<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<rss version="2.0"
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"
	xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/"
	xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/"
	>

<channel>
	<title>Liz Garrigan</title>
	<atom:link href="http://lizgarrigan.com/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>http://lizgarrigan.com</link>
	<description>Editor and Writer</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Fri, 10 May 2013 18:38:08 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<language>en-US</language>
	<sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency>
	<generator>http://wordpress.org/?v=3.5.1</generator>
		<item>
		<title>Sens. Corker and Alexander: the NRA&#8217;s Bitches</title>
		<link>http://lizgarrigan.com/2013/04/23/sens-corker-and-alexander-the-nras-bitches/</link>
		<comments>http://lizgarrigan.com/2013/04/23/sens-corker-and-alexander-the-nras-bitches/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 23 Apr 2013 15:11:53 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lgarrigan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Commentary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2013]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Bob Corker]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[gun vote]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lamar Alexander]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Nashville Scene]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[NRA]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lizgarrigan.com/?p=864</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Liz Garrigan, NASHVILLE SCENE The relationship between the NRA and Sens. Bob Corker and Lamar Alexander is like a bad marriage. They fear a falling out could mean being out on their asses, clothes on the sidewalk, with nothing but herpes and an empty bank account to remember their former bond. Metaphorically speaking.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://lizgarrigan.com/2013/04/23/sens-corker-and-alexander-the-nras-bitches/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Breakout Fiction</title>
		<link>http://lizgarrigan.com/2012/09/24/breakout-fiction/</link>
		<comments>http://lizgarrigan.com/2012/09/24/breakout-fiction/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Sep 2012 15:34:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lgarrigan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Interviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2012]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Chapter 16]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[J.R. Moehringer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sutton]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lizgarrigan.com/?p=851</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Liz Garrigan, CHAPTER 16 J.R. Moehringer has always said he wanted to write a novel, and it’s fitting that his first is a work of historical fiction based on the life of William “Willie” Sutton, as it hangs on reams of fascinating research into the life and career of this American folk hero.
]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://lizgarrigan.com/2012/09/24/breakout-fiction/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>High Praise</title>
		<link>http://lizgarrigan.com/2012/06/01/high-praise/</link>
		<comments>http://lizgarrigan.com/2012/06/01/high-praise/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jun 2012 15:53:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lgarrigan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Interviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[News & Features]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2012]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Hemispheres Magazine]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Paris]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sandra Radvanovsky]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lizgarrigan.com/?p=859</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Liz Garrigan, HEMISPHERES MAGAZINE “Oh, you’ve got to check out that hair behind you,” says Sondra Radvanovsky, over sea bass at L’Avenue. The 'do is indeed a marvel, but it’s not the only dramatic coiffure in this tony lunch spot, attractive both for its proximity to the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées — where Radvanovsky is performing Verdi tonight — and for stylish patrons capable of providing an impromptu lunchtime fashion show.
Radvanovsky certainly gets plenty of opportunity to scope out the locals in fashionable cities. The 43-year-old star of New York’s Metropolitan Opera performed in <em>Cyrano de Bergerac</em> in Madrid last month and will appear in the title role of Puccini’s <em>Tosca</em> in Vienna this month.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://lizgarrigan.com/2012/06/01/high-praise/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Hey Thanks</title>
		<link>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/11/17/hey-thanks/</link>
		<comments>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/11/17/hey-thanks/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 17 Nov 2011 08:49:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lgarrigan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Commentary]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lizgarrigan.com/?p=846</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Liz Garrigan, NASHVILLE SCENE Are you The Great Pumpkin? Santa? Or did one of them send you? Because what you have given journalists is nothing short of wondrous. In fact, you have singlehandedly made me question my professional trajectory. And not just because of that vaguely pretty boy face of yours. (Yeah, baby, you’ve got a little something. Crissy’s not the only one who’s noticed. But take it with a grain of salt: I think Art Garfunkel is hot.) I was once the editor of this newspaper. And I left. Damn it, I left. Then a little time passed, Crissy smiled for 10 months straight, you were elected, and finally, because of some combination of self-destructive political malpractice, constitutional ignorance and tragically (for you) incompetent advisers, your Tennessee Highway Patrol goons went and arrested citizens lawfully expressing their right to protest in a public space. Even richer, they roughed-up and cuffed a baby-faced journalist working honestly and diligently in the freezing cold for really crappy money. And then, praise be, you defended it, claiming something that not one human being or authority on the planet could confirm: that the reporter was publicly intoxicated. From ink-and-Internet-cookie-stained wretches everywhere: Thank you, [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/11/17/hey-thanks/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>It&#8217;s Not Me, It&#8217;s You</title>
		<link>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/09/22/its-not-me-its-you/</link>
		<comments>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/09/22/its-not-me-its-you/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 22 Sep 2011 06:00:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lgarrigan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays & Humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Amazon]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Chapter 16]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sales taxes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Village Voice Bookshop]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lizgarrigan.com/?p=814</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Liz Garrigan, CHAPTER 16 Amazon, we really need to talk. My relationship with you feels like an illicit love affair because, I suppose, it sort of is. I want you, but I hate myself for it. I hide our relationship from many of my friends. There I am late at night, online, practically giggling with delight at what you can do for me. You understand my needs—and happily meet them—and you anticipate my desires, teasing me with what else you can offer that you already know I’ll like. You’ve tricked me into believing you’re a generous partner. It’s a modern courtship—yes, we rely on technology—but there’s an old-fashioned aspect to it, too. As a British friend of mine puts it, “For God’s sake, the goods arrive in the post. How quaint!”]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/09/22/its-not-me-its-you/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Maternal Instincts</title>
		<link>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/08/15/maternal-instincts/</link>
		<comments>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/08/15/maternal-instincts/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 15 Aug 2011 07:40:16 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lgarrigan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Interviews]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lizgarrigan.com/?p=839</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Liz Garrigan, CHAPTER 16 Six years ago, state authorities in Florida investigated a child neglect case so vile and gut-wrenching that even an experienced social worker and a cop found themselves vomiting at the scene. In a small house full of filth, barely clothed and confined to a foul closet, was a profoundly underweight, socially underdeveloped, acutely neglected six-year-old girl named Dani. She had bug bites and scratches on her body, couldn’t speak or play, wasn’t toilet trained, and by all appearances had never been talked to, smiled at, or hugged. She lived in the house—if you could call it living—with her mother and two half-brothers, and she was lucky even to be alive. After her rescue, authorities had little hope that a child so utterly damaged would find a loving home. But they didn’t know Diane and Bernie Lierow, a couple who saw Dani’s photo and felt drawn to adopt her. Nashville author Kay West has written a book about how the Lierows came to welcome Dani into their family. She recently spoke with Chapter 16 by phone about Dani’s Story. Chapter 16: I remember seeing a Pulitzer Prize-winning article by Lane DeGregory in the St. Petersburg Times [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/08/15/maternal-instincts/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Junk Sales, Paris Style</title>
		<link>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/08/09/junk-sales-paris-style/</link>
		<comments>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/08/09/junk-sales-paris-style/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 09 Aug 2011 09:49:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lgarrigan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays & Humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Paris]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Style Blueprint]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[vide grenier]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lizgarrigan.com/?p=805</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Liz Garrigan, STYLE BLUEPRINT Merchandising-ly speaking, I’ve been an utter failure since expatriating to Paris five months ago. One day on the bus, near the Champs-Elysees, I passed Hermes, Chanel, Dior, Louis Vuitton and Yves Saint Laurent, only to wind up home later that day with pink toilet paper—ubiquitous in the markets here, and somehow cheaper than the white stuff—and a pack of off-brand diapers. My fashionable friends were appalled. Another day, desperately in search of a salve that would help heal my lips—cracked and painful from the brutal Paris winter—I came back from the pharmacy with what I was confident would relieve me. When the cream instead burned and irritated, I Googled it and learned that it’s commonly used for jock itch. It has since moved to my husband’s side of the medicine cabinet. Determined to make banana bread one day in my Paris Barbie kitchen, I hit the hypermarché for some flour and wound up with wheat instead of white. Who but maybe the Amish bake with wheat flour? I’ve found unwanted ham (damn jambon!) in my tartine, have purchased potting soil meant only for acid-loving plants when what I needed was “terreau universal” and bungled my [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/08/09/junk-sales-paris-style/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Home is a Long Way From Here</title>
		<link>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/04/01/home-is-a-long-way-from-here/</link>
		<comments>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/04/01/home-is-a-long-way-from-here/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Apr 2011 09:53:56 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lgarrigan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Book Reviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Chapter 16]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Linda Leaming]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Married to Bhutan]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lizgarrigan.com/?p=790</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Liz Garrigan, CHAPTER 16 In a brutal but fabulously entertaining essay in The New York Times, Neil Genzlinger recently argued that the memoir genre is out of control, that the paper mountain of unremarkable narratives by mediocre writers must be stopped, stat. “A moment of silence, please, for the lost art of shutting up,” he writes.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/04/01/home-is-a-long-way-from-here/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Spinout</title>
		<link>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/03/17/spinout/</link>
		<comments>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/03/17/spinout/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 17 Mar 2011 08:52:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lgarrigan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[News & Features]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fairgrounds]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Karl Dean]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Nashville Scene]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lizgarrigan.com/?p=785</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Liz Garrigan, NASHVILLE SCENE There he was, not many months&#8217; distance from civic sainthood in the aftermath of the epic May flood. Rightly or wrongly, even those who&#8217;d heretofore been critics were regarding Karl Dean as virtual mayoral royalty. His administration&#8217;s reaction to a catastrophe that killed at least 10 people in Nashville and created some $2 billion in property damage — and that would take years from which to fully recover — earned him heaping praise and a moratorium on pot shots for a good long spell. Before that, he&#8217;d won overwhelming legislative, if not public, support for the most expensive public project in Tennessee&#8217;s history — the $585 million Music City Center. That debate had been well under way long before Dean sauntered into the courthouse in his oversized Land&#8217;s End loafers. But at a time when new big box convention centers were no longer slam-dunks for major metros, he and his administration would have faced a drubbing if they couldn&#8217;t pull it off. In the end, when the vote arrived, he and a phalanx of monied business interests managed to herd members of a relatively untamed legislative body into the right chute. Praise be to the [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://lizgarrigan.com/2011/03/17/spinout/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Typo-Cast</title>
		<link>http://lizgarrigan.com/2010/10/13/typo-cast/</link>
		<comments>http://lizgarrigan.com/2010/10/13/typo-cast/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 13 Oct 2010 17:55:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lgarrigan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Book Reviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2010]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Benjamin Herson]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Chapter 16]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Jeff Deck]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[The Great Typo Hunt]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lizgarrigan.com/?p=774</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Liz Garrigan, CHAPTER 16 If all you knew about the Typo Eradication Advancement League (TEAL) was its name, you might conjure a group of retired English teachers, and a few of their librarian friends, circa 1960, alternately talking and knitting on the front porch over tea and scones, fretting about that new sign erected downtown—the one by the Department of Transportation. How could anyone think “parallel” is spelled “paralel”? What are we going to do about the insidious decline of our written language, they wonder, outraged in a way that only learned ladies of a certain age can manage.

That’s what you might think.
]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://lizgarrigan.com/2010/10/13/typo-cast/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>
