There are good points in this story, the premise is excellent and the idea of redundancy is vast enough to explore.

However, there are some flaws in the execution. They aren't huge, just small flaws but they add to each others and I'm afraid they harmed the story too much. Let's try to cover them.

First, this quote:

my client and friend, Anne,

I noticed this during my second reading. For the rest of the story, I thought that Anne was just a client, especially because the narrator doesn't really show his feelings. He seems neutral before Anne's illness so I don't really what to do with this information. Does the narrator doesn't express emotions because he tries to hide them or doesn't he just really care for her anymore?

Second, the comment.

There's that nasty fact we don't want to face: we're redundant, too. We often take pride in individuality, and cherish being unique, but the truth is that there are more than enough humans to continue the civilized world, and that's what really matters in the long run. We are always passing the torch and there is always someone there to take it.

This is an interesting comment on humankind and life. However, it felt like a statement, it isn't really tied to the narrator's journey, nor his emotions. It's just kinda there and thus, the impact is weakened.

Third, the action.
The narrator isn't doing anything. It isn't usually a problem, there are many great stories without any action, but here, for me, it harms the theme you have chosen because, with the word redundancy comes the word repetition, and I was kinda expecting the narrator to repeat some actions.

Fourth, the time frame.
The story starts with the narrator in his home in the present. But after two shorts paragraphs, more than half of the story is just telling us what happened.

So I have the old file server, a little black box on a shelf.

It's only with this sentence that we go back to the present.
Once again, I'm not saying that building a story around time frames switching is a bad idea in itself but here, I think the balance between the present and the past isn't, well, balanced.

And fifth, I'm still trying to figure out what to do with these two quotes.

It's not a life I can live for her. I have my own, and we all only get one. I won't spend mine in listening to her music and reading her words and trying to rebuild part of her soul in my own mind. But I still haven't wiped her data from the file server.

And

Anne doesn't care about any of this, now. She has lost the ability. I still do care, for what it's worth.

For the first quote, I understand why the narrator doesn't want to relive Anna's life but the second one makes me wonder what does it has to do with redundancy. If he had relive Anna's life, I would have got it. If he would have simply erased the data, I would have still got it (it would have been a much darker take on the idea).
But here, I just don't understand why he's keeping the data. Does he feel bad for not having been here for his friend (see first point)? Does he feel that he actually has the power to erase the last shred of Anna's existence and that's something too big for him?

To sum up, the story falls short from being great because of these small flaws and I'm pretty sure that with only few additions here and there, it could shine brighter. I'm also afraid that the words count didn't play in its favor. Trying to contain a big idea in such a small space isn't easy but this story still managed to convey the main part. It's around the edges that there is a problem.

Anyway, I hope my review didn't sound harsh, author, because despite what I've said, the story was still enjoyable.

I will now use about 1800 words to ramble about illocutionary force and worldviews in relation to literature.

This is an interesting story, on many levels. I think it's technically sound, and I like what it's trying to do, but it also feels 'flat' to me, and I'm going to spend probably entirely too long explaining what I mean by that word and why I feel that way.

First up, layers of interaction.

I don't think we can directly experience someone else. All human interaction goes something like:

(My brain) - (My senses) - (The world) - (Your senses) - (Your brain)

This is somewhat of a philosophical abstraction, and I'm certain there are different views. But this is part of my worldview (more on that in a moment) and the key idea here is that we can't really know someone else, not in the same way we can know ourselves.

For example, I know I like green peppers. I know my brother dislikes green peppers. But I don't really know how he experiences green peppers. Perhaps it's the same way I do, and he simply feels differently about that. Maybe he experiences them in a way I would find equally repulsive. Regardless, I don't really know how he feels about green peppers; all I know is that he does things that I equate to 'dislike'; I've divined something about his brain through his actions and my senses. I might be able to get close, with enough information, even figure it out exactly, but I can't just experience it directly.

I think this idea is important, because it maps to how we communicate with ideas and actions. What people say and do is not the same as what they think, feel, and believe. It merely represents that. This is why 'actions speak louder than words' is a common saying. Communication and ideas come in several layers, and to get at more and more abstract ideas inside someone's communication, we need more actions, words, information in one way or another.

Layers of communication go something like this:

actions - what we do - what's allowed
values - what we want - what's good
beliefs - what we believe - what's true
worldview - who we are - what's real

Basically. For example, I see someone at the doctor's office. I ask why they're there. They say it's because they have a skin condition. That action contains a value judgement - having a skin condition is bad, making it go away is good. But it also contains deeper ideas, like 'going to a doctor can make you better', which in turn contains ideas like 'science works', which in turn contains ideas like 'the observable world is trustworthy'. These are the layers of this person's communication, and it's possible I've learned something about their worldview, an integral part of who they are, from this interaction. Well, one question is usually not enough to really feel like I've learned something about their core personality - really began to know them, but more on that in a moment.

Including value/belief stuff is part of what this story does right. This line:

There's that nasty fact we don't want to face: we're redundant, too. We often take pride in individuality, and cherish being unique, but the truth is that there are more than enough humans to continue the civilized world, and that's what really matters in the long run.

Is statement of values/beliefs that reveals a worldview. Having this sort of thing in a story is good.

It's entirely too common for authors to content themselves with just actions in a story, and not intentionally delve into values or beliefs. This is one way that a story might end up feeling superficial; an author who only focuses on actions can have characters who's motivations and decision making feels empty or confused, because the reasons they're doing the things they do never come across, or conflict.

Also, one of the challenges in fiction - especially short fiction - is information density. Being able to shove more meaning into less words is a great way to make a bigger impact on the reader, which gets much harder with less words, so using deeper meaning is something I think everyone should do, and the shorter the story, the harder they should try.

This is one of the things that comes across to me as 'theme' in a story; the idea that the whole story reveals something about the values/beliefs/worldview of the author or the characters, as a unifying idea across the entire story. This story has that. (I don't think this is the only thing theme can be, or even necessarily the best thing, but that's another discussion.)

Anyways, I'm glad it's in here. However.

I, personally, don't like this, because I don't believe it. Part of my worldview makes me believe that individual humans have value. If humans are redundant, without individual value, that's a direct contradiction of my worldview, so I can't agree with it. And that's a problem, because this story is 'flat'.

Now you might be thinking "!Hat, how can this be flat? You've clearly stated that this story has deeper aspects like value and belief in it!" And that's true. What I mean is that they way you're communicating the deeper ideas to me is flat.

To talk about this, I need to talk about a linguistic concept called 'illocutionary force'. This is a somewhat fuzzy idea that linguists like to argue about, it's basically the idea that our words don't really mean what they say, sometimes.

At face value, that might sound like nonsense. But with a moment of reflection, it can start to make sense. I might say to someone in my house: 'Hey, I think a window's open.' On the surface, that looks like a statement of fact, but in context, it may well be a question - 'would you please close the window?' or even a demand - 'Close the window right now!' What's said on the surface is called the 'locutionary act' - what I actually said. The 'illocutionary act' was the intent 'asking someone to close the window'. The 'perlocutionary act' is what my words actually cause - you might close the window, you might slap me, you might totally ignore me.

This is, I think, some of what's behind the classic 'show/tell' topic that comes up every so often. Anton Chekov's apocryphal line was "Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass." I think this is about illocutionary force; don't just use locution, use illocution and perlocution in your writing as well.

This is important, because illocutionary force somewhat maps to worldview/value/belief communication. If I don't understand how someone thinks, I can't use implied meaning to communicate. But if I can, it shows that I know them well. So illocutionary force also maps somewhat to depth of personal relationships. If I know someone very well, I can demand they close the window using just their name. This is an extreme illocutionary act, and it would show that we're very close to each other, because our communication has great depth to it.

Thinking about the illocutionary acts between the characters can give a sense that they're close to each other, and help iron out their motivations and give their speech and actions greater depth and clarity, which will, in turn, draw the reader deeper in, because they'll understand the characters more deeply and completely.

Now, this ties into the whole 'subtlety is dangerous' thing that's come up in the writeoffs at various times before, too. Illocutionary acts are, by their very nature, subtle. However, used correctly, they can literally show more than they tell; the illocutionary act is another vector for meaning in a story, which means greater information density, and possibly, greater impact.

But there's another axis to consider here as well. A story is, in some manner, a communication between the author and the reader, and it's possible to have illocutionary acts in that as well. Going back to theme, if the theme is a value or belief that the story is trying to convey to me, the reader, then there's a case to be made for including more than locution in that message, as well. If you communicate the theme to me implicitly, it helps close the distance between us, because, again, illocutionary communication means deeper understanding, and that means more emotional investment. (We feel for people we're close to - if you act like we're close, I'm more likely to feel for you.)

There's also a... 'rightness', in my mind, to putting deeper levels of information on deeper levels of communication. If a value is revealed through implication, as opposed to a statement, I'm more likely to trust it, because I feel like I've connected to them more closely, it seems more genuine.

And that's what I think this story is lacking. While this story is technically sound, and contains depth of thought, it doesn't contain depth of communication, and that means I can't really get behind it. If you tell me flat out that 'humans have no individual value', I just can't agree.

Sure, your character acts in ways that re-enforces his belief in what he says. However, by coming out and saying it straight, you've changed it from an illocutionary act to a locutionary one, and that moves our communication up a level. If I perceived the theme, instead of having it stated, I still might not like it, but I think I'd feel more connected to the story. If this wasn't the theme, or if there was deeper level ideas (worldview) behind that perceived belief, I'd be even less annoyed, because I could say something like 'I can understand how someone with that worldview would reach that belief'; A 'belief' theme supported by 'worldview' ideas, communicated through an illocutionary act, would make this top-tier in my mind. As it is, it's very nicely written, but it's too obvious, too straight-forwards, too direct.

Anyways, that was probably waaay too many words, but maybe I've made myself clear enough anyways.

I hope this is useful or at least interesting to someone. I've considered doing blogs on how I think about stories, and typing this up makes me think I should, if only so I can link it at people. :P

>>Not_A_Hat
Impressive!

I saw Hat’s massive review of this story and figured it had to be next.

So, let’s be up front – this story is basically an author’s tract about death and dying, with a little bit about Jeff and Anne tossed in to give the ideas some grounding. It’s told in the style I like to call Campfire Story, because the narrator relates it as though he’s literally speaking to you – there is no narrative aside from what the author says. This can be an effective storytelling device (it certainly is if you’re around a campfire or in a bar), but it also means you’re surrendering other aspects of storytelling, like dialogue, settings, etc. Even the characterization is minimal: we get names, a few motives, and that’s it.

But this story does do something very well, something that sets it above most other minifics – it invokes an emotion in the reader. It makes the reader ponder their own permanence, and while it does so with fairly crude tools (“Today I’m going to talk about what happens when someone you love suddenly dies.”), it does so effectively. That’s a huge point in its favor.

Well, given Not A Hat's essay above, I'm going to try to be brief and mostly concur with it. This is an author tract that goes so far as to completely break character in its penultimate paragraphs.

I have to completely disagree with Cold in Gardez - I did not find the piece effective at evoking any emotion, other than "Oh, come on." That's the real downside of writing in such a didactic, locutionary style - it's all in on emotional manipulation, and going to completely flop if the reader doesn't already agree with whatever philosophy is being dictated to them, or simply doesn't care for such overt heartstring-tugging.

As to placement... linking back to some things I already wrote on another story: >>Ranmilia
I can't give much credit just for picking an inherently emotionally charged theme and then coasting on that choice of topic, even if the piece explicitly leans into doing exactly that. So I'm afraid this is going to be quite low in my rankings.

Apologies to the author if I'm coming off harshly, here. Thank you for writing! The technical side of the piece is fine, it does accomplish its aims within the mini limits and I totally get why it's tempting to go for such an idea when you have one day and 400-750 to work with. I do think the concept for the actual story bits bears some potential if not written in this style. Maybe set it from Jeff or even Anne's perspective, do more with the hard drive=human memories metaphor, keep "Show, Don't Tell" in mind and think about how to convey the ideas and emotions to an audience that might not already be sympathetic to them. That last bit is the hard part.

I can’t really bash this story. Lands mid-slate.

It’s very dark — I am completely at loggerheads with one of its cornerstones, namely the tenet that we are replaceable. This is completely false to facts, since we are all unique. Diversity counts, not similarity. It's from the uniqueness of a single individual that new species arise. It's unique people in space-time that produce ground-breaking theories. What if? What if Einstein died at a young age and another boy received the science book that made him a sucker for it? Etc. So yeah, there’s probably a whole slew of people whose lives won’t matter at present, but you know the butterfly effect, right? Who can tell what the consequences of the slightest event can be in the millennia to come?

Another thing here that put me off is the forced emotional content. It's very gushy and feels imposed. As if you were gunning for wresting tears from our eyes. This is a bit ham-fisted; a more sensible, delicate but touching approach to Alzheimer's was written a few rounds ago (and won, as far as I remember — that story about the girl in a station meeting his father who doesn't recognise her).

However, as I said, I can’t bash your fic: even if it doesn't give the right answers IMHO, it poses a bunch of interesting questions and challenges the reader.

Hrm. .mrH

This doesn't really work for me. The emotional throughline just doesn't resonate with me. I think the narrator's digressions kinda mess with the flow, and I really don't buy the whole "redundancy" angle.

That said, the technicals are solid. Sorry I don't have a lot more to offer here, but I think all the above posters have some real meat for you!