As I write this, I’m about 40 pages away from the end of The Shadows by Alex North — but I already know how it’s all going to go down because I read the spoilers.
I do that a lot. I’m the friend who will spoil something for you if you want it, and tease you about what happens (sans-spoilers) by way of sarcastic statements about your observations if you don’t. I’ll also warn you — if you want — about whether you’ll need to get all your snacks now, whether your drink needs a straw (so you don’t spew or spill it everywhere), and/or whether you should grab the tissues.
I’m also the friend who, if I ask for spoilers, expects them in tiers. Don’t tease me about it — just slowly spill one thing at a time, and if I want you to keep going, I’ll ask. If you’re the type who absolutely refuses to ever give out spoilers, I don’t like you.
The spoilers mostly help me determine whether to keep consuming a story if I’m worried I’ll dissociate or if co-con is a viable thing, because sometimes we watch TV and read books together as a system — one body, many headmates. They also help me to determine whether it’s something I want to spend my time on. Just because we know it’s going to happen doesn’t mean we aren’t going to stick around to see how it plays out. It’s not about trigger warnings.
I don’t care for book recommendations because they’re wayyy too vague.
If you want to suggest a book to me, don’t tell me Book Doe is an amazing read because of whatever vague-ass spiel you’re going to give me to avoid spoiling the whole thing.
If you want me to actually consider reading your suggested book, SPOIL THAT SHIT FOR ME. TELL ME WHO DIES, and that I’ll spend the whole time falling for them. The tragedy isn’t that the main character loses their beloved — it’s that I set myself up for torture, falling for this character even though I know their demise is coming.
I don’t care for abusive fiction tropes, like touch-her-and-I’ll-kill-you (hello, toxic masculinity) and abusive-enemies-to-lovers. I don’t care about the tropes (unless it’s arranged marriages, fake dating, twins, and lesbians in suits).
Contrary to popular opinion, spoilers don’t harm box office revenue. I once knew an entire club of 200+ people who started watching Teen Wolf because of spoilers.
Vague reviews of a popular, recently published novel tell me of a friendship story, but the blurb implies friendship and love combine. No one will tell me if it’s got any hint of GAYNESS TO IT — and for that reason alone, I haven’t bought it.
“You’ll have to read it and find out! ;)”
How about I fucking not and despise your guts? WHY the fuck would I waste my time reading a book JUST to get a fucking simple answer, when it could very well piss me the hell off? Like, you’ve literally pissed me off even more because you think I need the surprise.
One thing to know about me, first and foremost, for ALL OF ETERNITY, is that I. DO. NOT. DO. SURPRISES.
Surprises are selfish, being more about the person giving them than the person receiving them.
Spoilers are my love language.
Forget the popular five love languages — my future wife’s #1 quality is that she loves to spoil the shit out of things.
I’m autistic. I hate surprises. I love being surprised, but only if I know precisely what is going to happen. Non-autistic people, mostly non-neurodivergent people, tell me that that defeats the purpose of surprise, but it doesn’t for me. Because I will know subconsciously, even though I will also likely forget, and then I will be “surprised” but not so surprised that I’m overwhelmed with absolutely anything.
I think that’s the real problem — people want others to be surprised, i.e. overwhelmed with something. But I am already easily overwhelmed.
Life is different when you live in a world that caters to your neurotype.
Life is different when you’re sensitive to sensory input, when you can’t put up with the sensory input of everything.
Life is different when your sensory needs rely heavily on repetition of certain sensory input and little surprise. Amazon Music’s “My Soundtrack” station is not a common music choice of mine — and every other music streaming service with a similar random music rotation craps on my parade, too, which is why I don’t care for them.
I need spoilers so I can make sense of the world.
I spend most of my time in real life situations trying to process the outcome, so removing that barrier for me allows me to enjoy stories more.
My brain is literally not wired for reading between the lines.
I’m autistic. The world does not cater to my neruotype.
The how and why of things fascinate me.
Knowing what is going to happen helps me, someone who had little control over much of her life, remain in control of my well-being.
I’m much more interested in knowing how something is going to unfold rather than knowing what is going to unfold.
Spoiler-loving people I’ve met tend to prefer spoilers because it puts their anxiety at bay. Anxiety is not a major reason for me, but it does help me to enjoy thriller and horror stories when I know precisely what is going to happen. Even though I know something is fiction, it can help relieve fear and worry to know what is going to happen so I can watch how it happens (and even why).
Surprises don’t actually spoil anything, but make you enjoy the story more, according to research.
Common arguments against spoilers point to lack of intelligence and desire to connect emotionally, and I daresay this is ableist because neurodivergence is not referenced one pixel. As I stated above,
I need spoilers so I can make sense of the world around me. I spend most of my time in real life situations trying to process the outcome, so removing that barrier for me allows me to enjoy stories more.
After much consideration, I’ve decided to include spoilers in my blog reviews for two specific reasons:
- Are reviews even actually read? and when they are, all the comments are are typically regarding that which is gauged from the vague information about certain themes and plots. There is little discussion, if any. I don’t understand the point of posting about books if they’re not going to be discussed, sometimes at length, if it could otherwise have happened naturally had plots been shared.
- I want to find my people — that is, the people who love spoilers, find spoilers useful, and understand that spoilers don’t actually spoil anything. I can’t play the vague game of reading and commenting on reviews, and especially of getting book recommendations based off my review for books that don’t have any spoilers. No. Hard pass.
I feel like I have to hold back, and there are plenty of people searching for book/movie/TV show spoilers, anyway.
Reviews containing spoilers will have ✨spoilers✨ in the post title.
How do you feel about spoilers?? (What I really mean is, are spoilers also your love language?!)
Linked up to to the Book Blog Discussion Challenge hosted by Nicole & Shannon.Love this post?
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