Tweet Ever notice on the days you hem and haw over an article, your head suffers and your writing suffers too? And the pieces you don’t sweat to pieces are your best ones? Weird how that works isn’t it? I find it amazing that the weather is less consistent than this extraordinary fact. I could spend hours, days, weeks pouring out my soul to molding ideas into words and words into a story. I put it aside. Unhappy with it, I rework again. And again. And again. And when it’s finished I’m shaking silly, drained, brainless.  Then I offer it on…