Jason Vuic, author of The Yugo: The Rise and Fall of the Worst Car in History, wants to hear from everyone who has a Yugo story to tell. Whether you owned one, drove one, sat in one, passed one, or crossed paths with one, if a Yugo made a lasting impression on you, tell us about it. Love it? Tell us why. Hate the Yugo? Give us the cause.

Because no history of the Yugo, that memorable import from Yugoslavia, could be fully complete without hearing from all of you who actually ran into one (figuratively, we hope), we want you to share your story with us.

Jason Vuic will select his ten favorite stories, and Hill and Wang will include them in an updated ebook edition. The winners will also receive a signed hardcover copy of The Yugo.

Stories should be limited to 1,000 words, submitted by March 31st, 2010.

Read an Excerpt from The Yugo     |    Submit Your Story

Share: : : : : : : : :

Jason Vuic's Story: 

"My own favorite Yugo story comes from the '80s. The car had just come out and my father and I drove to Tampa to check it out. We didn't usually go to Tampa. My hometown was maybe a hundred miles south, but since my father was the son of Serbian immigrants, and definitely a Yugophile, we absolutely had to check it out. It took us a while, but we finally located one on the showroom floor of a Pontiac dealership. It was gold, if I remember, but even at age thirteen it took me a nanosecond to realize that this thing was piece of junk. It was just . . . thin. The car's metal body, the car's hood and doors and fenders were just thin. But to be fair, I should mention that right next to the Yugo was a hot red Pontiac Fiero, which also was a piece of junk, but to me it was like Kitt from NBC's "Knight Rider," only even cooler. I remember thinking to myself, "Why doesn't Dad ever buy cars like this one?" I'm soooo glad he didn't. If he had, I probably would have driven off to college in that Fiero, and never ever gotten a date.

And from Marion Duvert, Our Foreign Rights Manager:

"I never considered the Yugo a piece of junk until I moved to the US and heard fateful stories about it. In the French countryside where I grew up, I was driven around in an appropriately bright red Yugo for many years; the good little car seemed invincible until fowl caused its near demise.

My older sister, who was a punk, had claimed ownership of the family vehicle. For a reason that still escapes me, she one day took a long drive with several chickens and a rooster in cages stacked up on the backseat. The road was bumpy, the cages rusty, my sister a reckless driver. The door to the rooster’s cage unfastened and the bird went flying in the car. In a panic of feathers and cackling, my sister sped on while fighting off the demented bird, and finally drove the car into a muddy field where it nearly toppled over, to her and the chicken’s great distress. She stepped out, sinking into the mud; the rooster followed her and ran for its life. It never appeared again. The car was hauled by a tractor, and served a few more months of brave service. When it died, we blamed it on the brainless fowl."

Terms: By submitting a comment,  you are agreeing to the Terms of Use and Privacy Notice for this Site. Without  limiting the foregoing, you agree that your comment (and/or any abbreviated or  summarized version) may be incorporated into the text of any future editions of The Yugo: The Rise and Fall of the Worst Car in History by Jason Vuic (the "Author"), in any and all media, and irrevocably grant the Author, his publisher (Farrar, Straus and Giroux), and their licensees all necessary  rights in connection therewith.