I just discovered Glennon Doyle Melton. For those of you in as much of the dark as I have been, Glennon is the writer of the popular blog momastery.com, the author of a memoir, Carry On Warrior, and a public speaker. My dear friend Becky perked me up to Melton’s existence. “I’m reading a book that’s basically this woman’s blog posts all put together, and it’s really good,” said she. “Oh really?” said I, thinking I should check this out since I’ve often wondered how one does that. Makes blog posts into a book, I mean. For (hopefully) obvious reasons. So I grabbed my library card and tracked the book down. And I discovered something amazing. It was like reading something I’d written myself, but better. Funnier, with less grammatical errors and a more fascinating past full of drugs and drama. But the same heart. The same themes of hope and living in its light, the same verbiage, the same willingness to let it all hang out whether it makes her look good or not. The not being better, actually, because it demonstrates her humanity. Even the same love of Anne Lamott. I’m so in Glennon’s camp. Like the tent next to hers, but with rain leaking in because it’s not made as well.
My reaction to this was tri-fold: first I was sad. Everything I’m saying has been said, by a more successful person at saying things. My story isn’t nearly as dramatic. She’d been there, done that before I even got started. Excellent.
Once that sunk in I moved on to feeling lame for wishing I had a more “dramatic” (i.e. difficult and painful) past to propel me to success. Nice. Jealousy over someone else’s hardships to gain good writing material. I am a jerk.
Third and lastly I settled on feeling excited. Like I found a small treasure. Yes, it’s for everyone willing to read it – not mine to keep – but I found a person who thinks the way I think. And that’s always good. It’s the point of writing, really. To express yourself and let the world find what it wants and needs in your words. To connect with the rest of the people on the planet. To participate in beauty-finding, hope-giving things. Glennon, if I may call her that, and by reading her writing I think I may, is down with that and so am I. As Ben Lee sings, we’re all in this together. My tent may be leakier, but I’m glad to be camping near Glennon Doyle Melton, whether she knows I’m there or not.