Only the files remain

An end-of-the-world — well, end-of-your-world, anyway — short story by Selena Larson.

The premise:

I am here for your story. You died without one, though your voice may have gone silent long before your heart did. Valuable data is distributed among the blurry photos and status updates you left behind. It is my duty to purge it.

I feel for the poor soul who has to wade through my 31 years (so far) of online archives. My browser history alone will be daunting.


In the event of something happening to me

The Bee Gees started a song (not to be confused with a joke) with that line, and it came to me while I was pondering this question: “What happens to all my Web stuff when I shuffle off this mortal coil?”

My first thought, semi-sensibly enough, was to move as much of it as possible over here, where it would presumably flourish. I’m coming up on 11,000 posts in a WordPress-compatible format, and I assume I could export those to a file and import it, probably piecemeal, into That leaves, however, a good 8,000 static pages that can’t make the jump, and I am loath to let them expire when I can’t write a check for the hosting account anymore.

So I’ll have to puzzle over this one for a while.