushed down the stairs, across the cobbled street, and into Barter’s store. There, they peeked, whispered and spied on old Snarly as he hobbled about the aisles picking up a bit of this and a bit of that. All that he picked up he carried to the front and dropped with a clatter on the counter in front of Barter.

There was a pottery tea set made by Piddle the potter and a platter of polished pine. There was a fork, a knife, and a box of wooden matches.

“Good day,” said Barter just as sweet as could be but just a little nervously. “And how do we wish to pay for these goods today?”

“Not ‘we,’ but me. I’ll trade today, if you please,” snarled Snarly.

“And what would you like to trade?” asked Barter slyly.

“This!” grumbled the old Snuffin. With that he reached beneath his coat and fumbled a bit in the dusty cloth. You could have heard a pin drop in that store when he whipped out a bright and shiny multicolored egg… the egg of the puffin!

Now it was not uncommon for one or another of the Snuffins to trade the puffin’s egg for goods at Barter’s store, but not today, and definitely not Snarly. Barter looked at the mayor who winked as he nodded his head, and the trade was made.

Snarly put his goods into an old burlap bag and slipped out the door and down the street. Behind him, rushing from shadow to shadow, was Tush the mayor’s assistant. He followed the hobbling Snuffin far out of town, down the road, and through the tortured orchard.

On and on they went, old Snarly leading the way with Tush slipping and sliding from shadow to bush behind. They walked and walked until they came to the old cracked castle called the Rankle Ruins. There, amidst the piles of stones and crumbling walls, Tush lost sight of Snarly. He looked and looked, but nowhere could he find a sign of the old Snuffin or the missing puffin.

Tush, satisfied that Snarly was hiding somewhere nearby, rushed back to town to tell the others the news.

All the other Snuffins were waiting and wondering inside the Snuffin Muffin Factory when Tush rushed in.

“He’s hiding in the old Rankle Ruins. I followed him there,” Tush panted exhausted from his run.

“He has the puffin, I’m sure!” cried Snooty.

“I’ll just bet,” said Bluff the lawyer slyly, “that he plans to cook and eat the puffin. He bought a platter and he bought a knife and fork. Why he even bought a box of matches to start a fire to cook that poor old puffin.”

“Stop him, we must!” cried the mayor. “We need the puffin egg for the muffins. Without the eggs… no muffins. Without the muffins… no Snuffins. Gather torches and tools; we are off to the Rankle Ruins!”

When all was ready, they lit their torches, held them high, and began the march through town. Each Snuffin held a weapon of sorts. Muff and Snooty had giant wooden spoons. The Gruffins had pitchforks and rakes. All of the Snuffins were prepared to strike down Snarly and rescue the puffin. Even tiny Buff had a sand shovel and pail. Nothing would stop the Snuffins from saving the puffin.

On they marched through the Tortured Orchard until they came to the old Rankle Ruins. There, they searched and searched looking for a trace of Snarly or the puffin amidst the broken bricks and stones.

They were very nearly ready to give up when Piddle found a tunnel that led underground.

“Here it is!” he shouted.

Sure enough, there was a short tunnel leading to a heavy planked door set in stone.

“Quickly,” shouted the mayor, “Bash open the door before he cooks and eats the puffin!”

With an old wooden beam the Snuffins smashed on the heavy planked door until it splintered and crashed open.

Then all the Snuffins rushed inside to rescue the puffin from Snarly.

But there, instead of the dastardly deed they thought they would find, they found Snarly Snuffin serving tea to the puffin who sat in an overstuffed chair in front of the hearth and fire.

“Ahem,” said Mayor Duff as he nervously cleared his throat, “I, uh, that is we thought that, uh, that is we, uh,…”

“You ‘uh, thought’ what?” snarled Snarly. “You thought I was going to eat the puffin or something? You fools, the puffin is my only friend and I am hers. She came here to share some tea and sit and rest, away from all of you Snuffins.”

He looked around the room and continued, “All you want from the puffin is the egg. She never hears a ‘Thank you, Miss Puffin.’ Never a ‘How do you do, Miss Puffin?’ Only, ‘Just give me the egg, Puffin! We need it for our muffins!’ Well, what about friendship? What about love? Oh, rest assured you’ll get your egg every day, but the puffin will live here with me.”

And with that Snarly served the puffin some tea and a muffin as the shamed Snuffins slipped into the night.

From that day forward, on sunny or even rainy days, Snarly, hand-in-wing with his best friend the puffin, would walk to town to deliver the egg to the Snuffin Muffin Factory. All the Snuffins would stop whatever they were doing and wish them a very good day as…

Raindrops plopped

Dripped and dropped

Into streams

Beyond your

dreams…

…in a land called Nihility Hill.

The Earth Angels …. “Ruby & Sputters”

The Snuffin Chronicles and how they came to be

The Snuffin Chronicles

Back Again …

stephen@stephencosgrove.com

The Golden Egg