In December 2013, I attended a private event where an Ancient Near East scholar demonstrated a method he had developed for deconstructing certain kinds of mummy masks. He explained that many mummy masks were made with an early form of papier-mâché called cartonnage. Instead of paper as we know it, the material that was molded and shaped was papyrus, an early form of paper made from the leaves of a papyrus plant. However, papyrus was too expensive to justify using it for mummy’s. So a funerary attendant would collect discarded books, letters, and documents—whatever he could find—and use them construct the mask.

The scholar then explained that if a mask could be found from the right location and the right time period, then it might contain fragments of biblical manuscripts. The problem was how to dissolve the adhesive to separate and extract the individual fragments. After much trial and error, he had hit on a solution—a liquid key, of sorts—to unlock the mask. He then went to the pantry where the event was taking place and turned on a camera mounted above the sink that fed video back to the auditorium where I watched the big screen along with more than a hundred other apologists and scholars.

He submerged the mask into what look like bubbles from dishwashing liquid, narrating what was happening as he worked the solution into the mask. After a few moments, he announced something had just come loose, then pulled a hand from the bubbles, an ancient fragment pinched between his fingers. He repositioned it in this palm and identified the text as Coptic. He set it aside to dry, then repeated the process, pulling fragments more quickly as the mask disintegrated.

The mask yielded several dozen fragments, many with writing on them. After letting them dry, the scholars who had watched the demonstration then tried to read and identify each of the texts on the fragments by entering the words they could make out into a database of ancient writings. Full disclosure: out of the entire batch, I could read only one word, which was and. So I didn’t exactly do any heavy-lifting to help move the body of scholarly knowledge forward. By the end of the next day, five fragments from the New Testament had been identified, and one from Jeremiah.

As fascinating as the experience was, I found myself wondering, What would be the craziest thing that could possibly be found inside the mask? At the time, I had no plans to write a novel. But somehow the question was a seed that grew in the dark, given that I didn’t actively pursue it. Years later—quite unexpectedly—I found an answer to the question. And I realized I was sitting on a premise to a novel. The presentation became the first scene in the book that became The Well of the Soul.