In filmmaking, this is what failure looks like...

A personal essay on eight years of failure, fatherhood at midnight, and why the pain that breaks you can also be the pain that changes everything.

From a dimly lit nursery, rocking my son while he sleeps.

Monday, November 17th

Dear Reader,

Eight years in, and I still feel like an abject failure.

Eight years of toil and nothing to show for it.

Eigh…