So far, I am doing very well. Thank you for all the encouragement that I have received so far. I have been told that the first week is the easiest, so I may be updating more often this week than in the second and third week. It is supposed to get easier again during the last week.
As far as word counts goes, I have written 1411 words on one novel and 1860 words on a second novel. The bad news is that I have two novels. I started one, and it was having trouble going anywhere. Instead of saving it and trying later, I deleted it and began a totally different story. After realizing that the research for this second novel (which was a mystery) was going to be more than 30 days could handle, I went back to the first story concept and began again.
By the time 30 days is over, I just might have 100 novels started and none completed. Let's hope not. I have put the mystery adside for now and am sticking with the highly, almost entirely fictional account of my life. Here is an excert for you to read.
I am not allowed to edit and even spell checking is strongly discouraged. the point is to get as much wordage out of the month as possible. I am a notoriously bad speller, and my typing is even worse than my spelling- so please forgive me all the mistakes. Hopefully, it will be readable.
"Reba's first memory was that of being strapped to a car seat, that sat on a lush green lawn. A large concrete apartment complex loomed gray and formidable behind her, and before her sat a small black lab puppy. There are no adults in this memory. Just that gray stone building and the black puppy that promptly lifted his hind leg and peed on Reba. Sometimes Reba remembers that she was wearing a yellow dress with ruffles. Other times she remembers that she was naked. Either way. There she was: strapped in a car seat, all alone, and being peed on by a dog. Every one highly doubts this memory is true. Reba is well known for being imaginative, and not being able to discern reality from her vivid dreams. But Reba knows it is in fact, a very true memory. She has hidden in her room, in a box. Buried underneath concert tickets, and cheap jewelry pieces, a photograph of a young child, sitting in a car seat, and beside her sits a young black lab. In Reba's mind, this is enough proof. It doesn't matter to her that Someone had to take the picture, that SOMEONE was behind a camera, it doesn't matter that it would be impossible to be alone and have a picture taken at the same time. Reba remembers it one way, and in her mind, that memory is very important."