There are some people who love to be kept in suspense. Whether it’s as tame as taking a chance and deciding to serve guests a recipe you’ve never made before, not knowing how it will turn out; as adrenaline-fueled as daring to take on the very next wave that rises up, sight unseen, not knowing if you’ll get to shore in one piece; or somewhere in between – e.g., “let’s just keep throwing away those jury-duty summonses and see how that turns out,” not knowing if the proverbial verdict will be in your favor.

Me, not so much. The recipe? I’d try it on B. first. The wave – well, you won’t catch me anywhere near the deep blue sea anyway. And the jury-duty stuff? I’m the one filling out the requisite form and responding immediately, well before the “reply by” date. What can I say? In my life, the less suspense the better. Yes, that may make for a less exciting time of it, but I’m a firm believer that “uneventful” can often be highly underrated.

But (and here’s a big one). I want suspense when it comes to finding out the endings to books, to movies, to TV shows, to theater. I don’t want to know what happens until I read it or see it for myself – and I draw the line at people who spill the beans. In my imagination, there’s a special circle in entertainment hell for these oversharers (no, not fire and brimstone, certainly, but obstructed-view seats to any screening and only dog-eared, coffee-stained copies of books to read in the afterlife). In short, please don’t take away my joy of discovery. To wit:

Just yesterday afternoon, as I was browsing online for books, I found one that I thought I would really enjoy. The description was captivating; the other-people-who-bought-this-book-also-bought-this-book selections were ones I’ve read and enjoyed; and the cover art was intriguing (I know, I know, you can’t judge and all that, but it draws my eye and my instincts are usually pretty good).

I checked the number-of-stars ratings and those were impressive. The book went into my cart. And then I made the mistake of looking at individual readers’ reviews. And here’s where the problem came in. While a good number of the reviews were harmlessly descriptive, giving away no more of the plot than in the book listing itself, it didn’t take long for me to come upon one where the reviewer felt compelled to share all the secrets the book had to offer.

She wrote about how touching it was to read how the other characters supported the main character as he dealt with [big shocker in the storyline], how she never saw [pivotal plot point] coming, and how thrilled she was that the novel ended with the unexpected twist of [go ahead, just give the whole thing away]. Sheesh. One click and the book was out of my cart. And I was out of sorts.

Imagine if you knew how Psycho ended before having the chance to see it and having the wits scared out of you. Or maybe Sophie’s Choice – remember when you discovered what that choice was? (I was reading it while on a commuter train and gasped aloud, grabbing the arm of the person next to me, when I realized it.) And, in one of the best twists I can remember, how about when you watched The Sixth Sense – wouldn’t knowing the unexpected (to say the least) reveal beforehand be a huge letdown? (Feel free to give me credit here for using these classic examples, most of which you are probably familiar with, and still not giving away the big secrets. Yay, me.)

So here’s my point – and a plea to those who just can’t seem to help themselves from oversharing. Observe the spoiler-alert protocol (here’s an idea – maybe even use the words “spoiler alert” to preface your comments). Don’t tell it all and ruin it all for everyone who may yet want to have the reading / viewing experience. Don’t try to be in the know and, as a result, unknowingly (or knowingly) take the air out of everyone else’s balloon. Don’t be a killjoy and kill the suspense for those of us who want to commit to reading the entire novel, sitting through the whole movie, or binging on countless episodes of streaming to find out what happens. Please, please practice safe sharing until you know that everyone within earshot (literal and metaphorical) already knows how it ends.

Share. But don’t share alike.

©2025 Claudia Grossman