A writer dies and due to a bureaucratic snafu in the the afterworld, she is allowed to choose her own fate: heaven or hell for all eternity. Being a very shrewd dead person, she asks St. Peter for a tour of both. The first stop is hell where she sees rows and rows of writers sitting chained to desks in a room as hot as a thousand suns. Fire licks the writer’s fingers as they try to work, demons whip their backs with chains. Your general hell scene.
"Wow, this sucks," quoth the writer. "Let’s see some heaven."
In a moment, they were whisked to heaven and the writer saw rows and rows of writers chained to desks in a room as hot as a thousand suns. Fire licks the writer’s fingers as they try to work, demons whip their backs with chains. It looks and smells even worse than hell.
"What gives, Pete?" the writer asked. "This is worse than hell."
"Yes," St. Peter replied, "but here your work gets published."