Since moving to England, I've realized that the majority of my friends are online rather than in real life form.  Even before moving, I only bothered with a handful of people because that's the sort of thing that happens as you move beyond University and onwards toward the sunset.  You recover from your extrovertedment (that's a word, don't argue) and find the good people.  And you horde them.

Also, since I started writing novels with the idea of future publication, I have become a hermit.  I have lost all people skills of the real life friend-making kind.  I barely can hold a conversation with the petrol station attendant.  Simple questions like, "What number?" stump me while the patrons in the queue behind me grumble.  I rather like holding up the line, actually.  Grumpy people tickle me.  Not mean people or bullies, mind you.  Just the grumps.  (See why I don't have friends?)

Anyway, I decided it was a good idea that I get out and socialize with real life people.  So I joined a local writing group--The Stortford Scribblers.  This past week, one of the Scribblers in the group made a comment that he was disgusted by people who read the last chapter of a book, essentially spoiling the ending, before reading the rest. 

"I do that!" I blurted out. 

Then every single Scribbler looked at me with suspicion.

"Well, not all the time," I clarified, ready to just go back to my online friends and lament to them that those 3-D people are really scary.

In fact, I haven't spoiled a book for myself in a really long time.  But if a book's not hooking me, I will skim through just so I know what happens.  I've always been a fast reader so rarely do I have a DNF.  Furthermore, I re-read books a lot and enjoy them much more the second time around because I can take my time.  I already know what happens. 

But this past week I read a book that I'm SO glad I didn't spoil for myself.  UNDONE by Cat Clarke.  It was really necessary not to know the ending.  And possibly I didn't even try to find out because the author gave me a false set-up from the beginning.  I thought I knew how it was going to turn out because the main character tells me.  I am so naïve.  Even as I got to the end, I thought, "Surely not."  And I'm still wondering, "Did that actually happen?"


I really appreciate the mechanics of this story--the pure delight of an unreliable narrator.  It might have even changed my Spoilery ways. 

What about you?  How do you feel about spoilers?  What books have you read that you "wish you could read again for the first time" and recapture that feeling of wonder?