Where the Writing Stands Right Now
I’m in a different phase of the work now. For a while, what I needed most was to get things out of my head and onto the page. A lot of that material had been building for years—some of it since I was a kid—and it needed release before it could be understood. Now the…
Learning the Rhythm of the New Room
This is the new room. Not finished. Not optimized. Just honest enough to work in. It’s where the desk lives now. Where the drums sit close enough to matter. Where I can make noise—literal and otherwise—without worrying about shared walls or quiet hours. A house instead of a condo. More air. More room to think…
On Change, Catastrophe, and Balance
For a long time, I believed that change meant death—or at least the possibility of it. Not metaphorical death. Not ego death. Real, physical, catastrophic endings. That belief didn’t come from nowhere. It came from impact. From accidents. From moments where the world didn’t just shift, but hit. The waterfall incident. My teeth. A baseball…
Frank M. Anderson's Writing 