No, it has not died. It just took an unannounced, indefinite vacation. 
My post regarding fantasy is in the draft stage, and will hopefully be up within a week. In the meantime, the Quote Book and Rising of the Sunpages have been updated. You may also notice a new look; I don’t like the fact that my blogroll is no longer categorized, but I do like the header. Ah well, can’t have everything, I suppose.
Thank you to those who kept checking for life here, especially the encouragement from Kristin. 
My hope is to post here at least once a week now, and no more unannounced vacations.
I have started my Apprentice course from the Christian Writers Guild, and I am loving it! It is stretching in ways, but wonderful. I’ve also been working my way through the Lord of the Rings trilogy (due to a bargain I made with a friend). I was dragging through the Fellowship of the Ring…until Strider (Aragorn) stepped onto the scene. Suffice it to say I think I am a LotR convert. Aside from that, I haven’t had time to be doing much reading. Lewis’s Mere Christianity is next on my list of nonfiction books.
Recently, I have rediscovered the power of a literal pen and paper. A good friend of mine is without consistent computer access (and regular phone usage), and I have been writing old-fashioned letters for a change. I was rather worried at the beginning of this correspondence, as I had not conversed regularly this way for several years. However, I have found that few things stimulate my mind better than attempting to describe thoughts, feelings, and happenings to someone at a distance, without the benefit of voice inflection or emoticons (though, since we both are frequent IMers at other times, we work a few of those into our letters). Holding a pen in my hand and feeling the paper beneath it somehow awakens my brain. Try it sometime, but only with a good friend with whom you are completely comfortable. Might wake up your muse again.
I leave you with this, from the Fellowship:
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.
