Folk stories and songs shape culture. What would the United States be without Davy Crocket and Daniel Boone, England without Robin Hood, Scotland without William Wallace, or France without Joan of Arc? They embody the national spirit and provide legends passed down from parents to children through the generations. During my ongoing study of the Waldensians, it’s easy to get bogged down in historical dates, names, and places, but miss the intricacies of daily life.

Every so often in history, it seems everything happened at once. A recent example future historians may evaluate is the rapid downfall of colonial empires from the end of World War II until the 1960’s. Further back was the period of national revolutions beginning with the American Revolutionary War and ending with the Napoleonic Wars. Build Up The most interesting to me, however, is the “explosion” of Bibles in the early modern period.

Did you know the Waldensians had their own translation of the Bible? It was probably translated from an Old Latin version (often called the Vetus Latina, not to be confused with Jerome’s Latin Vulgate) into Old Occitan (also called Romaunt or Provençal over 1,000 years ago. In Heretics of Piedmont and its sequel (whose name is yet to be revealed), I wanted to add a couple places where the Waldensians quoted or read from the Bible in their native tongue.

Part way into writing Heretics of Piedmont I found myself typing the phrase: “after a few minutes.” I paused, shut my eyes, and doubts entered my mind. That wasn’t the first time I had used a phrase like that, but it felt like I should check into it. Heretics of Piedmont is set in the 15th century—1458 to be precise. Did people even think in minutes and seconds then? Did numerical time-of-day exist in the common person’s mind?

Almost twenty-one years ago, Caitlin Mirela entered our lives. Now, that may sound odd to those of you who know her, because her twenty-first birthday was over seven months prior to me writing this post. But there are a few of us out there who remember November 1 just as easily as her March birthday. First, let me step back a few years. In about 1997, my parents chose to begin the foreign adoption journey.

Where I live in Pennsylvania, the old adage of “a pizza shop on every corner” almost applies. Many of the national chains are here (Pizza Hut, Domino’s, Little Caesars, Papa John’s), but local shops flourish even more. Those local shops all serve New York style, and you should expect to hear Italian spoken while they toss the dough. My family loves pizza, to the point of eating it nearly every Friday—in the twelve years Andrea and I have lived in this part of the country, we’ve built plenty of memories around these places too.

The last few pages in Heretics of Piedmont, after the story and epilogue, are acknowledgments. I am very thankful for those who supported me through my first writing journey. You can read those pages for yourself, so I’ll refrain from reiterating them here. I want to give special attention to my wife, Andrea. A few years ago, I remember her asking me a question: “What’s one of your dreams you’d like to see come true.

No … but I imagine that answer lacks sufficient explanation. This article is my opinion based on my education and recent research, yet it’s far from scholarly. I do, however, want to explain my conclusion as one who has thoroughly enjoyed studying about the Waldensians: a historic, dissenting branch of Christianity predating the Protestant Reformation by at least 400 years. They are also the subject of my novel, Heretics of Piedmont, the first part in a series I have titled Witnesses of the Light.

I admit it—I’ve cried during a movie. And it’s hard to say that. I grew up proud of being unemotional; in fact, I would say I’m still pretty restrained. Yet, a few years back as a 30-year-old man, I actually shed a few tears while watching a film. No, it’s worse than that: it was during a documentary—and not the kind you would first imagine. My wife, Andrea, and I were watching BBC’s Planet Earth II.

Have you ever read a story—whether a novel or a children’s book—where you rolled your eyes at the unbelievable? In fantasy and fairy tales, we expect to encounter extraordinary or even absurd characters, people, and settings. That expectation allows you to continue on and enjoy the story despite the fiction. But if we experience a contrived plot or unfactual statement, no matter the genre, we feel cheated and deflated. I would say the genre of Heretics of Piedmont, historical fiction, has a similar but deeper challenge.