Angst A-Go-Go

"I worry all the time. I worry that my words aren't good enough, too good, too weird. I worry that they'll market me as a teenage sensation, that no one will take me seriously, that teenagers won't understand me (I certainly as fuck don't understand them).'

Tongue most definitely in cheek, young author Zoe Trope proclaims herself a "literary teen goddess." The Portland high school student has channeled her boredom, frustration and general post-pubescent confusion into a bracingly sensitive articulation of teenage angst. Her memoir, Please Don't Kill The Freshman, has found itself a cult following among Northwest readers. The 44-page chapbook (staples in the binding and all) is reaching the bestseller list of venerable Portland institution Powell's Books (or "the temple," as she calls it) and other Northwest bookstores with independent tastes in its second printing. What began as a collection of late-night e-mails to her 8th grade creative writing teacher has led to a pinch-me-I'm-dreaming success for the 16-year-old.

That teacher was Kevin Sampsell, founder and publisher of the very independent Future Tense Books. Ms. Trope uncovered his double life, and the self-described "anti-teacher" found himself acting as mentor to the perceptive student and her wild, funny observations. "He really inspired me to find my own voice and scream and kick and yell as much as I wanted to."

With a voice that's more Clowes than Caulfield, and an inventive, urgent style of wordplay that speaks volumes toward the bottomless boredom of classroom life, an expanded version of her book will appear in hardcover from Harper Collins, most likely hitting the shelves well before her graduation in spring 2004.

"The expanded version will have the original PDKTF, as well as material from the summer after my freshman year and my sophomore year. It includes even more geek love, lesbian debauchery, gay best friends (and) general high school frustration."

The candid, sometimes racy memoir has met with more than a little opposition from the unfortunate administration at which the brunt of Trope's acid humor is aimed. Armed with fictional names for herself and the rest of her real-life companions for protection -- from her beloved "Linux Shoe" to the Beck-wannabe English teacher "with pedophilic tendencies" named "Fishsticks" -- she's nonetheless received some rather blustery, impotent threats from an embarrassed vice principal.

"I'm not allowed to mention my book at school. The school wants nothing to do with it, and that's fine, because I don't think my book should have anything to do with the school. My administration hates me, more or less. The feeling is mutual." There's been no love lost. As she puts it in her first entry: "This isn't an education. This is daycare."

But the edges are nowhere near as rough as she makes them out to be. It's her sweet streak that makes the work enduring, untainted by the nostalgia or cynicism so common in the writing of that group of "angry 20-somethings" she's desperately trying to avoid becoming part of. Disjointed, a little forced, but sincere and honest, Please Don't Kill The Freshman promises great things to come but assuredly stands on its own. For the moment, Ms. Trope is a little too busy to worry about such lofty, unimportant things as her literary career.

"I don't have enough time or energy to sit around and obsess about how well I'm selling or what my agents are doing with the movie rights or any of that. I have papers to write, friends to call, an instrument to practice, homework to turn in."

She really is 16, isn't she? That might be the key to Freshman's success. This isn't the voice of a 30-year-old trapped in the body of an adolescent. Though wise beyond her years, Ms. Trope is thoroughly part of the microcosm she depicts. She's gifted with perspective and urbanity and intelligence, but is firmly rooted in her high school society. From that complex love/hate symbiosis comes the driving conflict of the book that puts her well ahead of the phonies.

Quotes compiled from electronic conversations with Ms. Trope