My Journey to the Dream That Never Came Through

Of every message Search Console has given me this year, "Crawled, currently not indexed" is the only one that stings. The others are administrative. This one is a verdict, and it took me a while to be willing to read it properly. Here is the distinction that finally made it click. There are four reasons a page of mine was sitting outside Google's index. Three of them are about whether Google can get in. One of them is about whether Google, having got in and read the page, decided it was not worth including. That last one is a judgment about my work, and I had exactly one page carrying it. This post is about that page, and about the difference between a site that is hard to enter and a page that is easy to dismiss. What the label actually means "Crawled, currently not indexed" means Google fetched the page, read it, understood it, and chose not to put it in the index. Not because it could not reach it. Because it decided the page did not add enough to what i...

If you are here because Search Console told you eighteen of your pages are not indexed and the reason it gave was "Redirect error", you are in the right place, and I can save you about six weeks of my life. I ran into this on my own diary, vitaladge.site. Google flagged eighteen posts. The word redirect made me assume a plugin, a broken link, a server rule, something technical I would need help to find. It was none of those. The redirects had all been fixed weeks before. Google was simply reading a very old file card and had not looked at my site since. Here is the whole thing, in the order it actually happened, with the numbers I wrote down. What the message actually says "Redirect error" in the Pages report means one narrow thing: when Google last tried to visit that URL, it was sent somewhere else, or the chain of redirects it followed did not end where Google expected. It is a statement about a past visit, not a statement about your site right now. The repo...

The number I kept not counting It is Friday morning and I finally did the thing I have been avoiding for a week. I sat down and counted how many of my posts Google actually shows to people. Not how many I have published. I know that number, it is 61, and I can tell you the date of nearly every one. I mean how many a stranger typing a search into a phone could actually land on. Fourteen. Fourteen URLs, and because I counted properly instead of stopping at the headline, I checked what those fourteen were. Twelve posts, plus the homepage, plus the About page. Which means the honest answer, the one I have to write down so I cannot pretend I did not see it, is this: twelve of my sixty-one posts exist as far as Google is concerned. Forty-nine of them do not. I have published an entry saying twenty-seven posts had no links pointing at them. That felt like the low point. It was not. Twenty-seven was the symptom. Twelve is the diagnosis. Where most of this has been written. Small town,...

Carletonville, 2 November 2026 There is a number I had been avoiding for two weeks. This morning I finally sat down and counted it properly, on paper, the way I used to check my till when I worked retail. Twenty-seven. That is how many entries in this diary have no link pointing at them from any page Google already trusts. Not badly written. Not thin. Not duplicate. Just published, finished, and floating somewhere with no road leading to it. The map I drew at 1am to work out which of my own pages were orphans. I have spent eleven weeks assuming my problem was the writing. That Google did not trust the words, that the diary sounded too personal, that an AI assistant had made it feel machine-made, that the health-adjacent posts on the store needed more authority before anyone would rank them. I have rewritten introductions. I have added bylines. I have added disclosure lines and dropped a fake reviewer idea before it happened. All of that was useful and none of it was the thin...