Ugly

Ugly

by Robert Hoge
Ugly

Ugly

by Robert Hoge

Hardcover

$16.99 
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Overview

A funny, moving, and true story of an ordinary boy with an extraordinary face that's perfect for fans of Wonder—now available in the U.S.
 
When Robert Hoge was born, he had a tumor the size of a tennis ball in the middle of his face and short, twisted legs. Surgeons removed the tumor and made him a new nose from one of his toes.  Amazingly, he survived—with a face that would never be the same. 
 
Strangers stared at him. Kids called him names, and adults could be cruel, too. Everybody seemed to agree that he was “ugly.” But Robert refused to let his face define him. He played pranks, got into trouble, had adventures with his big family, and finally found a sport that was perfect for him to play. And Robert came face to face with the biggest decision of his life, he followed his heart.

This poignant memoir about overcoming bullying and thriving with disabilities shows that what makes us “ugly” also makes us who we are. It features a reflective foil cover and black-and-white illustrations throughout.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780425287750
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Publication date: 09/06/2016
Pages: 208
Product dimensions: 5.60(w) x 8.30(h) x 1.00(d)
Lexile: 890L (what's this?)
Age Range: 8 - 12 Years

About the Author

About The Author
Robert Hoge has done pretty much every kind of writing there is. He has worked as a journalist, a speechwriter, a science writer, and a political adviser. He's also written numerous short stories, articles, and interviews that have been published in Australia and overseas. When he's not writing, Robert enjoys photography and talking with people about looking different and being disabled. He lives in Brisbane, Australia, and is maried and has two amazing daughters.

Visit him at RobertHoge.com and follow him @RobertHoge.

Read an Excerpt

I’m the ugliest person you’ve never met.

It wasn’t supposed to be that way. No one had any idea what was coming. My parents had four children before me, and I should have been born, plain and simple. On a Friday. But July 21, 1972, came—and almost went—without much to show for it.

As midnight neared, however, my mother, Mary Hoge, went into labor. My parents didn’t own a telephone, so Mom rushed next door and asked the neighbors to call my father, Vince, home from work. Dad raced back from his job at a factory that made food for chickens. They had no time to spare. It would take them about half an hour to reach the hospital from our suburban Brisbane home.

My father arrived, jumped out of the car into the dark night and ran upstairs. He packed my mother into the car as fast as he could, and they left for the hospital.

When Mom was admitted, her contractions that signaled the baby was coming were two minutes apart. Her baby should be there very soon. But at 2 a.m. on Saturday morning the contractions stopped dead. The doctors were worried and told my parents they might have to induce labor if the contractions didn’t restart. Mom was sent to the hospital ward to wait. At 5:30 a.m. on Sunday, July 23, her contractions resumed. It was a long, difficult labor for a fifth baby, and I was born at 12:35 p.m.

Back then, a mother’s usual first question would have been: “Is it a boy or a girl?” But something didn’t seem quite right, so my mother had a different question for the doctors.

“Is my baby okay?” she asked.

“No, Mrs. Hoge,” the doctor said, looking up in shock. “He is not okay. He has a lump on his head, and something wrong with his legs.”

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