*hey there, it's christa*

Getting Wistful for Paperbacks, Hardcovers and Dusty Ol' Library Basements

I'll be honest, I'm not usually a pine-for-the-old-days kind of gal.

Sure, I absolutely adore old movies and prefer writing actual letters (yes, in my own frilly cursive) to e-mail any day of the week, but you won't see me giving up electricity and "living off the land" any time soon. After all, I enjoy all the perks of modern life too much to go granola.

Although I was a little late to the party, I'm still in awe of my cell phone's multi-tasking powers and love that I never have to miss my favorite TV shows again, thanks to the wonders of DVR. And given my perpetually direction-challenged nature and how I now live in a place with practically 2,353 different freeways, I'm a big, big fan of Greta, my GPS (and yes, I named her).

And high-speed Internet? How did I ever manage without that? Oh wait, I endured that lovely hissing sound and loud "You've got mail" declaration from AOL.

As far as music goes, I like to kick it old-school and listen to entire albums (like my favorite artists intended) on a fairly regular basis. Still, I have to admit my iPod is a pretty great disc jockey, too. Not only does she (and yes, because she's hot pink, I've decided it's a girl!) provide a great soundtrack while I'm working, but I never have to hear any hideous Top-40 music unless I personally selected it.

Sweet.

All that said, however, I'll admit I was more than a little saddened by something I read online yesterday. Sure, it was inevitable, but I still couldn't believe my eyes when I saw that Amazon.com's digital book download sales have now far surpassed that of traditional books of the paper and hardback variety.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for reading—however people want to do it. I'm an author, after all, so any way we can get masses to forgo Facebook, TV and, well, pick up a book, I'm all for it. Truth be told, these e-readers have plenty of appeal since they're all nice and portable and perfect for traveling. And when paired with one of Kate Spade's too-cute-for-words cases, it's also quite the fashion statement. But as cool as they are, I still find myself resisting...

While I know the tides are changing, I'm just not ready for books to become dinosaurs. In fact, some of my favorite childhood memories involved holing up in a dusty basement of books at our local library. When you live in a small town, your library card is like your passport, and it's there where I discovered everything from Deenie (quite a scandalous read when you're 13) to Anne of Green Gables to The Great Gatsby and so many more.

Plus, for anyone who's ever been to our house, books are a major part of the Banister's decor, thanks to one giant IKEA bookshelf that's stuffed to the gills with theology, travel guides, biographies and plenty of fiction, too, not to mention that ever-growing stack of novels on our nightstand.

So suffice it to say, I couldn't imagine living in a world without pages to actually turn. And as it turns out, I'm not alone (whew!). While flipping through the most recent issue of Entertainment Weekly, namely the "Summer Must Lists," I found a kindred spirit in actor Tom Hanks.

"I still carry a bag of books around all summer, as I'm not enamored with the tactile experience of reading books on Kindles or iPads," Tom says. "Magazines, scripts and newspapers, sure, but my policy on books is: Buy, Read, Keep."

Aside from Cast Away, I knew I always liked that Tom Hanks. :) Here's hoping one day he'll carry around one of my novels one summer (or at least do the honors so Rita can enjoy it beachside)...

A Long, Long Jaunt Down I-35

Well, I'm officially living in the Lone Star state now, and my, my, my what a crazy journey it's been! I gotta say moving is truly not for the faint of heart.

After finishing up the packing (whew!) and officially saying goodbye to my downtown St. Paul abode, my friend Krista and I (along with Blackjack, Will and I's trusty black Toyota Highlander and Gretta, Krista's bossy but oh-so-helpful GPS) made the sizable trek to the place where everything's supposedly bigger and there's mouthwatering salsa and guacamole around every corner.

And thanks to our 16-hour journey down I-35, I crossed off two more destinations from my list of "States I've Never Been To" (Kansas and Oklahoma, for the record) and enjoyed a steady diet of classic rock (given how many times I heard Boston's "More Than a Feeling," you'd think it was a current pop song) and really bad country music where the lovelorn mourn the loss of their dog, their wives, their sanity etc. etc. 

When I wasn't tracking down the next totally bad song for Krista and I to listen to on our severely limited selection of stations, the people-watching and regular truck stop visits kept us plenty entertained for the duration. Truth be told, for such a long trip, the miles totally whizzed by, and before I knew it, we were finally in my new hometown.

In addition to taking a super fun road-trip with a fabulous friend,  I FINALLY got to see Will after nearly a month...a reunion we celebrated with a downright fabulous meal at Mi Cocina (try the cheese enchiladas there, and they will change your life, I promise) and a late-night showing of Eclipse, the guiltiest of guilty pleasures, I know. 

Since we're still waiting for our stuff from the movers, (don't even get me started on that), I still sort of feel like I'm on some sort of bizarro vacation when I wake up every morning. Dallas doesn't really feel like home yet, but I hope as I start getting our house in order (by the way, I love saying "house" instead of "apartment," I feel all grown up now), it will, y'all.

In the meantime, Will and I are thankful to have a place to stay while we wait (something I'm not very good at). When we moved to St. Paul four years ago, we slept on the floor for a good two weeks. So needless to say, a comfy bed in a lovely air-conditioned abode is definitely a blessing. Well, that and a huge supply of anti-frizz cream for my hair. Since it's humid and about a thousand degrees, my hair definitely looks worse for the wear without a little help from my friends at Aveda.

Lemme just go on the record and say I'm thankful for them, too. And I'm sure anyone who's forced to hang with me would agree.

The Lost Art of Writing Letters

While packing for a big move is generally one giant hassle, I have to admit that I actually love getting rid of all the stuff I really don't need.

I've never been a pack rat by nature, and clutter drives me absolutely nuts, so any opportunity to streamline our stash (especially after four years in the same apartment) is always welcome.

But in all my overzealous fits of throwing junk away over the years, I've always held on to an unobtrusive, medium-sized box of letters and cards that have really meant something to me.

With Will starting his new job three weeks ago, I've spent quite a bit of time by myself in this ol' apartment. And while I've never been the girl who always needs someone around, (I'm pretty good at keeping myself entertained most of the time, thanks to a plethora of books, DVDs, and well, freelance work), those letters felt like old friends when I found them again.

Nestled inside were a couple of notes my dad had written me—one congratulating me on qualifying for the junior high spelling bee, another penned in his gorgeous handwriting (definitely not the norm for most guys) with a simple "I love you."

In between all the little scraps of paper and smaller note cards were a plethora of birthday wishes from dear friends like Tracey Bumpus, Jazzy Jess Dumoulin, Janet Chismar and Suzie Walter—some adorned with glitter (my signature look for the bulk of my Nashville era), others featuring very tan, very buff cowboys (a very funny reminder of my single days, courtesy of Ms. Chismar). A couple of my favorites were humorous cards from my brother, Casey, who at one time, always signed his cards "Your Brother Casey"—as if I'd forgotten my one and only brother. :)

And then, there were the letters—piles and piles of letters from people who'd taken the time to let me know they cared by simply writing. Some were from my Mom, detailing the day-to-day happenings since she made the move from our childhood home in Ladysmith to Colorado Springs. Others were from my pal Krista Bergstrom, assuring me that God really did have good things in store when I was discouraged and not quite so sure.

Once again, I also felt blessed to have such a witty, wonderful hubby. Can I just say it's incredible being married to a fellow writer? Not only did his musings make me laugh (and tear up) all over again, but they would probably, on occasion, jumpstart a cynical person's gag reflex because they're so darn sweet. I'm thinking Romeo could've even learned a few things from Will...

You know who else writes a really good letter? My friend Melissa Riddle. Not only are the cards themselves truly one of a kind, but when I re-read what she wrote before Will and I moved from Nashville to St. Paul, it really encouraged me as Will and I are about to embark on another new season.

After reading Melissa's cards, my tears really kicked into full force when I saw the sizable stack from my sister, Lindsey. Scrawled in her trademark bubbly style that's practically a cousin to my own, I'd forgotten just how much we'd written to each other over the years. While sipping a tall glass of lemonade, I can't tell you how much fun it was to relive her semester spent in Europe (all written on incredibly scenic postcards), to read about all the joys (and drama) of her high school and Bethel University years and to hear about the new joys of life since she married her hubby, Shayne and became a Mama to the sweetest little muffin ever, Miss Adelyn Grace.

Even though we're eight years apart in actual age, you never would've guessed it from reading, and her thoughtfulness was yet another reminder of how thankful I am to have her in my life.

I must say...sorting through the box was not only a fantastic trip down Memory Lane, but a reminder of how much I love letters (writing, receiving them and otherwise). While e-mails and text messages are definitely faster (and necessary) in our time-challenged world, there's something truly special about hearing from friends and loved ones the old-fashioned way, complete with a return address and a stamp.

A Motivational Thought For Writers...

I've been a bit of slacker on the blog front lately, but with good reason, I promise.

Since we found out we're moving to the Big D in a few weeks (and officially renting a lovely, lovely house in Fort Worth that I can't wait to decorate), I've been a packing fool when I'm not working, etc. Instead of procrastinating (like I do with so many projects because you know, I love the adrenaline rush), I've been filling a few boxes each night so I won't want to pull my hair out once, oh, June 29th rolls around.

And somehow, all the prepping for our post-Minneapolis adventures got me thinking about novel writing.  One of the questions I get the most from aspiring writers is "How in the world did you finish one—let alone two—novels and not lose your sanity?" 

While I can't exactly guarantee that a little sanity wasn't lost in the process, I think writing books is a lot like all the packing I've been doing. If you devote a little time to it each day, whether it's just your lunch break, the two hours you would've spent watching "The Bachelorette" (a guilty pleasure of mine lately, I must admit), an hour before you head to the job that pays the bills, before you know it, you'll have made some serious progress in the ol' word count department.

And if you need more inspiration for getting started (or making progress) on your magnum opus pronto, consider the oh-so-wise words of novelist Toni Morrison: "If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it."

I don't know about you, but that's pretty motivating...in fact, it's just one of the many reasons I love writing romantic comedies in novel form. Instead of complaining about the new Kate Hudson bomb at the box office, I'm spending a few minutes a day offering an alternative. And whatever your genre, you can do the same...I promise.