American writer Jessamyn West (1902-1984), wrote. “Writing is a solitary occupation. Family, friends, and society are the natural enemies of the writer. He must be alone, uninterrupted, and slightly savage if he is to sustain and complete an undertaking.”

As a freelance copywriter, I don’t think I really qualify as “slightly savage,” but I do think I need to be alone to get things done. But sometimes the isolation makes one a little batty, or a smidge restless, or downright bonkers.

The isolation of my beautiful, quiet office near downtown San Diego sometimes gets to me. My new apartment is about a thousand square feet, and my office is huge, probably 15′x20′. I don’t have much furniture, so there’s a small echo when my fingers hit the keys and a much bigger echo when I talk on the phone. There’s also a saturating sound of solitude when my sandals slap against the hardwood floors in the long, long hallway.

I spend 8 to 10 to 14 hours a day in this office, alone unless the cat needs petting or senses that I’m eating tuna. Most of my communication with clients is via email with the occasional call. D.J. and I connect several times a day, but for the most part, I sit here without social interaction. Most days I dress, but I frequently end up wearing the same sweatshirts and jeans and mismatched socks, since nothing really gets very dirty while I sit and type.

I don’t know exactly how to solve this problem that is intrinsic to working from home. I did a survey on telecommuting a few weeks ago, and plenty of people mentioned that isolation was a challenge. I’ve been working from home off and on since 2003, so you’d think I’d be used to it by now. But sometimes, when I go a few days without a social interaction, I really feel alone.

I write this note in the midst of a reconnection explosion brought about by the blurb I sent into my alumni magazine for the University of North Texas. All of a sudden, the newspaper staff from my college days are chiming in with their updates of new babies and jobs and their memories of old stories and people. I was a writer then as well, but we all wrote together each day, and the sense of community drove us to achieve more. I wonder if I could create a hive of freelance writers who could sit in star-station desks across from one another. I envision a half dozen workers in a room, ears glued to phones, fingers glued to keyboards, cranking out case studies for one client and press releases for another. Would we slam down the phone after a call to announce, “Awesome! Got the testimonial I needed to finish that brochure!”? Eh. Probably not. Copywriting is not really as much of an adrenalin rush as journalism is.

But it would be nice to see someone here in my office sometime, maybe someone who could say, “Headed to the kitchen. Another cup of coffee?” Or maybe a couple of someones who could conspire to bring cupcakes on staff birthdays.

The isolation won’t keep me from continuing to grow my business, but if you’re in the area and need a place to work, come on by. I’ll pick up some cupcakes, and I’d love the company. I’ll even dress.