Character Development: Week 1

Alright, so here’s the first installment of my month-ish of character development.  It’s time to start getting to know Amilee Leroux.  I’ve had a particular plot line rolling around in my head for probably around two years now.  She’s going to be my main character, I think, if she ends up being what I need the main character for that plot to be.

The way this segment is going to go is thusly: I’m going to have a list of questions I answer about Millie, then I’m gonna do a little blurb of a story for her.  Somewhere between 100-500 words.  Just a peek into a day in the life type of thing.  So, here we go!

Also, as a quick little aside,  the list of questions I’m currently working off of, I found here.

The Questions

Full name of Character: Amilee Leroux
Reason, meaning or purpose behind the name: Mom wanted “Amy” after her childhood friend, Dad wanted “Leigh” as a feminine version of his grandfather’s name.
Nickname: Millie
Reason for nickname: Amilee started using this as a nickname to appease both her parents by not having to go by “Ami” or “Lee”
Race: Mostly Caucasian, a bit of hispanic on her mother’s side.
Occupation/class: Part-time student, full-time receptionist at a doctor’s office.
Social class: Lower-middle class

Physical Appearance:

Age: 23
How old they appear: Late twenties
Eye Color: Honey golden brown
Glasses or contacts?  Glasses – black cat-eye frames.
Hair color length and style: Dark brown, like stained wood.  Falls a few inches past her shoulders, often wears it down with soft curls and a headband.
Weight and height: 183 lbs, 5’7”
Type of body (build): All her extra weight is fat, carried around her waist, hips, and thighs.
Skin tone and type (i.e., harry, slimy, scaly, oily, fair, burns easily): Usually a bit darker, as she likes to keep a tan even in the winter.  Often suffers from acne breakouts on her forehead.
Shape of face: heart-shaped.
Distinguishing marks (dimples, moles, scars, birthmarks, etc.): Beauty mark on left side of upper lip, palm-sized birthmark vaguely shaped like a hot-air balloon on her right hip.
Predominant feature: She has incredibly full lips.
Is s/he healthy? She tries to be, but really enjoys baking and eating desserts.
If not, why not? Or why are they healthy? She’s been trying to diet on and off for years, and can never seem to stick to an exercise plan.
Do they look healthy? Why/why not? She looks more or less healthy, if overweight.


Char’s favorite color: Dark, rustic orange.
Least favorite, why? Anything neon.  It’s too garish and unnecessarily bold.
Music? Favorite band is Frightened Rabbit.  Very into some combination of indie, folk, and/or pop.
Least favorite music, why? Modern country.  It seems very repetitive to her.  Same with mainstream pop and hip-hop.
Food: Chocolate covered strawberries.
Literature: Typically enjoys foreign authors of literary fiction.
Expressions: “I know, right?”
Expletives (curse): FUCK.
Mode of transport: Would really like a driver, but she doesn’t really mind pub trans as long as no one tries to hit on her.
Hobbies: Crochet, embroidery, reading.
How do they spend a rainy day? On the couch next to the window, with a cup of hot chocolate and a book or her latest craft project.

The Story

The alarm clock startled her awake.  With a groan, Amilee rolled over, blindly reaching for the monstrous device to shut up the incessant crowing.  The noise finally ceased, she blinked the sleep from her eyes, now reaching for her glasses.  She settled the frames on her face, adjusting them as she glanced at the time.  6:05 AM.  She then glanced at the book next to the alarm clock.

“I suppose I have time for a chapter or two before I really need to get ready.” She told herself, reaching for the book.  She settled back into her bed, pillows propped up against the headboard and gently opened the book.  She’d just bought it the other day and didn’t want to crack the spine.  Tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, she lost herself in the words on the crisp white pages.

The alarm blared again, seemingly out of nowhere.  Amilee jumped, a hand clutching at her chest.

“Oh, good god!” Millie scolded the machine, scowling.  Then she noticed the time displayed.  7:32 AM.  “Oh, good god!” She repeated, marking her place in the book, then tossing it aside and leaping out of bed.  She was going to be late if she didn’t hurry.


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