Apr 112012



Here it is, precious Monkees.


Below is the press release that went out to the AP at noon today.


I have been too embarrassed to ask my agents or publishers or Sister exactly what the AP is. I know that it stands for Associated Press, and I gather that it must be some sort of group or wire or building or machine into which news comes and then goes.  Goes where exactly?? I do not know. Places. Fancy places where fancy announcements are made.


Momastery  is the most important place to break this news, though. To you, the folks who believed in this love experiment strongly enough to come back each day and to do the hard work of creating community. I am so grateful. I’m really, really grateful to you.

You should know that Scribner is the place we were meant to land. They are a wise, inspired, majestic bunch. Also, Scribner’s list of authors is breathtaking. I hate to drop names but only a little, so how about Jeannette Walls, Geneen Roth, Stephen King, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Ernest Hemingway to start? Heard of them? I’ve heard that Hemingway started as a mommy blogger, too.


This morning my friend Courtney said, “Thank you for helping me navigate this brutiful world. It’s much better living alongside a pack of Monkees than alone.”  THAT’S what this day is about.  Life together is better than life alone.


Thank you, Monkees. Thank you, World.  I am going to do my best to make us proud.








NEW YORK, April 11, 2012—Following a highly competitive, ten-publisher auction, Scribner has acquired the first book by Glennon Doyle Melton, the writer and personality behind the highly popular website Momastery.com, where thousands of women gather daily.  To be titled Carry On, Warrior, the book will feature new material and some of Melton’s most beloved essays on faith, family, marriage, motherhood, addiction, and recovery. The announcement was made today by Susan Moldow, Executive Vice President and Publisher of Scribner. Carry On, Warrior is scheduled for publication in spring 2013 with a simultaneous audio release by Simon & Schuster Audio.

“I’m ecstatic to have found in Scribner the perfect home for all present and future Monkees,” said Glennon Doyle Melton. “Our dream is that Carry On, Warrior will weave Momastery’s messages of hope, forgiveness, humor, and redemption into pages that will be cherished and passed on from one Life Warrior to another.”

“We are thrilled to be publishing Glennon Doyle Melton,” said Susan Moldow. “Her uniquely affecting, honest, and humorous voice is a standout among women writing about motherhood, marriage, and life today as evidenced by the significant community of women already following her online.”

Momastery.com attracted national attention when the author’s essay, “Don’t Carpe Diem,” was featured on the Huffington Post in January 2012, resulting in more than 500,000 shares. Fans have since flocked to the site where she chronicles episodes in her own life and the universal experience of women. Many fans of Momastery, referring to themselves as “Monkees,” have started meet-up groups nationwide to foster connection within their communities and have donated tens of thousands of dollars to families in need through Melton’s not-for-profit, Monkee See-Monkee Do.

Whitney Frick, Editor at Scribner, who will edit the book, acquired North American rights from literary agents Sally Wofford-Girand of Brick House Literary Agents and Trena Keating of Keating Literary who co-represented the project.

Scribner is an imprint of Simon & Schuster, Inc., a part of CBS Corporation. Simon & Schuster is a global leader in the field of general interest publishing, dedicated to providing the best in fiction and nonfiction for consumers of all ages, across all printed, electronic, and audio formats.  Its divisions include Simon & Schuster Adult Publishing, Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing, Simon & Schuster Audio, Simon & Schuster Digital, and international companies in Australia, Canada, India, and the United Kingdom.  For more information visit our website at www.simonandschuster.com.

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“Every time I’m out with my kids-this seems to happen: An older woman stops us, puts her hand over her heart and says something like, “Oh, enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast.” Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to seize the moment, raise my awareness, behappy, enjoy every second, etc, etc, etc.  I know that this message is right and good. But, this CARPE DIEM message makes me paranoid and panicky. Especially during this phase of my life-while I’m raising young kids.  I can’t even carpe fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question.”

-from the essay “Don’t Carpe Diem” by Glennon Doyle Melton

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Sep 172012

I’ve been fielding lots of questions about my college years lately. These are hard questions to answer because those years are hard to describe, and by describe I mean remember.

Here’s a snapshot.



My college experience was a little….vague. I am told that I had an excellent time, but I can’t be sure. Mercifully, I mostly recall college as a seven year black out, but sometimes a memory of something I did, said, or worse, WORE, hits me like a wave of nausea, and I marvel at how I made it out of there alive.

Throughout college I had this sweet little ritual where I’d enjoy a couple dozen drinks and then go for a walk, perhaps at 3 am. And then, usually, I’d get lost and decide to go ahead and sleep in a cozy parking lot or under a tree somewhere in town. It was like camping, except without a tent, clue, or functioning liver. There must have been a strict No Camping rule in my college town though, because I was often awakened by annoyed men and women with guns. These uniformed bandits were not my parents, although it would take me a good three minutes to understand this. They would ask me why I was on the ground and I would assure them that I planned to explain just as soon as they told me where we all were, and also, my name.

Fortunately they actually would be able to teach me my name because, well, we’d met before. We went way back. And they’d invite me into the back of their cozy car and put shiny silver handcuffs on me. And I would sort of settle in and ask them how their families were, and they’d tell me. They liked me, and I liked them. I went to school in a sleepy little town, and so I like to think that maybe the night police shift was glad to have the company.

So we’d continue to catch up and all would go smoothly, but inevitably during the ride to my new camping spot my officers would get frustrated. Because every time they turned around to check on me, my handcuffs would be off and placed in a tidy pile on the seat beside me. So they’d stop the car and put them back on. And I’d take them back off. My wrists are very small and I had decided that while it may have been silly for one to sleep under a tree in January, it was ridiculous for one to PRETEND that one is handcuffed. I just couldn’t fake it, though I did try for the sake of my police friends. I have a paralyzing respect for authority, so I was always vehemently on their side. But they really were going to have to do better with the handcuffs. I understood that they weren’t arresting child sized people often, but still. I explained that it was probably important to be better prepared.

{A few years ago, Craig and I were watching Cops and I noticed that police forces had started using plastic cuffs that look like garbage bag ties which close more tightly. I got very excited and told Craig that I was positive that the plastic tie handcuff innovation was inspired by me and my mini wrists. He stared, as always, and then asked me to never share that theory with anyone. But it’s hard not to discuss what may have been a real contribution to the law enforcement community on my part.}

When we got to the station I would say hello to Tom and Carla, who were often in charge of checking me in. “Booking,” I believe they called it. They were lovely people, just lovely. And they’d lead me into my very own private cell which made me feel like a bit of a celebrity, to tell you the truth. Special treatment, you know. One time, after having been there for a few hours I called Carla over and asked her if I could be released early for good behavior. I’d been quite well behaved that night, if I did so say myself. She said no, it didn’t work that way. But she did agree that I was being especially good, so she shared her granola bar with me. I was deeply touched.

Eventually I’d fall asleep and I’d awake in the morning and call my long suffering friend Dana, who had always wisely slipped an index card with our phone number into my back pocket. And she’d pick me up and we’d go to Waffle House and discuss what we were going to wear that night.

Wow. Strange, but true.

I started thinking of these stories yesterday when I got an email from a woman who is a sheriff deputy and reads this blog daily. In her email she thanked me for inspiring her. I was up all night thinking about her and how proud I am that she’s reading my blog. I forwarded her email to my dad with the subject line: DAD– THE POLICE ARE READING MY BLOG! which was probably so much more enjoyable for him to receive than my usual announcement “DAD- THE POLICE ARE READING MY RIGHTS!”

You guys, I don’t want to sound boastful, but I think I’m finally coming up in the world.

Joelle, Tom, Carla, Grandpa, and every other kind and dedicated officer. Thank you. Thank you for protecting me from bad guys, even when the bad guy is me. Thank you for serving so bravely and honorably. Thank you for improving all of my camping experiences exponentially. And thank you, especially, for the granola bar. I was really hungry. I appreciate you.




And for those of you who’d like a deeper, heavier, truer snapshot of real addiction today, click here. 


Love Again,


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