So here comes another purging of my guilty conscience…
I’ve been watching it.
My first time ever was last week and I don’t know how it happened, whatever possessed me or why watching these poor people stepping forth and willingly allowing the ever sarcastic Simon Cowell to skewer their sense of self intrigues me…but it does.
At least writers have the safety of phone lines and the written word to hide behind should someone not appreciate their work. And I’m even betting the more famous authors get wined and dined when they’re being let down easy by their agent.
These singers, though?
There they are, taking it in the face from a panel of three who are at times nothing but callous and cruel.
That takes tremendous courage. And I can imagine so does pulling yourself back up from the depths of disillusion after Simon guts and fillets as if you’re the bottom feeder in the bunch.
I’d rather the rejection letter, thanks.