Trouble Child
art + literary magazine

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An Interview with Gabby Granada

Fletcher Wolfe talked journalism, Carrie Fisher, and happiness with Trouble Child’s developmental officer and nonfiction editor, Gabby Granada.

Fletcher Wolfe: We talked about it a little bit, and I know you’ve talked about it more extensively elsewhere, but how do you think the idea of performing plays a role in your work and life?

Gabby Granada: I was sitting in the State Theatre a couple years ago watching Bo Burnham perform. He asked to turn the house lights up and crouched down on stage and told us, “I think if you can live your life without an audience, you should do it.” I think about that probably too much. I write about it too much too. I’m not convinced it’s possible, to live your life without an audience, but I think it’s worth examining.

FW: Why are you more drawn to journalistic writing?

GG: I think holding a pen and telling the truth, sometimes even exposing it, when it matters most, is courageous and necessary and profound. I kind of loathe the phrase “journalistic writing” because it sounds so sterile, but I don’t have a better alternative. Writing investigative stories, powerful essays, op-eds, exposés—all of it educates and informs people, and that in turn empowers them. There’s nothing like it.

FW: If you could grab dinner with anyone, living or dead, who would it be and why?

GG: Carrie Fisher, or maybe the ghost of Carrie Fisher because I think we’d both get a kick out of that. We’d sit in the corner of a dive bar somewhere, the kind filled with dudes in motor jackets with big bellies and long beards, and we’d hog the free bar nuts and cackle about life. Then, at the end of the night, we’d get matching ass tattoos with one of her infamous last tweets, “G’nite fuck-os!”, and I’d say, “Carrie, where are you going now?” And she’d cackle and say, “To the couch! Heaven and hell don’t exist!”

FW: How do you quantify success for yourself? Do you think success and happiness are the same?

GG: I don’t think I ever conflated success and happiness, but I used to prioritize one way more than the other. Spoiler: it was success. My relationship with happiness is complicated and changing, but it’s a lot different than it used to be. I think when I loosened my tight grip on what success looked like—plot twist!—I got a whole lot happier, and—one more plot twist!—it felt like growth in the right direction.

FW: How do you want to be remembered?

GG: I want to be remembered for my cackle, and I want it to haunt everyone in their sleep.