Sometimes characters are born out of the act of writing a story. Their life is revealed in the telling of a particular tale. Other times it’s the character that comes first and the story develops around them. As an assignment in one course we had to come up with a character. This one’s name is Liddy and for some reason I’m just absolutely in love her. However, I just can’t seem to come up with a story to suit her. Any ideas?
Liddy pounded the dough heartily, her broad, meaty hands punching and twisting and flipping the floury mass into submission. She hummed as she toiled over her custom workbench. Well, custom may be a bit of an exaggeration, her husband Henry had simply sawed off the wooden feet to allow her enough height to really get to going on it. She smiled to herself as she wiped flour on the faded apron splayed over her round tummy, the ties just long enough to do up round back. Thinking of Henry always made her smile.
“Liddy” he’d always say, “you’re as big around as you are tall and I love every single inch of you!”
The thought slowly bled the smile from her lips as tears welled up in her eyes, his loss still weighing heavy on her heart. Wiping the tears away somewhat impatiently she got back to working her dough knowing the farmhands would be in from the fields soon and would be expecting their dinner.