WAKING SOME moments during last night’s moonlight, it hit me that I had been writing this stuff for nine years. Amazing.
When you don’t have a job, it’s a good way to give yourself one, even if the salary is nonexistent. And if you live on a mountaintop in the middle of Mexico, it’s a good way to interact with people. I interact with people better online than I do in person, but that’s another issue. In another era, I might have been institutionalized.
So I started just five years after moving south, and now I’ve been down here 14 years. After moving over the Rio Bravo, I spent two years wife-hunting, and that turned out spectacularly well. Then there was almost a year building the Hacienda and getting settled in.
I chilled out about two years more until I noticed Blogger.com and got started. My first website was called a variety of names similar to The Zapata Tales until I settled on The Zapata Tales. People thought I was really nice, and said so.
A lot. They were charmed.
But I always had a bleak side, and it finally came out when I started a second website calledThe Bierce Account. I used The Bierce Account* to do grimmer stuff. It was fun. The two websites were a split personality.
The Bierce Account could be about anything, but The Zapata Tales was about my life in Mexico. By 2011, I was weary with writing about my life in Mexico because I had been here quite a spell, and the newness had worn off. It was time for new adventures.
I deleted The Bierce Account entirely, and I took The Zapata Tales offline. It’s still floating out there, hidden. And I started this thing that you are reading, The Unseen Moon, which is fact, fiction and opinion stirred in an odd pot.
I prefer the fiction posts** by far, but they don’t come to me so often, so I’m stuck more with fact and opinion. Some people agree with my sharp opinions. Some do not, and get angry. I wish they wouldn’t, but it’s today’s world. Everybody’s in such a dither.
Often I feel I’ve run out of stuff to write, but a few days pass and something shows up. It likely will continue until I die, or somewhere near that date.
For the 10th anniversary next year, maybe I’ll throw a party. Bring gifts.
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* Named after the notoriously cranky, Gringo writer Ambroise Bierce who vanished in Mexico during the 1910 Revolution.
** Examples abound in The Pearls of Zapata.