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Each time you think, My god, surely it can't sink lower, there's a new cabinet appointment or tweet, and you plummet down further.

I won't offer simplistic feel-better comfort, given what the US and the world now face in a Donald Trump presidency. I want to focus on resilience.

We're almost THERE, after an interminable campaign that feels as if it began in 1920. This has been such a bizarre election, with insanity spewed at us so heavily and steadily that people are literally sick of it.

Coming into the final election stretch—let's pause to celebrate having survived the debates, halleluiah! I don't know about you, but I learned SO much. For instance, the last one taught me something about myself: I am such a nasty woman.

In a normal presidential election year—which this definitely is not—I might criticize my colleagues in the media for insufficiently reporting crucial news stories that don't necessarily bleed, so don't get to lead. For example, newly released Census Bureau annual reports on 2015 told us important news—that there was rapid growth in the incomes of ordinary families—median income rose a remarkable 5.2%—and a substantial decline in the poverty rate, plus a significant further rise in health insurance coverage after 2014 gains. Paul Krugman, the Nobel Award winning economist who writes a column for the New York Times, noted that this was a trifecta we haven't hit since 1999.

Fiction imagines itself across genres: historical fiction, science fiction, realistic fiction, etc. With some subjects the only place you can tell the deep truth is in fiction—and this year's presidential race qualifies. So, the novelist part of me has decided to invent a new genre, ELECTION FICTION, making its debut here. The names have been changed to protect the guilty—although Drumpf actually is the real family name of Donald Trump, changed from the German to Trump by his immigrant grandfather. Everything else, you understand, is pure fiction.

Dear Millennial Voter, For starters, how nonsensical is the label "Millennials" to describe a group of people ranging in age from 18 to 30. Seriously? Still, I have to break through a personal barrier of fear writing this, because of my horror at you maybe thinking I'm that parent or grandparent wheezing "I had to walk 6 miles to school in the snow without shoes so listen to me because I know what you should do." I don't know what you should do—only you can discover that. But I do know it feels really crappy to see people whose intelligence one respects possibly make a mistake one made oneself once. It's like having learned a simple skill or trick and being excited to pass it on so others won't have to learn it all over again in their lives. And that's not just bullshit manipulation. It's how civilization progresses. So I've got to crash through my fear of your disapproval or dismissal, and write to you as frankly as I would to my contemporary adults.