Snapshot – Brandon Sanderson (2017)

Snapshot (2017) by Brandon Sanderson is a speculative science fiction thriller that explores a gritty, noir-tinged future where a unique technology allows detectives to explore perfect recreations of past days—”Snapshots”—to investigate crimes. Though short in length compared to Sanderson’s epic fantasies, this novella packs a full narrative punch, weaving together moral dilemmas, layered characterization, and a chilling mystery. Sanderson, well known for his contributions to series like Mistborn and The Stormlight Archive, flexes his genre-bending prowess here in a standalone tale of justice and reality.

Plot Summary

In a vast underground complex built beneath New Clipperton, a miracle of technology hums to life each day – a perfect reconstruction of a single day from the real world, known simply as a Snapshot. Inside this replica of a city, two men walk among illusions made real, tasked with finding truths hidden in the folds of the past. Anthony Davis, a disgraced former detective, and Chaz, his brash and reckless partner, are the only real people in a metropolis of twenty million artificial lives. Their job is to minimize Deviations while extracting evidence the real world could not reach on its own.

Davis and Chaz begin their assignment with a familiar rhythm, eating burritos, trading sarcasm, and reviewing their objectives. The first case concerns Enrique Estevez, suspected of murdering the mayor’s nephew. The Snapshot has re-created the day of the crime, May 1st, 2018, and the detectives are to observe, gather proof, and leave without altering too much. Deviations – ripple effects from their actions – must be kept low, lest the evidence be inadmissible in the real world.

But Davis is haunted. Every day in the Snapshot brings questions about the people around him – these perfect simulations of real individuals, each with their own fears, hopes, and routines. They look real, talk real, feel real. When Chaz flashes their reality badge, exposing a person as a duplicate, Davis watches their reactions with uneasy fascination. One shopkeeper, after seeing the badge, simply wanders out of his store, lost in the knowledge that he is not real.

They locate Estevez and tail him through the city. Chaz, always eager for action, hopes for a shootout. Davis, more thoughtful, wants answers. When Estevez disposes of the murder weapon – a handgun tossed into a storm drain – they snap photos and relay the location to their real-world liaison, Maria. The weapon will be recovered, and Estevez will be tried. The case, at least, is done.

But Davis delays ending the day. A cryptic mention from a conspiracy forum has planted a seed in his mind – a mysterious event involving squad cars at an abandoned apartment building that never made it into official records. Chaz, always looking for entertainment, is convinced they’ll find nothing more than a politician hiding a mistress. Still, they head to Fourth Avenue.

The apartment building is silent, its walls sagging under graffiti and time. They break inside and descend into the basement. There, in a pool still half-full with dank water, the light from Davis’s flashlight reveals corpses. Eight bodies lie submerged – young, pale, preserved. Shock and fury rise in Chaz. The murders are fresh, yet no one has told them. They return to street level, and minutes later, squad cars arrive in response to a call from the building’s supposed realtors.

Something is wrong. The precinct has silenced this. Davis and Chaz decide to push deeper, turning to the only place where information can’t be denied – the Snapshot version of their own precinct. Upon entering, Chaz immediately announces their presence with theatrical glee, flashing his badge and throwing the simulated officers into chaos. Some stare in stunned silence, others flee or break down. They seek out the Snapshot version of Maria, their link to classified precinct data.

Maria resists, claiming protocol. Then Chief Roberts arrives, sees the badge, and promptly retreats to his office to end his simulated life with a gunshot. The devastation leaves the precinct shaken. Maria, now subdued, finally reveals what they weren’t supposed to see – the eight bodies in the pool match the pattern of a serial killer the real precinct has dubbed the Photographer. His victims are always carefully preserved, their times of death obscured, their remains dumped in the ocean. This time, something went wrong. The killer hadn’t yet disposed of them. This was a chance to catch him.

Davis insists she tell them everything. She refuses. Chaz, unrepentant, shoots her. She slumps, lifeless, against her desk. Davis is horrified. But Maria’s database yields more than just case details. Chaz pulls up their personnel files, revealing what their colleagues truly think of them. Davis’s file is riddled with quiet disappointment. Chaz’s is a parade of red flags – aggression, recklessness, lack of empathy – all leading to his assignment to the Snapshots, where his destructive tendencies could do no lasting harm.

They leave the precinct, determined to stop the Photographer themselves. Davis pieces together a theory. The apartment with the corpses was not just an unlucky find – it was protection. Gang tags on the building indicate it’s under control of the Primeros, a local street gang. Someone in the gang allowed the killer to use the site. Davis and Chaz track down a young dealer and, through feigned drug purchases and psychological bluffing, convince him to take them to his boss – the narco who manages the area.

The gang leader listens. He admits to protecting a client who pays well to be left alone in the building. In return, the gang clears the place out and ensures no one stumbles in. It is an unspoken arrangement. Davis and Chaz press further, obtaining the client’s name, a delivery schedule, and a photograph.

As they prepare for the day’s final assignment – a domestic dispute they no longer care about – Davis remembers the second Snapshot scheduled for that evening, on Warsaw Street at 20:17. This, he realizes, is his real reason for staying. He’s used the loopholes in the Snapshot system to visit the address where his ex-wife now lives with their son. In the Snapshot, Davis can stand outside and watch, unseen, as his child lives a life from which he has been cut off. It’s a violation of protocol. It’s also the only connection he has left.

Chaz doesn’t understand. But he doesn’t protest. Instead, he asks if Davis is satisfied with what they’ve done – if they’ve proven they can still make a difference. Davis looks up at the fading digital sky and considers the lives they saved, even if they weren’t real. The truth, the justice, the emotion – those were real enough.

In the end, he steps into the shadows of a perfect lie to glimpse the only piece of truth that still matters to him. The Snapshot fades around them, and the day is gone.

Main Characters

• Detective Anthony Davis – A weary and principled former detective relegated to Snapshot duty. Davis wrestles with deep guilt and disillusionment, haunted by his perceived failures in the real world. His moral compass remains stubbornly intact as he navigates the blurred ethics of policing a simulated reality. Davis is driven by a longing for purpose and a need to protect what little connection he still has to the real world—particularly his son, Hal.

• Detective Chaz – Davis’s partner and a striking contrast in demeanor, Chaz is brash, flippant, and at times disturbingly callous. His cavalier attitude toward the simulated people—”dupes”—within the Snapshot is a source of both tension and dark comedy. Though appearing reckless and morally lax, Chaz’s loyalty to Davis is evident, and he carries his own hidden burdens beneath the bravado.

• Maria (Snapshot version and IRL counterpart) – The liaison officer who serves as the detectives’ point of contact with headquarters. Her Snapshot duplicate plays a key role in uncovering the mystery, and her presence highlights the ethical paradoxes involved in manipulating artificially created consciousness. She represents institutional authority and the ambiguities that come with withholding information “for the greater good.”

• The Photographer – An off-screen but menacing presence, this serial killer meticulously stages murders to avoid detection by Snapshot investigators. His methods and motivations underscore the deeper themes of anonymity, control, and manipulation within systems designed for surveillance and justice.

Theme

• Reality vs. Illusion: Central to the novella is the question of what it means to be real. The “dupes” in the Snapshot are indistinguishable from real people, raising profound questions about consciousness, identity, and moral responsibility. The reality badges serve as symbolic demarcations of existential worth, intensifying the tension between authenticity and fabrication.

• Ethics of Surveillance and Justice: The Snapshot Project blurs the line between observation and interference. Davis and Chaz must tread carefully to avoid creating “Deviations” in the simulated timeline, yet their mere presence alters events. The narrative probes the moral consequences of law enforcement wielding such omniscient power.

• Redemption and Purpose: Davis’s arc revolves around his desire to reclaim meaning in his work and personal life. His growing empathy toward dupes and his pursuit of justice in a world designed to be disposable reflect a deeper search for redemption. Snapshot duty, initially a demotion, becomes his crucible of conscience.

• Power and Responsibility: In a realm where two real men walk among artificial lives with total authority, Sanderson explores how different personalities wield power. Chaz sees the Snapshot as a sandbox; Davis, a second chance. Their dynamic reveals the complexities of unchecked power and the imperative of ethical restraint.

Writing Style and Tone

Sanderson departs from the expansive world-building and mythopoeic structure of his usual fantasy novels to embrace a taut, noir-inspired tone. The narrative is brisk, laced with dry humor, hard-boiled dialogue, and a pervasive sense of unease. It’s as though Raymond Chandler were writing inside a digital simulation, with Sanderson layering existential quandaries over procedural beats.

The prose is tightly controlled, with crisp, economic sentences that heighten the sense of immediacy. Dialogue between Davis and Chaz is particularly effective—sharp, often funny, and laced with philosophical undercurrents. Sanderson subtly injects emotional resonance through Davis’s introspective moments, crafting a character-driven tale that doesn’t sacrifice momentum for depth.

The tone oscillates between wry cynicism and poignant reflection, mirroring the thematic tension between fabricated facades and emotional authenticity. While the novella unfolds in a technological dystopia, its emotional truths are deeply human, grounding the speculative in the universal.