The past is not dead. It echoes in every voice we train, every melody we sing, every story we dare to tell.
When people learn that I'm a vocal coach who writes historical fiction, they usually ask the same question: what's the connection?
The answer is simpler than you'd think. Voice is history. Every technique I teach, every vocal pattern I analyze, carries the weight of centuries. The Estill method didn't emerge from nothing — it grew from decades of research into how the human voice has been used across cultures, eras, and traditions.
Writing La Chrétienne de Rome was my way of following that thread further back. To a time when the human voice was the only instrument that mattered — when a whispered prayer in a catacomb could mean the difference between life and death.
Historical fiction lets me explore what interests me most as a vocal coach: the moments when someone decides to use their voice, despite everything. When they choose to sing, to speak, to refuse silence. These are the same moments I witness in my studio every day — just dressed in different centuries.
The research process taught me something I didn't expect. The more I studied ancient Rome, the more I understood my modern students. The fear of being heard hasn't changed in two thousand years. Neither has the courage it takes to overcome it.
I write historical fiction because the past isn't past. It's still resonating. And if you listen carefully — the way a good vocal coach listens — you can hear it in every voice.
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This article was inspired by a book that's available to read right now.