Pure Writerly Moments 3

The Tyranny of the Specific

Long ago, in the far-off world of 2016-2017, I completed an online certificate program in creative writing from Wesleyan University. Now, in the year 2025, I'm working back through the notes from that course. Little by little, I want to take apart these bits of wisdom through the writing process. The writing process can often feel overwhelming, but revisiting those notes reminds me of the importance of specificity in storytelling.

I have written down "The Tyranny of the Specific: the more specific something is, the more universal it feels." I write these notes on my VETESA generic laptop, which I bought in Japan for under 300 dollars. It has served me well throughout the pandemic, though if I am honest, I ask it to do very little. What can I say about this laptop specifically that speaks to its universality?"Replace the generic and vague with the specific in your writing, and you're on your way to becoming a master like Toni Morrison." That is the other note I have written.

Since I want to write with the craftsmanship of Toni Morrison, I persist.

Well, for one, there is the 14-inch screen, which makes it seem more expensive than it is. But there are those little creaks and fidgets that remind me that I am doing my master craft on a budget tool. The keys tend to stick when I type. And for some reason, the wireless internet doesn't always connect. If I were to personalize the laptop, I would say there is that odd feeling that despite its low-rent character, I had somehow oddly married into my laptop station in life.

Life is full of quirks. Specific quirks. Perhaps these minor flaws tell a story. The laptop was born into a noble family, but due to the folly of a drunk laptop father, this family of laptops had fallen on hard times. Though there is still that air of noble blood running through the laptop, reminding all of its good breeding, there is no getting the images of the laptop's father, drunk on the park bench that winter, vomiting up its RAM on the nearest passerby. My laptop, the oldest daughter laptop of the family, had gone to work on the street corner to help make ends meet. Now, what could have been the laptop of a high-end law firm is in the hands of some ruddy writer with clumsy fingers and a penchant for spilling coffee all over the place. When I've been drinking, I tend to get a bit too "handsy" with the keyboard.

The laptop speaks to me now, through my notes, and reminds me that I am no Toni Morrison, just as she is no law firm partner's laptop partner. We are both a bit cheap, worn, and apt to get stuck from time to time. That's life...specifically...universally...unfortunately. Perhaps that was the point I was trying to get across in my notes.