If I ever travel to Europe, I want to spend a significant amount of time at Erlembaldo’s tomb.  There’s a high likelihood I’d come away from it determined to write a novel inspired by his story, in much the same way Randall Wallace wrote the screenplay for the Mel Gibson movie Braveheart about the historical Scottish patriot William Wallace.
 
The only novel I’ve written to date is, like Wallace’s, inspired by a true story—one that I had previously covered superficially as a reporter.  This first novel gave me some confidence in my ability to invent details I couldn’t possibly have known, which nevertheless conveyed what I felt was the core essence of the main characters and the story.

Also, I’ve already written a song about Erlembaldo.  It’s in a spaghetti-Western style, complete with whistling, guitar themes, and trumpet flourishes.  I felt this was just as appropriate for a modern-day American telling the tale of a bold Italian hero in dark and dangerous times of yore as it was for modern Italians telling tales of bold American bad-asses in the rough-and ready era of the Old West.
 
Curiously, as I was writing this essay, I looked up the author of the Braveheart screenplay, and found that he’s also done some songwriting and singing.  A kindred spirit in yet another way?

But whether I’m able to come up with a decent novel about Erlembaldo or not, I get the distinct feeling that he would approve of at least some of the nonfiction writing I’ve done (and am continuing to do).