I left Brooklyn for New Jersey on November 1, 2023, selling my condo and quitting my job to move to a small town to escape a lifetime of careerist anxiety and finally finish the memoir I’d been writing for a decade.

I had tried to write about my undocumented family’s forced separation in Ecuador and eventual reunion back in the US twice before–once in college and again in my late 20s–but without taking any writing courses and addressing the trauma of those experiences, the resulting pages lacked skill and depth.

And while the writing itself was nourishing, the subject matter also made it draining and isolating, especially as writing competed with other life demands. In an unexpected turn of events, as isolation deepened during the 2020 lockdown, I decided to take my first online writing classes. Upon meeting writers from around the country, I began exploring the idea of leaving the big city hustle behind and moving to a smaller town. My writing dreams were beginning to feel within reach.

Still, on the morning of my move, I was flooded with doubt. I wondered, as I always had, if I’d made a huge mistake–quitting my job, leaving a city known to be a literary haven, and, most of all, tackling a controversial topic like immigration.

On November 1, 2024, exactly one year later, I completed, printed, and mailed my 50,000-word memoir manuscript to my fellow writers in book inc’s Memoir Incubator. Over the past year, 11 other writers and I met regularly on Zoom—and for those of us living in town, we occasionally grabbed coffee at the Italian bakery on the main street. We explored different outlining techniques, worked through generative writing exercises, and drafted chapter after chapter. Once the drafting was done, we exchanged manuscripts, scribbled notes in the margins, and supported each other through the fears that arose as we waited for our feedback.

The job of a writer is often to squirrel away and write what only they can write (especially for memoirists), and to be brave enough to share that with the world. But along the way, as the bills pile up and the rejections roll in, we worry about being a starving artist, publishing, applying to MFAs, residencies, retreats—and we focus less and less on the writing.

But the joy of a writer comes not from isolation but from the camaraderie we build when we write in community. As pressure mounts and inspiration grows scarce, community is what lightens our burdens and what gives us the time, space, and freedom to write the stories in our hearts.

Just as my move brought the peace I needed for creativity, my community has supported me to keep writing with purpose. As I continue my writing journey in a new home, I’m committed to protecting the joy of writing in community.

To get in touch and follow my writing journey, please visit my website and sign up for my annual newsletter at www.michelecantosgarcia.com.