[Disclaimer] This article is not legal advice, and exists purely for informational purposes. Don’t break the law – that’s illegal.
- Introduction
- Who is this series for?
- Software
- Hardware
- Wait, didn’t Beth’s original article say this would take a week? It’s been a month.
Introduction
“On the internet, nothing ever disappears.”
I was six the first time my dad told me that. Young, I know, to be discussing the internet, but it was a part of my childhood. I got onto the internet before I could really read, had a computer in my bedroom before I finished kindergarten. Not a phone, not an iPad. It was a proper desktop computer, built into the chassis of a late nineties office PC with an old intel Core 2 Duo and some graphics card I never learned the name of.
He wasn’t wrong when he told me that: not then in the halcyon days of the mid to late 2000s when the recession first tore into our world, nor is he wrong today. Putting yourself on the internet, whatever that means, whatever that looks like, is to fundamentally give up control of your actions and statements. A Facebook post you made back in high school could be dug up ten years later, and used to justify you not receiving a job offer.
But he also was wrong, more wrong than anyone could have imagined. You couldn’t delete things off the internet, no, but that didn’t mean they didn’t vanish. The internet, as all consuming as it was and is today, is also fragile. Books are delisted from online platforms, blog posts get taken down, and sometimes entire sites just… disappear.
Not the sites you use everyday. Twitter and Facebook aren’t going anywhere (or will they?), but what about the rest of the internet? What about your childhood best friend’s blog, or a recipe you saw in an old YouTube video? Maybe you remember the link, maybe you even have them bookmarked, but when you type it into your search browser, you get nothing but an error message, or a site domain now up for sale.
The reality is, the internet is not some cohesive, united whole. Each website is hosted somewhere on a physical server, and when those servers are taken down, when the customer no longer pays their bill, when the files become corrupted or are deleted—
It’s gone.
And this is the internet running normally. Running largely without direct government intervention, without political pressure pushing certain sites and web domains to limit or remove certain types of content from their server. This is the internet at its best.
We cannot assume it will stay this way.
My name, more or less, is Nobleheroine. Beth called me Aly, but you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t mention my full name. My dad taught me a few other lessons, and, well, I haven’t found reason to ignore them quite yet.
A little while ago, Beth wrote an article discussing the importance of creating and protecting a trans microlibrary. She spoke to the imminent threat trans literature currently faces, and how we, as a community, need to band together in order to protect our history.
It’s an excellent piece of work, and if you haven’t read it, I suggest you do so right away. She’s an incredible writer, and explained the issue better than I could even.
However, and while I say this with love, she is not particularly tech savvy.
And a degree of tech savviness is necessary, if we want this project to succeed. Trans literature extends far beyond physical printed books of the kind you can find in a bookstore or local library. Trans literature exists across the entire internet, from Scribblehub to Patreon to YouTube. It exists as words, as videos and games and comics, as whispered ASMR monologues and smutty RPG maker games.
It exists as data.
And data is a rather complicated thing to preserve.
Complicated, but not impossible.
Not with help.
Who is this series for?
Let’s get one thing out of the way first — I’m not a data storage expert.
I’m really, really not. I have no training in the field, no real experience. The file system on my laptop would likely give any real archival expert a heart attack.
If you are one of those experts — or even if you’re someone who has experience preserving their data, who does regular offline backups — this article is not for you. It is not focused on the question of true archival work, of how to make our increasingly digital world last beyond the current decade.
I certainly won’t be discussing magnetic tape.
This series is intended for those who have been inspired by Beth’s work, for those who wish to do whatever they can to ensure their favorite little eggfics will survive whatever comes next, but don’t know where to start, what to even do.
Backing up and saving data can be complicated. There’s more to it than simply downloading files, especially if said files aren’t available to be downloaded in the first place.
In this series, I’ll explore two critical aspects of data backup. The software side, such as file types, DRM, and the actual software you may be using, and hardware, such as external SSDs, hard drives, or flash drives. I’ll explain some of the terminology, provide clear and straightforward guidance on what, exactly, you’ll want to do, as well as cover general best practices for data preservation and protection.
In this article, I’ll start on some of the basic terminology and best practices. If you’re familiar with PC tech, and especially if you’re familiar with computer backups, you’ll likely know most of this already, but it’s useful for those who aren’t. I’ll also discuss a few basic principles about data archival that are specific for this area.
Let’s begin.
Software
Let me clear up one thing first. When I say “software”, I don’t mean the actual programs or apps you’ll use in order to do backups. There’s a lot of different software options out there, for every step of the process we’re about to discuss, and I will make suggestions as appropriate, but by and large, it really doesn’t matter what software you use.
What I’m going to discuss, primarily, is what type of files you’re going to be downloading and storing.
Knowing this, ideally before you start, is critical, because file type will determine how much storage space you’ll need. It’ll inform choices on different types of drives, and what tools you’ll need to get the data in the first place.
File types also matter in regards to compatibility. One of the somewhat “hidden” problems in backing up data is ensuring that the data can still be read when you go back to it. This may not seem like a big deal, so let me offer you a hypothetical to clarify what I mean.
Look at your own files, at an excel spreadsheet, maybe. Now, imagine if you woke up tomorrow, and all the spreadsheet software in the entire world vanished. It didn’t exist anymore. Can you still open the file?
I know this may seem like an absurd example, but it’s something that stymies archivists every day. There’s a lot of data out there that’s nearly inaccessible, simply because the program needed to open it stopped being updated, or doesn’t run on available hardware.
To be fair, this is less of an issue in the modern day, given the focus on backwards compatibly in most modern operating systems, but it is still something to keep in mind, as not every file will open on every machine you try to open it on.
And of course, there’s another complication.
The Drama of DRM
(If you know what Denovo is you can probably skip this section)
One of the ongoing headaches surrounding data archival is the use of Digital Rights Management software, or DRM. It’s a term that refers to a wide, wide array of software, all of which is used to restrict and limit your ability, as an end user (aka you, the ultimate and final user of the software, but not the owner), to modify and copy certain forms of data.
You’re likely familiar with DRM, even if you don’t necessarily know what it is. If you’ve ever wondered why you couldn’t copy and paste books on and off your Kindle, or transfer a game you downloaded off Steam to a different user, you’ve interacted with at least one form of DRM, and likely felt at least some of its restrictions.
DRM tends to do one (or both) of two things. Either it restricts your ability to manipulate data, such as preventing you from accessing the location where it’s stored on your device, or preventing any attempt to copy it, or it forces the use of specific software to access it.
Obviously, this makes it rather difficult to create a backup.
There’s two ways to manage DRM. The best is to avoid it entirely, something I’ll explain in detail when I discuss the specific file types. This is the safest, and the most unquestionably legal.
If that’s not an option, it’s always possible to work around DRM. This is results in something referred to as a “cracked” copy, and it’s…
Let’s just say it’s a legal grey area.
Generally, it is not illegal to crack the DRM of software you own for the sake of making copies. This is why, most of the time, you don’t own any of the media you buy—you’re paying for a license (which hasn’t always gone corporations’ way in court). Regardless of whether it’s legal or simply not worth the trouble, making modifications to software or data you already own probably won’t cause you any problems. Sharing that data, however, or downloading a cracked copy…
That’s another kettle of fish, and a choice I, legally, have to recommend against.
One final note — the goal of this project is to preserve trans media by trans authors. As Beth mentioned in her article, that means a lot of the authors of these works could really use the income.
Keep that in mind.
Regarding Legality–the Difference Between Open Source and Free
Before we move into hardware, Beth reminded me that there may be a few pieces of terminology worth clarifying.
If you’re already at least a little familiar with the endless battle against Big Tech, you may have heard of “Open Source” software. You’ve likely used open source software – in fact, I can almost guarantee it.
It may not, however, be immediately clear what software counts as “open source.” Open source is a term that can be thrown around in a context that obscures its actual meaning. Open source software is often thought of as free software, owned by no one. Software that you can use and modify and copy, without care or concern as to what anyone thinks!
This is not true. There is no such thing as open source software, because “open source” refers only to code.
Software, defined in simple terms, is a bundle of coding, art, text, and other programs, all designed to do a specific thing. Software is made primarily of code – languages like Python, Java, C+, Ruby – but not only code. How that code was composed, produced, and distributed matters just as much as the code itself.
That software is owned by someone. When you make use of that software, in nearly every case under the sun, you are licensing that software from the owner for your limited and specific use (this is the EULA – or the End User License Agreement – that you’ve likely skimmed more times than you can remember).
Code is considered open source when said code is made freely and publicly available. People can look at that code, they can copy it, and they can do whatever they want with it–but that doesn’t automatically mean the software they make with said code is open source. It can be, but it often isn’t.
As an example, Android is an open source operating system. But you better believe Google has oodles of EULAs for everyone who makes use of it.
(And that’s not getting into copyright, trademark, and patent laws, because I am #NotALawyer)
That doesn’t mean software can’t be made free and publicly accessible. It’s just not the same as being open source. The software can be released to the public domain – in which case, it has zero restrictions (this is rare). Often, it’s released under the GNU license – a “copyleft” license, designed specifically to ensure your freedoms, as the end user, rather than to restrict them, or, more rarely, a Creative Commons license, which does the exact same thing but is more used for creative projects.
Other than affordability, the differences between these terms is largely academic, at least for our purposes. Using software for personal, non-commercial purposes is the safest way to use software, minimizing risk of legal liability. However, especially as we venture into the more esoteric realms of data archival, you may want to become more familiar with the specifics of these various licenses and limitations. The scope of that discussion goes beyond this paper, but the links above will be useful for understanding the “copyleft” licenses.
For EULAs, copyright, patents, and all other legal terms, I recommend a professional.
Seriously, this is moving out of my wheelhouse a bit.
Hardware
The problem with hardware, when it comes to the layperson, is that a great deal of how it works has been largely obfuscated.
I’ve already mentioned one important element of hardware, when it comes to data archival — compatibility. Ensuring that a file you save will still be readable years down the line is a crucial consideration, but, to be honest, less so in the modern era. The early days of computing were defined by dozens of different operating systems, file types, and even different storage mediums. Interoperability was never seen as a major priority, and incompatibility was something of a selling point, at least from the view of computer manufacturers. However, modern hardware has, to a large extent, homogenized, and most files you save will likely be compatible with any device you choose to open them on. Provided that device is general purpose enough to engage in some degree of flexibility, of course.
What I’m going to be discussing in this series is less the actual computing hardware, and more the storage medium. Storing data is a huge consideration with a massive industry behind it, and there isn’t always an easy solution. Simply storing data on your phone or computer, while simple, is rarely enough. Data can be lost or corrupted, devices destroyed in a flood or fire — or, if the situation grows dire enough, taken by police or vigilante forces.
(This is, of course, only a small sample of how data might be lost on an active system. Ransomware, power surges, losing the darn thing — all of these are also equally capable of destroying your beloved media, and a fair bit more likely)
So, to be blunt, you need an offline backup. Offline, in this case, means not only not connected to the internet (although for the record, that is generally a good idea) but simply not powered the majority of the time. Not connected to a computer, or a power outlet. Not used.
That’s critical. Most storage types all undergo wear and tear as they’re used. This is why hard drives and SSDs fail, why USB sticks eventually stop working, why you can only write to a DVD so many times before it stops accepting new data. This use occurs whenever data is accessed — but most especially when it is written — to storage, and is why the drives in your computer have far less life than the drive connected via USB.
In the course of this series, I’ll be discussing what types of storage are the best, which ones you should avoid, and where to spend your money—if you have any to spend. However, I want to make one thing clear — and this applies to both hardware and software.
It is better to do something imperfectly than to not do it at all.
I will be discussing how best to store books and movies and music, in a way that will ensure they’ll last as long as possible. I’ll discuss different file formats, different sources, different ways of finding media. However, the most important lesson to learn is to do something.
If you have a flash drive lying around, if you have old DVD-RWs, or an external hard drive you’ve never gotten around to using — use it now. Dump all the files you want to keep on there, make a copy if you can, but do it as soon as you can.
This series will mainly be discussing long term viability, how to ensure your data remains with you for years and years — but it is also important to make sure it’s still there tomorrow.
Do what you can, and we’ll work out the rest as we go.
A Note on Physical Media
The final topic I want to discuss in this introductory article is physical media.
Obviously, we’ve mostly been discussing digital media. Literature and art that only exists as data on a hard drive or the cloud. Data archival is a complicated, messy subject, and you might walk away from this article with the impression that data is an ephemeral thing, existing only with the constant help of complicated technology.
A book, made from paper, is not ephemeral. You can hold it in your hand, it has no DRM, no incompatible file formats, no need for electricity — it simply is.
It’s not indestructible, no. If your house burns down, or is flooded, or you get locked out because your landlord decided he needed another bedroom, you may very well lose the book. But none of those things can happen remotely. An angry hacker from across the world can’t install malware on your book and lock it behind an encrypted shield. The government cannot (easily) snoop on your bookshelf, using automated search tools to look for any salacious materials.
And, perhaps most critically, buying physical media tends to put a decent bit of cash in the creators pocket. A useful thing for a trans person, especially in this day and time.
A properly stored book will outlast your life, and likely the lives of your children. A pressed DVD or Blu-Ray — one you bought in a jewel case, produced in a factory — will be readable almost forever, so long as it’s kept in good condition. An old VHS recording or music tape — while vulnerable to magnetic fields — are also remarkably durable, compared to the seeming inevitable loss of any digital file.
If the media you wish to preserve has a physical copy, and you have the means to purchase it, I would recommend it above any other form of preservation. There is simply no way for data archival to compare, especially not with the methods I’ll be describing.
Of course, the reality is, this isn’t feasible for a great many works. A great deal of trans literature doesn’t have physical releases, or they’re in a format where creating a physical copy simply isn’t possible. Therefore, data archival remains an important element of preserving trans literature, regardless of its downsides.
Of course, if you have the file, such as EPUB, it’s completely possible to print it out and create your own, large and somewhat unwieldy, but usable physical copy of someone’s fanfiction or eggfic.
And after that, you can tell me the elaborate printer salesperson con you pulled off to get that much toner.
Wait, didn’t Beth’s original article say this would take a week? It’s been a month.
I have ADHD and I got anxious, so I did anxiety procrastination.
I’m a trans girl who likes computers, did you think I wasn’t neurodivergent?
NobleHeroine is an editor for The Transfeminine Review, the author of magical girl web-serial Ravenous Magics (which you can find on her Scribblehub page), and a commensurate fanfictionista. You can follow her work on Bluesky. She lives in BC, Canada, and these days you can find her deep in the Scrivener mines.
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