What can I do right?

Around once a fortmonth, I travel to Philadelphia to visit my grandmother, my aunt, Abby and new friends. Abby was busy so I spent most of my time listening to my grandmother tell a skewed version of history and arguing with my aunt.

She's great, don't get me wrong. My aunt is like my father in that she is self-righteous, liberal and swears sometimes. She's quiet though. Most of her yelling she does silently with her expressions. She looks at me as if I'd slapped her when I say I want to eat a cheesesteak for breakfast.

We talked about (500) Days of Summer for a while. She argued that Summer acted and spoke respectfully. She did not deceive Tom. It was in his head, he led himself onto fantasy. No pretense, Joel.

I disagreed. I said that she (Summer, not my aunt) did not take into account the feelings of Tom. She should have known.

"'Should' has nothing to do with the equation, Joel.

"I can't believe you think that."

Her and I also discussed a satirical piece of short fiction where a man, about to kills himself, races past the Apocalypse to greet his newborn daughter. The moral of the story that it isn't the end of the world to have a baby. Life goes on.

She said it was disgusting fiction. Ugly.

I mean, she's right. It absolutely is, but that was the point.

But I want to sell it at some point. I don't know. I mentioned an audience and she decried it.

"You have to write for yourself. You can't write for an audience."

Fine. Fine, Aunt. I'll read something pretty and sweet and we'll watch Big Love.

Weekend vacation.