This was going to go much much longer...but I only wanted to stick to the 15 minutes...I might still work on Lily's first karaoke experience sometime in the future but for now...it's just the beginning of a night out...

Write a background story about your protagonist. Make your readers relate to him or her in such a way that we would be devastated if he or she were to experience conflict.

This is a story about Lily, my main protagonist, told from one of her close friends, Hudson about getting ready for girls night.

Lily was the antithesis of getting all gussied up to go out for a girls night. While I spent the good part of an hour blow drying and curling my hair, painting on a face and shifting the weight from one foot to another in front of my closet, Lily could have cared less. It was an afterthought for her. Most of the time, I would pull up in front of her tiny little art studio that also served as her house and honk. We’d wait for tons of minutes before honking again. Then, either Brooke or myself would march up to her front door. She’d sheepishly answer the door, dyed blond hair thrown into a messy and static bunch on top of her head, face void of any and all make-up. She would most likely still have paint splattered jeans on, at least one size too big for her athletic frame and a t-shirt that was artfully baggy, exposing her tattoos that also splattered her arms. You would think that she would have been the cast-off in our group or the one that others considered the ugly duckling since Brooke and I took such care for going out, but that was just the thing; she was the intrigue. She was the one everyone wanted to talk to.
Lily liked to drink. She liked to go out, sit at the bar, shoot the shit and play pool. She never interacted with the men that came over to our table, never smoked with a group outside of the bar and only played pool with strangers for winning money or beer. She was cynical, funny, dark, and as much as I hate to say it, beautifully mysterious.
So on our regular billiards girls’ night out, Lily was in an upbeat mood. Her hair was braided into two pigtails and there was a chunk of green paint globbed to the side of one of her braids. She was wearing jeans that had numerous holes in the knees and slung low on her hips. She had on a guys purple t-shirt and was carrying a navy sweatshirt.
“Sorry, sorry! I was finishing up this painting for this Salt Lake City gallery, but my brother called and I totally lost track of time!” She said, slamming the door. “What, Hudson?” I shook my head at her.
“Nothing! It’s just that Brooke and I have been waiting in the car for you for 15 minutes.” Lily shrugged.
“I was getting ready!” she exclaimed, opening the back seat door to my car. I looked up and down at her poorly decked out figure.
“You put THAT together in 15 minutes? Ha! Let’s go.” We got in the car and I headed to Dylan’s, the bar that we frequented. I turned on the music and we all rocked back and forth, singing loudly and obnoxiously. For what it was worth, Lily had a pretty darn good voice for such a crass and unimpending person. She lit up a smoke and quietly stared out the window. Brooke and I babbled about Eric, this guy we both thought was pretty cute and always hung out at Dylan’s on Friday nights.
Dylan’s was loud and packed as usual. We found three seats at the bar near the pool tables, but to Lily’s dismay, the pool tables were packed with quarters lined up in waiting on each and every table.
“Come on, Lilz, let’s go put our quarters up on a table, OK?” Eric asked Lily, winking at me. I smiled and blushed back. Lily drained her beer and set it on the bar, harder than necessary. She shook her head.
“I’m fine,” she sighed. “This is fine, guys. I’ll simply deal.” Another sigh. “I don’t want to spend the night waiting for other people to finish playing.” Relaxed, a tad pissed off but uncaring…another night with Lilz.


Doing something does not require discipline. It creates its own discipline -- with a little help from caffeine. *Annie Dillard