One day my friend Amanda and I put on matching white oversize t-shirts and leggings, flipped our hair into high side ponytails, pulled on pastel cardigans (hers was pink, mine blue), and went for a jaunt around campus. We decided that as twins our names should be Betsy and Wetsy. She would be Betsy, the smart but slightly depressed and jaded nine year old. I would be Wetsy, the charmingly addle-pated bed-wetter.
We decided we would have a children's book series in which Betsy and Wetsy went to places like the beach, the library, and the general store, but nothing much would ever happen except for Wetsy getting over-excited and wetting herself. We figured the books would become a cult classic for teenagers who liked the realism of the books, the avante-gardism of their plotlessness. The teenagers would also probably speculate about the extent of Betsy's depression, and her possible suicidal/devil-worshipping tendencies. If there's one thing Betsy and I love, it's Seitan...
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