Boxing Day

It's been 10 days since the last pathetic post. Should I give myself a reprieve because it's Christmas? Or should I spend some time beating myself up over my lack of self-discipline? I need some imposed discipline, I know.
I've had a few ideas over the last 10 days.
The story that begins, "Alice Madigan dreamed about her daughter last night..." and ends, "She heard her daughter's voice. 'Mom? Are you okay? I had a dream about you last night and it worried me."
Trite? Maybe. The coincidence of estranged mother and daughter each dreaming about the other. But maybe there could be some truth in the mother's thoughts as she contemplates her dream and her broken relationship with her daughter. That's really what the story should be about, no?

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I finished reading "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell" a little while ago. A wonderful, fictional world. Should be inspiring. A first time novelist, obviously middle-aged. She worked on this thing for 12 years. I seem to have time giving up 12 minutes to my writing.
Nevertheless, she proves that it is possible to come out of the chute with something special first time.
I also want to tackle "Gilead", although after two fairly difficult and long books -- "Vanity Fair" and "Strange/Norrell" -- I think I need an easy, light read. I'm not sure whether any of the books I've got waiting really fill the bill. "The Rule of Four"? "Wandering Gods"?
There was one in the Times Book Review today that I want to get on my order list. I'm getting quite backed up on Amazon.com. Need to place a January order soon.

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You know what? I've done eight minutes just now and I'm not really in a creative mood. I'll try to write again tomorrow and maybe get back to my daily routine, if it ever was that.