From Innocent Words Magazine:

It's the summer of 1977 and Aimee Cooper is being stood up outside the New York City Museum of Natural History. Budding punk rock feminist that she is, she swallows her tears and heads downtown to the nearest punk show. Wandering around Greenwich Village she finds a handmade sign for the Village Gate. Inside, she finds Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers and her destiny.

Like any soul on the path to enlightenment, Cooper is presented with a series of signs. Back at college in California, she stumbles upon a copy of Slash magazine at a record store. Slash becomes her guide to the L.A. punk scene and, ultimately to the next chapter of her life. The story of how Cooper lands a gig at the indie magazine/record label reads like a punk rock Mary Tyler Moore episode with Husker Du singing "You're gonna make it after all."

The photo on the back cover tells you everything you need to know about Aimee Cooper and her unique perspective on the L.A. punk scene. She's got one foot inside a combat boot covered with chains and the other, small and delicate, covered in a pastel daisy sock. Slam dancing punk on the outside; sweet, sunny girl on the inside. Despite varied attempts to inspire a punk tag (she finally comes up with Amoeba) everyone still calls her Aimee. "When people describe punk rock, words like anger, belligerence, and rage are often used... But no one could have applied those to me..." She was, in her own words, "one happy punk rocker!" And it is this sense of giddy joy which sets this memoir apart. If you're gonna go for a vicarious walk on the wild side, this is the girl you want to take you there. Punk can be political and dead serious. But we are reminded that punk is also a wild skateboard ride, a sweaty, pulsing communal dance. In other words: a rush.

As the title suggests, this is the story of a play-by-the-rules girl who never fits in till she find the Tao of Punk and learns how to color outside the lines. Cooper's favorite book is The Outsiders, a story of a gang of misfits told by a then 16 year old girl. And Coloring Outside the Lines is in many ways Cooper's The Outsiders. When Cooper meets up with The Connected, a transient group of teens who function as an extended family, it is if she has met her soul mates. Cooper's recounting of her days with the TC present a surprising twist in the typical punk rock terrain. Tucked inside the memories of X and The Germs are glimpses of teen drama the likes of which the WB can't begin to touch.

Trendspotters are buzzing away these days about how the punk aesthetic is "back." But the punk they see on the runways and at the photo shoots shares nothing more than fabrics and Manic Panic hair dyes with the world Cooper depicts. In a topsy-turvy world where corporate marketing strategists are the ones screaming "Nothing is Sacred" as they co-opt punk rock iconography, it does this old punk's heart good to know that Aimee Cooper, proto-riot-grrl and DIY writer/publisher, is out there reminding us what it's all about: the music and the people.

The L.A. punk scene of Cooper's day ultimately imploded, cracking from a combination of internal and external pressure (e.g., drugs, violence perpetrated at and by punkers). And while Cooper signs off with a "I'm glad I got out when I did, but I wouldn't have missed it for the world", I wanted to hear her thoughts about the current state of the live music scene. But perhaps that's not the book Cooper intended to write. Besides, you can't read this book and not feel the power of live music. These were the days when punk music was largely ephemeral. It was about the gigs, not the recordings. It was about what happened in the pit. Did the cops come out in full riot gear? Did Darby Crash roll around the stage in broken glass? The beauty of this memoir is that it locks you inside the moment. And what a moment it was.

– Debra Domal