Keyboards & Quicksand: The Hidden Cost of Doing Everything Solo

Photo by Vonecia Carswell on Unsplash

Thunder rattled the windows as my fingers flew across the keyboard in a blur of 100 words per minute. The screen filled so fast the cursor vanished, swallowed by sentences. It wasn’t the lightning outside making things flicker.

Writing my first book felt like a secret treasure: something untold, raw, and exclusively mine. It was thrilling enough to hook me yet vulnerable enough to sting.

Whenever time allowed, I added more.

Bad day? More words.

Heartache? More words.

The deeper the pain, the faster the document grew.

And somehow, the more I wrote, the heavier life felt.

For nearly six years, this was the rhythm. Typing. Revising. Despairing. Just me, a blinking screen, and the growing hunger for something absent.

What was it?

Let’s see… fresh air, balance, and maybe a friend or two. Turns out writing a book all by yourself is like trying to host a dinner party and forgetting to invite anyone. You can set the table, light the candles, and serve the soup, but you’ll still be eating alone.

That’s when I learned the uncomfortable truth: creation without community isn’t noble—it’s exhausting.

Sure, I had pages and pages of words, but no voices to sharpen them, no shoulders to lean on when the weight pressed in. It wasn’t just a solo mission. It was a slow crawl through quicksand.

That’s when it hit me.

Words alone weren’t enough. What I needed—what everyone needs—is community. Not the kind that shows up only for holidays or Instagram photos, but one that actually sticks around, challenges you, and makes you better.

As an author, words matter. Deeply.

Within the word “community” I discovered another: unity.

It’s simple, but powerful.

Here’s what it looks like when put into play:

U | Understanding
This isn’t just nodding while someone talks. It’s asking questions, listening intently, and trying to see the world through someone else’s eyes. Seek different perspectives, hear the whole story, and build bridges instead of walls.

N | Nurture
Care, encourage, help someone grow. Think of it as a garden. Some plants need sunlight, some need pruning, all of them need water. Create spaces where people feel valued, sprinkle in small acts of kindness, and watch relationships bloom.

I | Intentionality
Don’t wait for community to happen; make the choice to connect. Go first. Bring all of you. Be deliberate. Because without it, everything falls flat.

T | Teamwork
It’s not just sharing tasks. It’s sharing victories, mistakes, and a little chaos along the way. Collaborate toward common goals and recognize that doing things together doesn’t just get results. It creates rhythm, trust, and purpose.

Y | Yearning
Keep wanting it. Long for harmony, connection, togetherness. Community grows from desire, not obligation. When you genuinely want it, you push past differences, build cohesion, and keep the fire alive.

In January 2024, I joined a local “chapter,” a group of delightful fellow writers. Turns out, they were feeling the same things. Dinner events, party of one.

Suddenly, we weren’t alone anymore.

If you want to go fast, go alone.

If you want to go far, go together.

~African Proverb