I occasionally like to take stock of my writing projects, just as a form of internal expectations setting and reality check. Here’s how it all stands right now.

First, I don’t know if anyone notices, recognizes or agrees, but I’m very happy with the formats of my websites right now. I was pleased to get off the WordPress platform completely since it inspired lots of weird automated traffic. The static site for my Montaigne work is clean and gives just enough of a taste of the projects to invite book sales. If only they would arrive …

And I like hosting the rest of my writing here on a Ghost blogging platform. It integrates well with my writing software and I like the template for my work. So, I think after way too many adjustments over the years, I’ve finally landed on a platform that suits me.

As for the actual projects, The Dekalog can be difficult work at times, but I’m nearing the end of episode 6, so the conclusion is in sight. Then I can wrap up my Kieslowski journey with examinations of Three Colours White and Red. I can’t wait to get to Red, but I may move quickly through White … in my opinion, it’s Kieslowski’s only unsuccessful film.

I intend to turn the full Kieslowski project into a book after Three Colours is done. I’m not sure if any of my other projects will reach the publication stage. I need to take another pass at all of my Montaigne translations, then figure out what to do for front pieces. Maybe I’ll pull a bit from Essai by Essay for them, maybe I’ll use the Bits & Pieces text in places, I haven’t decided.

The only other project on the table right now that might be worth publishing is, surprisingly, the Stendhal project. After spending a lot of time on it the past week or so, I’m very happy with how it’s turned out. It’s a strange little project, but it holds together surprisingly well.

The one thing that might hold me back is all of the references to the “reader” throughout that project. Here’s the way I think about this phenomenon now:

I have no way of knowing for a fact that the various ways readers present themselves on my site are intentional, random web noise or some kind of accidental mark left by readers trying not to be seen. Ultimately, none of this matters, because even if I knew who was leaving the pings, they are still open to my interpretation.

This process I go through to interpret the noise, assign a narrative to them and then direct the course of my writing based on them is really an exercise in developing my critical voice. I see what I want to see and interpret things based on my determinations.

So if I see a ping and think that piece went too far, I should rewrite it, or this one was good, I should repost it, that has nothing to do with someone else’s opinions, it is all about the ways I return to my writing and reconsider it in new ways.

This isn’t to say I don’t want or need an audience. To the contrary — my long-term effort to pay close attention to these web artifacts speaks to my strong desire for someone to read and react.

However, my wish to know and to hear, to have someone say anything about something I’ve written. Instead, I write lots of pieces for me alone and hope someday, someone has interest in following along.