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Summary
Summary
The sequel to Joey Pigza Swallowed the Key, a National Book Award Finalist
When Joey Pigza meets his dad for the first time in years, he meets a grown-up version of his old out-of-control self. Carter Pigza is as wired as Joey used to be -- before his stint in special ed, and before he got his new meds.
Joey's mom reluctantly agrees that he can stay with his dad for a summer visit, which sends Joey racing with sky-high hopes that he and Carter can finally get to know each other. But as the weeks whirl by, Carter has bigger plans in mind. He decides that just as he has pulled himself up by his own bootstraps, Joey can do the same and become as normal as any kid, without the help of a doctor's prescription. Carter believes Joey can do it and Joey wants to believe him more than anything in the world.
Here is the continuation of Jack Gantos' acclaimed Joey Pigza story, affirming not only that Joey Pigza is a true original but that it runs in the family. This title has Common Core connections.
Joey Pigza Loses Control is a 2000 New York Times Book Review Notable Children's Book of the Year and a 2001 Newbery Honor Book.
Author Notes
Jack Gantos was born in Mount Pleasant, Pennsylvania on July 2, 1951. He received a BFA and a MA from Emerson College. While in college, he and an illustrator friend, Nicole Rubel, began working on picture books. After a series of rejections, they published their first book, Rotten Ralph, in 1976. His other books include Joey Pigza Swallowed the Key, a National Book Award Finalist, Joey Pigza Loses Control, a Newbery Honor book, and Dead End in Norvelt, which won the 2012 Newbery Medal. His memoir, Hole in My Life, won the Michael L. Printz and Robert F. Sibert Honors. Jack's follow-up to Hole in My Life is The Trouble in Me He also teaches courses in children's book writing and children's literature. He dev.eloped the master's degree program in children's book writing at Emerson College and the Vermont College M.F.A. program for children's book writers.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (5)
Publisher's Weekly Review
First introduced in Joey Pigza Swallowed the Key, Gantos's hyperactive hero Joey Pigza has not lost any of his liveliness, but after undergoing therapy and a stint in special ed., he now can exercise a reasonable amount of self-controlDprovided he takes his meds. His mother has reluctantly agreed to let him spend the summer three hours from home with his father, an alcoholic who, so he claims, has taken steps to turn his life around. Readers will sight trouble ahead long before Joey's optimistic perception of his father grows blurry. Mr. Pigza is at least as "wired" as the old Joey, and when he resorts to his drinking habits and becomes belligerent, Joey (who still wants to win his father's favor) feels scared. Then Mr. Pigza, telling Joey his medicine patches are a "crutch" that Joey doesn't need, summarily flushes them down the toilet: "You are liberated... You are your own man, in control of your own life," he announces. Joey is torn between wanting to call his mom immediately and sticking with his father. "Even though I knew he was wrong," Joey says, "he was my dad, and I wanted him to be right." Like its predecessor, this high-voltage, honest novel mixes humor, pain, fear and courage with deceptive ease. Struggling to please everyone even as he sees himself hurtling toward disaster, Joey emerges as a sympathetic hero, and his heart of gold never loses its shine. Ages 10-up. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Horn Book Review
(Intermediate) Joey Pigza, the ""wired"" narrator of Joey Pigza Swallowed the Key (rev. 11/98), starts off this book on a more even keel, thanks to the effects of his ""good meds"" for attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder. And Joey needs all the help he can get because he's spending the summer with his father, whom he's never met and who, his mother warns him, is ""wired like you, only he's bigger."" The overall tone of this novel is more reflective and less manic than the first, because Joey himself isn't as hyper. But his father is, and now Joey finds himself on the receiving end of-and ill-prepared to cope with-his self-destructive and alcoholic parent. Joey's expectations of his father (that he'll ""love me as much as I already love him"") pale in comparison to his father's unrealistic expectations of his son, but Joey's so desperate for his father's love and attention that he keeps his disappointment to himself. As the star pitcher on the baseball team his dad coaches (for his court-ordered community service), Joey feels intense pressure to be the ""winner"" his father wants. And when Dad decides that Joey is a ""normal"" kid who doesn't need to be on medication, Joey reluctantly agrees to keep the meds-free trial (along with a lot of other things) a secret from his mom. But he knows it's just a matter of time before the old, wired Joey takes over. As in the first book, the tension and sadness of the story are tempered by Joey's often humorous, sometimes hilarious, narrative. Though he is troubled, Joey's father isn't all bad, and Gantos portrays him as an intriguing, complex, and deeply flawed character. Readers will be drawn into Joey's drama by his ability to feel compassion as he struggles to maintain balance in an out-of-control world. k.f. (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. All rights reserved.
Booklist Review
Gr. 4^-7. Joey's life has improved since Joey Pigza Swallowed the Key (1998); patches containing his "good meds" control his hyperactivity, and though he would never be mistaken for a calm child (well illustrated by the incident when he accidentally pierces his dog's ear with a dart), he is usually able to stop and think before he gets into trouble. Joey isn't crazy about spending time with the father he has never met, but he hopes that his Dad "will love me." Carter Pigza is "wired" just like Joey, but the patch he wears is for nicotine, and he regularly peels it off to smoke. He likes to think deep thoughts while gazing at the Humpty Dumpty at the miniature golf course late at night, and he comes to the conclusion that both he and Joey need to do the manly thing and get rid of their patches. Joey remembers all too well how he felt before he got his medicine, but he tries hard to make his dad proud. In tremendously poignant scenes, he struggles valiantly to do what his mother has told him: think just one thought at a time. But as his medicine wears off, he gradually loses control. Gantos has given Joey a remarkably vivid personality, and, blending irrepressible humor with a powerful depiction of a child's longing for normalcy, he has written a dead-on portrayal of a young person assessing the often self-serving behavior of the adults who control his life. Few children these days don't know someone wrestling with ADHD; meeting up with Joey is a fine way to gain insight into the problems "hyper" children face. But the story is more than message. Ganto's skillful pacing, sly humor, and in-depth characterization make it a truly memorable read. --Susan Dove Lempke
School Library Journal Review
Gr 4-8-At the end of Joey Pigza Swallowed the Key (Farrar, 1998), this endearing, but incredibly challenging kid was adjusting to his new medicine patches for his ADHD. Now he is flung from the frying pan into the fire when he visits his father and grandmother for the summer. Both adults suffer from hyperactivity, which is further aggravated by their distorted senses of reality; his grandmother's deteriorating health and his father's drinking provide a perfect recipe for disaster. Joey's dad is an initially appealing mixture of high spirits, unpredictability, and good times. He instructs the boy on the essence of life through his interpretations of the characters at Storybook Land and the strategies he applies as a Little League coach. When Carter realizes his son's potential as a pitcher, though, not even his sensible girlfriend can control him. Deciding that Joey should be self-reliant, he flushes the patches down the toilet and turns him loose in downtown Pittsburgh for a day. As his father's behavior slides, Joey finds himself in the driver's seat of the car, as well as of his self-determination. Readers will be drawn in immediately to the boy's gripping first-person narrative and be pulled pell-mell through episodes that are at once hilarious, harrowing, and ultimately heartening as Joey grows to understand himself and the people around him. The ride home isn't smooth, but it is hopeful and loving. Does this mean that he is on the way to a happy, "normal" life? As Joey himself would say, "Can I get back to you on that?"-Starr LaTronica, Four County Library System, Vestal, NY (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
As if Joey didn't get into enough trouble in his unforgettable debut, Joey Pigza Swallowed the Key (1998), Gantos has him wig out again in this sad, scary, blackly funny sequel. His hyperactivity under control thanks to new meds, Joey is looking forward to a six-week stay with his father Carter, hoping for some bonding. Unfortunately, his mother's warning: ". . . he can be, you know, wired like you, only he's bigger." understates the case. As a father, not to say a human being, Carter turns out to be appallingly dysfunctional: irresponsible, utterly self-centered, domineering, callous, and ominously short-fused. Smart enough to see through his father's loud assertions that he's turned over a new leaf, Joey nonetheless struggles to please, even when Carter flushes Joey's medication down the toilet, insisting that real men only need willpower to solve their personal problems. Joey tries to tough it out, hoping (despite bitter experience) that this time he won't go spinning off. Swept along by Joey's breathless narrative, readers will share his horrified fascination as, bit by bit, he watches the bad old habits and behavior come back. Joey's emphysemic Grandma, alternating drags on a cigarette with whiffs of oxygen as she trundles about the neighborhood in a shopping cart, and his Chihuahua Pablo, who survives both being locked in a glove compartment and having his ear pierced by a dart, provide the closest thing to comic relief here. The situation takes a dangerous turn when Joey eggs Carter into a wild rage; fortunately, his mother is just a phone call away, waiting in the wings to bail him out. Carter is truly frightening, a vision of what Joey could grow up to be, did he not possess the inner honesty to acknowledge his limitations (eventually), and caring adults to help him. A tragic tale in many ways, but a triumph too. (Fiction. 11-13) Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Excerpts
Excerpts
1 POTHOLES We were on our way to Dad's house and Mom was driving with both hands clamped tightly around the wheel as if she had me by the neck. I had been snapping my seat belt on and off and driving her nuts by asking a hundred what if' s about Dad. She'd been hearing them for two weeks already and wasn't answering. But that didn't stop me. What if he's not nice? What if he hates me? What if he's as crazy as you always said he was? What if he drinks and gets nasty? What if I don't like him? What if Grandma tries to put me in the refrigerator again? What if they make Pablo sleep outside? What if they don't eat pizza? What if I want to come home quick, can I hire a helicopter? "Yes," she said to my last question, not really listening. She was taking the long roller-coaster way to Pittsburgh, which was up and down about a million mountain backroads, because she was afraid of driving too fast on the turnpike. As she said before we loaded up the borrowed car, "My license is slightly expired and I don't have insurance, so just bear with me." "How can something be slightly expired?" I asked. "Is that the same as day-old bread? What if we get stopped by the police? What if we are arrested? What if the jails for boys and dogs look like giant birdcages?" She didn't answer me then, and she wasn't answering my questions now, even though I kept asking. All she did was tighten her grip and lean forward so much her chin was touching the top of the steering wheel. After a while her silence beat my talking like paper covers rock, so I kept my mouth shut even though the list of questions kept sprouting in my brain. But then Pablo, my Chihuahua, started yapping nonstop. Maybe it was his neck she was thinking of squeezing because he was driving her nuts too. The roads were beat up and I asked her not to hit the holes because Pablo has a weak stomach and gets carsick easily, but she didn't even try to steer around the bumps and holes. Her elbows were shaking and her jaw was so tight her front teeth were denting her lower lip. I knew she was stressed-out with the thought of seeing Dad, but right now I was more concerned about Pablo. "Go around the holes!" I kept shouting as I rubbed Pablo's swollen belly with the very tippity tips of my fingertips. He was lying on his back with his four feet up in the air like he was already dead, except his eyes were twitching. "When you're driving you can't exactly zigzag down the road!" she hollered back. "We could lose control and flip over." "Well, Pablo's stomach is about to flip," I said, warning her. "Then hold your hand over his snout," she suggested, and squeezed the steering wheel a little tighter as the car stumbled along. "Then he'll get carsick through his ears," I replied. "Or worse, it will back up and shoot out his you-know-where." She glanced over at me and glared. "You better keep his you-know-where aimed out the window," she ordered. "I don't want any nasty accidents." Just then we hit a deep hole and I lifted up off my seat. I saw another one coming and I took my hand from Pablo's fizzing snout and reached for the steering wheel and Mom slapped my hand away just as the tire hit the hole hard and I bounced sideways and cracked my head on the half-open window and Pablo flipped over onto his hind legs like he was doing a wheelie then opened his mouth and did what I said he'd do all over the front of the radio. "Oh, sugar!" Mom spit out. "Sugar, sugar, sugar!" I knew that word meant trouble. The last time she said "sugar" like that was when she got the letter from Dad's lawyer in the mail and I knew it wasn't because she had something sweet in her mouth. "Open the glove box," Mom said. "There might be some napkins in there." I pressed the lock and the little door dropped down and smacked Pablo on his bandaged ear, which must have hurt. There was a box of tissues inside so I pulled that out and because I didn't know what to do with Pablo I tucked him into the glove box and snapped the door shut. He started yapping again and I pressed my lips to the thin seam around the door and whispered, "Go to sleep. I'll wake you when we get there." He whimpered for a moment, then settled down. I tugged out a wad of tissues and began to clean the mess out from between all the little knobs and buttons on the radio, which was hard to do because the car was jerking around in all directions, so I quit. I let Mom settle down for a mile or two while I chewed on my fingernails before she caught me and pulled my hand from my mouth and held it tight. "Do you want me to drive?" I asked. "I guess you may have noticed I'm a nervous wreck?" she started. "Well, I just can't get my mind off your dad." That's one thing I liked about him already. Her mind was on him, him, him . Usually it was on me , me, me , and I couldn't do or say anything that she didn't notice, but now I was hiding inside his shadow like a drop inside an ocean, and he got to take the blame for her bad nerves. "You know I have mixed feelings about letting you do this," she said. She was starting to get weepy so it was my turn to settle her down. "What if he's nice?" I guessed. "He better be nice," she replied. "I mean really nice?" I said. "Like when you first met him." "He wasn't even nice then. He was just okay." "Well, did you kiss him on the lips?" "What do you think?" she said. Just the thought of her kissing Dad made me silly and I began to sing, "Mom and Dad sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g." "Stop that!" she snapped. "You're buggin' me again." I took a breather then started up again. "Have I done something wrong?" I asked. "No," she replied. "I just have a case of bad nerves." "Then, why are you sending me to Dad if you don't think he's any good?" "I'm not sending you because I like him," she replied. "I'm sending you because you might like him and because I think--not with my heart--that it is a good thing for you to have a relationship with your father. And now that he claims to have stopped drinking and has a job and has gone to court to get some visitation, I'm sending you to him because I think it's the right thing to do. But don't ask me how I feel about all this." "How do you feeeeel? " I asked, and leaned forward and pressed my smiley face into her shoulder. "Don't go there," she said. "I really don't want to feel anything about all this." "Mom and Dad, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!" I sang again with my head bouncing as if my neck was a big spring. "Now, Joey," Mom said, lifting one hand off the steering wheel and pushing me back to my side. "Get serious. Don't cling to the notion that me and him are going to get back together. No way is that going to happen, so just let it go and focus on your relationship with your father. You have six weeks with him. Figure out what you want from this guy before you get there. Give it some thought because he can be, you know, wired like you, only he's bigger." Even as she talked I didn't listen because I liked what I was thinking more than what she was telling me so I just hummed, "Mom and Dad, sitting in a tree ..." After that she re-gripped the steering wheel and seemed to aim for the holes. Some quiet time passed and since she didn't pay any attention to me I said, "Are you sending me because of my trouble with Pablo?" "That's only part of it," she said. "But that last little business was a wake-up call for me--and for Pablo. I mean, I can't keep you locked up in the house all summer." The little business she referred to made me hang my head, because it was all my fault, and like most everything wrong I did, she felt responsible so I just slumped into the corner of my seat. I put my tiny tape-player speakers in my ears and turned on the music. Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass were playing "Lollipops and Roses" and while I nodded along I added up the good and bad things about my behavior that day, which is what my special-ed teacher told me to do when I felt sad. Before I had gone to special ed and got my new meds it would have been impossible for me to sit still and make a list of good and bad things. I didn't have time for lists. I didn't have time for anything that lasted longer than the snap of my fingers. But after I got my good meds, which were in a patch I stuck on my body every day, I started to settle down and think. And not just think about all the bad things that had already happened. I started thinking about the good things I wanted to happen. And the best part about thinking good things was that now I could make them come true instead of having everything I wanted blow up in my face. So, as I sat in the car and took a deep breath, I asked myself what I wanted from Dad. Even though I thought for a long time, my list was short. There was really only one thing I wanted. So after a while I sat up and told Mom. "I just want him to love me as much as I already love him," I said. She listened, then pursed her lips before saying, "Honey, I'm sure he does." Her voice sounded like she had a long list of other things to say, but didn't. Copyright © 2002 by Jack Gantos Excerpted from Joey Pigza Loses Control by Jack Gantos All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
