Build an Archive of Fragments & Fascinations 🗃️

a Process Window 🪟 into how this month's essay came together

The Webs We Weave is a place for meaning-makers, featuring essays that weave lived experience with fascinations and sharp-toothed questions as I tangle with what kind of woman I want to be. Thank you for being here.

As someone who’s insatiably nosy about other people’s processes, I use these Process Window posts to share a glimpse into how my monthly essays actually come together—whether it’s a closer look at craft, the process of discovery and construction, or some aspect of the overlap.

This month’s essay is getting closer to the finish line, I hope to have it in your inbox next week! In the meantime, enjoy this peek behind the curtain.

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These days I attend lots of great writing workshops, which means I find myself generating lots of little scraps of writing that I don’t always know what to do with.

Back in January, I went to a phenomenal workshop with Negesti Kaudo on Writing the Body and one of her prompts helped me unearth a memory from my early 20’s—of attracting unwanted attention in a skeevy club with my much older ex. I remember glowing uncomfortably in the low light in my cream colored mini dress, feeling just a little too visible.

I wrote into the memory and left the workshop with a few paragraphs of decent prose, which I continued refining for a few weeks until it felt complete-ish. A little standalone vignette, with no home.

Meanwhile, something about that memory of glowing in the bar’s dark light got me obsessing thinking about bioluminescent creatures in the deep ocean. 🦑 I jotted down a few notes about bioluminescence—the images that came to mind, a list of creatures I want to research, some unanswered questions about why they glow—and tossed it into my virtual pile of writing scraps.

Together, those two felt like they could be something.

I started a fresh essay draft and pasted in my scene about the nightclub plus my notes on bioluminescence. I could see connections emerging—they felt related, but somehow incomplete.

The draft had heat, but never quite caught fire. So I let it rest.

Jump cut to last month, when I spent a week at a writing retreat in Wyoming with eleven other women. I brought home beautiful memories of horseback rides through sagebrush and drafting poems in fields of lupine. But the one memory that’s really stayed with me is the night we held an impromptu dance party after dark.

I’ll be honest: I hear “dance party” and cringe a little, picturing forced smiles and high vibes. But this was something different. I keep thinking back to the soft glow of that tent with its bistro lights and sultry playlist, how free I felt to move unencumbered. To be witnessed by that group of women without the pressure of being watched.

It’s been weeks since the plane ride home and I’m still thinking about that feeling, that image. It’s a beautiful memory, yes. But also a missing puzzle piece.

When I put those three pieces of writing next to each other—the dance party, the bar memory, and the research about bioluminescence—something opened up. I had the makings of an essay with real dimension, one that could explore the magic of all-female spaces, why attention feels radically different in different contexts, even my own tendencies to judge attention-seekers while quietly craving the kinds of attention that soothe my ego.

I had something.

✏️ To Try: Build Your Archive of Writing Fragments

Long-form essays rarely come together all at once—at least for me. Instead of trying to sit down and write a layered, meaningful essay from start to finish, what might shift if you tried writing more in fits and starts?

I’ve learned to see every scrap and fragment I write as a potential building block, even if their purpose isn’t clear right away. This approach helps me release the pressure to know exactly why I'm writing about something, what it means, or where it will eventually live—and just focus on writing what feels interesting, one chunk at a time. By staying patient and present like this, I’ve found the most powerful connections like to emerge when I’m not trying to force them.

Watch the short video below to see exactly how I accumulate and organize these building blocks, or keep reading for an overview.

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🗃️ Three Simple Steps to Start Building Your Archive:

1. Practice Being Ferociously Curious
   Write into your memories, fascinations, and questions without having to know why you’re writing about them, how they fit into your other writing, or what they'll become. Respond to prompts, see what comes through, and trust that there's a reason something felt important or sparkly enough to write about. You don't have to know more than that.

2. Fill Your Archive One Building Block at a Time
   Create a simple system for collecting these fragments—whether that's a folder in your Notes app or Google Drive, a tool like Notion or Tana, or even a physical notebook or filing box. The key is to choose something you'll actually use. Keep it simple, and let things accumulate organically without pressure. You can always add structure later.

3. Be Patient, Let Things Simmer, and See What Emerges
   Over time, start putting fragments in conversation with each other. Play with mixing and matching them, add new pieces to the pile, and notice what topics and themes you keep returning to. Most importantly, trust that the right connections will reveal themselves in due time.

Ideas of Where These Building Blocks Might Originate:

• Writing prompts and exercises (from workshops, books, etc.)

• Random observations or insights that strike you (capture them ASAP!)

• Memories that suddenly feel close to the surface

• Interesting images, facts, or topics that catch your attention for literally any reason

• Questions you keep thinking about

Give it a try, and watch what happens when these fragments start to accumulate—you might be surprised by what wants to come together.

Finally, I’d love to know:

What fragments are sitting in your drafts folder right now? What connections do you see between them?

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Twelve Facts About Lungs

Collecting Inspiration & Examples of Great Writing