‘The Trouble with Gumballs’ shows sticky side of going into business

Reviewed by Susan K. Maciak

The Trouble with Gumballs by James Nelson is a tongue-in-cheek tale of two people struggling to start their own business. Once upon a time . . . a time when you could buy a palm full of peanuts for a penny and a cup of coffee for a dime, the native New Yorkers moved to California to escape the hustle and bustle of the city for the good life. In the quest for year-round sunshine, along with careers that required minimal work (or so they thought), Jim Nelson and his wife Mary-Armour bought a vending machine route in Sonoma County.

After investing a chunk of their savings in 100 glass globes, the pair managed gumball machines in rural establishments with storefront signs like Doodle Diner, Gobble Grocery Store and Rosie’s Restaurant. Their new venture turned out to be more challenging than profitable. For anyone who’s ever dreamed of going into business for themselves, TheTrouble with Gumballs becomes a reality check. Hardly anything transpired the way the Nelsons thought it would.

The family’s first roadblock was finding merchants willing to welcome their gum vending machines for 15 percent of each penny plugged into one. After they successfully located all their profit makers in mom-and-pop shops though, the eager entrepreneurs faced a daily diet of melting gumballs, jammed coin dispensers, and kids who figured out how to wiggle out large quantities of merchandise without putting a penny into their gumball enterprise.

Despite a series of do-it-yourself marketing efforts and seven-day-a-week work, the Nelsons noticed that their savings account depleted faster than their business grew. At the end of their wits, they decided to sell the business – for much less than they had paid for it. What they turned to next to earn a living, surprised them and will astonish readers. All in all, the story about gumballs leaves a good takeaway message and restores faith in American entrepreneurism.

Book Review: Ally Nutall’s “Spider Circus”

Reviewed by Sarah Melton

Spider Circus is a fast-paced YA fantasy/adventure novel, with more twists and turns than a Gordian knot. The main protagonist, Lizzie McCoy, is a headstrong and emotional teenage girl with yet-to-be-discovered talents. The first three chapters show a girl in the kind of turmoil that many teenagers can relate to – her parents have just recently divorced, and her relationship with both parents and her younger siblings are strained, at their best. Part of her seems to long for simpler times, when her parents were together, her emotions more in control, and the pressure to fit in less intense than it has been for her lately. And then there are those uncontrollable “dark clouds” of her temper, and that feeling of being trapped…that is, until a stranger hands Lizzie the flyer to a very special performance of the Spider Circus.

Before long, Lizzie is deep into the world of the Spider Circus – travelling not just far from her home, but from her world as well. She learns of a group of people called “Dimensionals”, who can travel from one dimensional plane to the next, world after world, and with it comes a truly infinite possibility for continuing adventures. This is the point where, at some points, the story seems to get almost too rushed – their encounters hitting quickly as they discover everything from selkies to scientists, dragons to hot air balloons, all while Lizzie learns the ins and outs of her new “wiredancer” job with the world-hopping circus, and even more daunting, honing her abilities as not just a dimensional traveler, but a “Spider” – one whose abilities are even stronger and more complex. Although perhaps it’s a fitting pace the story sets, as it puts the reader in the same overwhelmed and fascinated mind of the protagonist herself – no longer feeling the crush of being trapped, she is met with the almost more frightening reality of more space than she could ever hope to explore in her lifetime.

The real story in the novel, though, is within the circus folk themselves. The compelling dialogue is one of the strongest points of the story, as Lizzie learns some of the darker stories and secrets of her travelling companions, and deals with a relentless bully that seems (at first) to dislike her for no other reason than the color of her skin (for unlike a great deal of fantasy novels, this one features a heroine of color, dark-skinned, dreadlocked and all.) There is treachery, revenge, kindness, understanding, and towards the end, forgiveness and resolution for many of the characters involved. There also seems to be a bit of romance on the horizon for Lizzie, but nothing too steamy for the younger readers to be reading. Then of course, there is the “Big Bad” of the story, the sinister and shape-changing Shadows, who are hoping to use Lizzie, her talents, and her friends for a much darker purpose.

Spider Circus is the first of a four-part series, published via Smashwords, and this first installment was a great start to a very intriguing story. You can learn more about Alice Nuttall and her stories at: http://alicenuttallbooks.wordpress.com/. She is also the co-creator (with artist Emily Brady) of the fantasy web comic “Footloose” at www.footloosecomic.com. Spider Circus can be purchased (Kindle version) on Amazon, here: http://www.amazon.com/Spider-Circus-Shadows-Alice-Nuttall-ebook/dp/B00G6D5UG4

Some look at the cat and say that he is selfish, and proud,
Or that he is headstrong and difficult to direct;
No loyal friend or guardian, the feline! they insist;
Quite unwilling to “roll over” or “fetch,” this is true;
An amazing predator, but a poor companion, say others
of slightly more balanced judgement, who prefer
the obsequious flattery and slobbering obedience of the canine;
Others, including the author of this poem, see it differently.Meanwhile, the cat goes about her graceful motions,
heedless of their many opinions,
takes what she needs from them,
and is content

 

 

—

IN MEMORIAM

after Verlaine

This evening, I do not like the way the sun sets in gray ash on the horizon, or how the twilight leaves such a bitter taste, like tears mingled with a shiver. I do not like the smell of roses picked to be braided into crowns or gathered into garlands, nor the lingering scent of a violet born in the shadow of cypresses. Tomorrow on the green hill, there will be a new grave with a new name because death blew on a budding flower and a tempest broke a sapling. If your weight is light to those whose age has overwhelmed too many days and nights, I find you quite heavy, O inexorable earth, when you weigh thus.

A WHOLE BASKET FULL OF DEAD SNAKES

The Mistake won’t stop blogging about me, I say.

No one reads blogs, The Dark Lady says, adding,

No one reads poetry either. Why should you care?

I ignore the dig because she has a point,

But then again, so do I.

Why can’t she be more like you? I say.

Jesus. I wish we could just get divorced twice,

The Mistake can’t even get being an ex-wife

Right. Charming, The Dark Lady says.

Exactly, I say, though technically I’m not

Agreeing with her, charming in much the same way

That Marburg virus is charming.

Whatever, The Dark Lady says.

No, seriously, I say, forgetting about The Mistake,

Marburg is an awesome thing,

And now, since there’s no stopping me,

The Dark Lady takes a deep pull and snorts

Menthol smoke like a bored, middle-aged dragon

With giant fake breasts.

It’s a zoonotic filovirus related to Ebola,

Possibly vectored through Egyptian fruit bats—

These are cute little cat/rat/bird beasties,

I say, that work hard to pollinate the ageless Baobab,

Whose fruit wanders the continents of flavor

From vanilla to pear to grapefruit.

At this point, I give her the jazz hands,

And she takes another drag in resignation.

It’s a hemorrhagic fever that makes you vomit

And cry blood until all of your organs fail

And you die. The Soviets even tried to turn it

Into a weapon, but they didn’t do so well

And some dude croaked in the process.

Charming, The Dark Lady says. And I know

Exactly what she means.

LIBRARY

This forgotten bookshelf indicts the heads

Of failed lovers: how dare they give way when

So much consolation, so much inspired

Sweetness insists in stronger dependencies?

How these volumes ache with every unturned

Emptiness—just the stack behind the bed

Is full of mysteries, strange and burned

Letters sink into silence, dried and dead.

De-collated edges and flyspecks,

Mountains of words wilt from one century

To the next: beautiful faces, a vortex

Of sweet pilgrimages to some grassy

Tomb. Unfamiliarity is a gate

That keeps all would-be lovers from their fate.