Well. I'm just not a very hellish writer, I guess. I have a concept: "Hell is a bordertown factory, and there is no individual redemption." But not much else, and two weeks to write it. I wrote a paragraph and wanted to vomit.

I don't like the concept of hell. Because hell is the place where it goes on being like that forever, right? If it doesn't go on like that forever, then it's something else, not hell. But I do like the idea of meeting another anthology deadline. The corollary of the above, by the way, is: "but there is redemption . . . just not individually." As in "don't mourn, organize."

I haven't been reading the Move On email properly and I missed the whole thing yesterday, the emailing, the calling, and I'm not on a team like I should be because I was sick the night of signups. Now I am planning to fix it.

I think, since I have everything, plot, characters, futurific goodness, for the Future Washington, I will write that (and keep plugging on Afterwar and see whether I can actually come up with a viable story for Damned Nation.

Oh, Frank's here. I can ask him about the medical part of the futurific goodness.