We Interrupt This Blog To Bring You Some Earth-shattering News!

I, Laura Best, have mastered the art of folding a fitted sheet!

Yup, you read that right. Exciting times in the Best household.

Look a tad bit familiar?

Remembering a blog post a year or so ago, on Tricia Sutton’s blog, where many of us so called “intelligent” people openly admitted to not being able to fold the frigging things, let me tell you, today I feel like a freaking genius!

Didn’t see it on a TV show. Didn’t get any nifty pointers from Martha Steward.
Didn’t even look it up online. I figured it out all on my own. I looked at the freshly laundered sheet and just knew I could do it!

Want to know my secret?

Sure you do!

The last time cracked open a package of new sheets I unfolded them with care. I paid attention. I looked at the way they were so meticulously folded up into that little package and I thought to myself, “I can do that!” And you know what? I could. No more balled up fitted sheets for me.

That same feeling sometimes happens when I’m writing. A scene or chapter seems to evade me, something isn’t quite right. I’m not sure why, can’t quite put my finger on it. It could go on like that for some time until I feel like balling it up and tossing it in the corner, until in a sudden flash of sheer brilliance (okay, maybe not quite brilliance, but you get the picture) it comes to me.

I love those moments, usually when I’m in the middle of something totally unrelated when I’m presented with some wonderfully new epiphany about my main character, something I didn’t already know. It happened the other evening while we were driving home from town. A few sentences stuck in my mind. They were dark, and caught me totally off guard. I wasn’t expecting it. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t sure I liked it or even how it would fit into my MC’s present predicament. But there it was.

But then came the dawning of a new day, where I quickly worked with the sentences that had popped into my head the night before. Like that folded sheet, I knew exactly what to do with them. While it didn’t make me feel like a genius the way I felt when I saw that fitted sheet folded up so small and nice and sitting on the shelf, it did make me feel pretty darn good. Once I got down to work, everything else seemed to fall into place. Best of all it fit in perfectly with the rest of the story. Turns out it wasn’t nearly as dark as I originally thought, but that happens often when we write.

So, call me a genius if you want, but only if you struggle with those fitted sheets yourself, otherwise just call me totally and utterly ridiculous for this entire post.

Do you ever get those moments when, in a suddenly flash of brilliance, a new scene comes to you right out of the blue, something you weren’t expecting, something that left you feeling like a complete genius?


Leave a comment


  1. Melanie

     /  November 1, 2010

    Congratulations on the fitted sheet. I’ll have to get you to fold all mine next time you’re up. I hope you took of a photo!


  2. Only another fitted sheet folder would understand, and I understand! Bravo, Laura. Bravo! Isn’t the flash blinding! In a good way.


  3. I thought I figured it out a few weeks ago. I had this new plan in my mind for the fitted sheet. The first time I tried it, the sheet looked fairly neat. The next time I tried it, it didn’t work. I got so frustrated, I grabbed that sheet and scrunched it up in a ball and tossed it in the closet! Done. I am impressed with your sheet epiphany and your scene breakthrough, too. Blessings, Laura…


    • Carol Ann, I understand your frustration since I’ve been there. Keep trying, and one day I know you will proudly announce to the world that you have mastered the art of folding fitted sheets. You will hold your head high. 🙂


  4. Epiphanies are wonderful, aren’t they? 🙂 Whether it’s folding fitted sheets (I get my husband to hold the other end; we fold the side and end strips in, then keep folding, and it works well enough to suit me!) or brilliant plot revelations, I love those flashes of enlightenment.


  5. What the hell is it with those fitted sheets, anyways? Were they put here just to plague us?

    Are you going to give us step-by-step instructions, or what? 🙂


    • I’m with you, Holli. If only we could rid the world of those things there would be no need for epiphanies or flashes of genius when it comes to the frigging things. But alas, now that I have mastered it I feel quite smug! And who can blame me?


  6. syr ruus

     /  November 2, 2010

    I say GENIUS for sure.


  7. My sister showed me how to do it, but in the end, I really don’t care. So why do we have a picture of a crumpled sheet on your blog — and not your beautifully folded one? Just asking?

    I love the way you segue to writing, though. And it’s true — I find myself writing myself in a corner and wondering what I’m going toi do next. And soon enough, I can count on an epiphany.

    I don’t need my sister to show me that — and I do care!


    • Hi Hilary, I actually enjoyed looking at the before picture. Seemed a bit more interesting. I got the photo on line. It’s not mine BTW! And until I could fold it properly, I really didn’t care either, but now that I know how it is a whole different story… LOL!

      We writers do often have these epiphanies, and a good thing for that I say!


  8. For your next trick you should fold it into a swan shape, origami style;)

    Oh boy, I could use a flash of genius right now. I wanted to do NaNoWriMo this year but I’m really stuck for ideas. I might take a lead from you and go fold my laundry to see if it gives me some inspiration.


    • Dang it! I never would have thought of a swan. Thanks Helen, I now have a new challenge..

      Here’s hoping that laundry of yours brings the kind of inspiration you’re looking for. 😉


  9. I had done the exact same exercise of copying a brand new sheet layout. I even took the same sheet and used the creases as an outline. I failed even that and ended up wadding it. So either you’re a genius or I’m an idiot. Please don’t answer that. 🙂



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