Synopsis:
An innocent game takes a turn for the worse when 7-year-old Greta pulls a bedsheet over her head and ends up becoming a real ghost. What follows is an exhilarating journey into a world of fantasy and wonder.
Review:
Ian Rogers’ “Fitted Sheet,” is a wistful, whimsical, perhaps even cute story, with a gentle moral about sibling rivalry tucked snugly inside. It meditates on familial friction and how often a little perspective is required, whether that simply be the realisation that your little brother isn’t actually that terrible anymore, or indeed nearly losing your sister to a haunted bedsheet. Read it yourself, revel in the writing, and of course, appreciate the reference to John Wyndham, before passing on the sentiment to your kids- especially if they’re at each other’s throats.
“Fitted Sheet,” was a first, and long-overdue foray into Rogers’ work, and I’m sure now that it won’t be my last. Huge thanks to Mitch at Rapture Publishing, who is building a mighty reputation by continuing to prove that good things really do come in small, saddle-stitched packages. If you’re looking for great writing and great illustrations (perhaps maybe even by the multi-talented Chris Panatier) all quite literally sewn together in one super-great chapbook, do yourself a favour and order one, or five from Rapture here. And if you’re after ghosts, grudges, and something that might just leave you feeling a little sentimental, “Fitted Sheet,” is the one to start with.
I can’t say too much plot-wise, there’d be nothing left, but the basic premise is as follows. Cecelia and Greta are sisters, 10 and 7 respectively, left to their own devices for 20 minutes whilst their mother hangs the laundry to dry. What could go wrong right? After the requisite sibling squabble, the two settle on playing ghosts, and Greta finds herself with her mother’s maybe Egyptian Cotton, maybe silk fitted sheet draped over her head. She can see just fine out of the fabric, but her older sister has no such luck, and being as self-centred and bratty as 10 year olds generally are, Cecelia tries to pull it off of her, ending the game. But she can’t… and Greta is unable to free herself.
That sounds claustrophobic and terrifying, and in another author’s hands I’m sure it could have veered that way, but it’s not, and it never tries to be. In the absence of malevolent spirits or Satan himself, Rogers reminds us that horror can be as simple as a fitted sheet, a sulk and a momentary lapse in adult supervision. It’s refreshing, breezy, and demonstrates both playfulness and restraint. It’s a small story, perfectly hemmed, neatly tucked, and pressed with care, and it was nothing but a pleasure to read.
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