The year Adam Lambert didn't win American Idol was when I *almost* threw in the towel on a show I've been watching since Kelly Clarkson took the inaugural title in 2002. I'd grown weary of Simon and Paula's nonsensical banter, and was sick of watching the "underdog" lose out to the country or gospel singers.
Not that there's anything wrong with that. It just wasn't for me.
But then Idol did something genius. They hired Steven Tyler as a judge.
Oh sure, snagging People Magazine's Most Beautiful Woman of the Year Jennifer Lopez wasn't a bad move, either. But unlike J-Lo and the always solid Randy "Dawg" Jackson, Steven vaulted onto the scene with fluffy pink dress shirts, tight leather pants, a mouth that needs to be censored, and a killer smile that quite literally makes my heart skip. The guy is bursting with energy, enthusiasm, and personality.
Indeed, Steven is a character.
I'll also go out on a limb and suggest that while he's no Ian Somerhalder or Kiefer Sutherland, Steven embodies a special kind of sex appeal. And before you go scrunching your nose in disagreement, consider his impressive stage presence. Whether he's flirting with Idol hopefuls (a bit creepy) or slithering across the stage, Steven is a force to be reckoned with.
He's larger than life.
And isn't that what we strive for in fiction? Big stories, big characters, larger than life fiction that encourages - no, demands - readers to turn the page?
Well, that's what I'm working towards, and I'm going to lean on this week's worthy muse avatar for a little help. So go ahead, Steven, walk this way.
PS - I admit, I watched the last season of X-Factor, and though Simon Cowell has toned down his mean-factor, I still struggled with the chemistry between him and Paula Abdul, and was disappointed (but not surprised) by Melanie Amaro's win.
The Book In My Bag Today: Tunnel Vision, Gary Braver