Fans are notorious for, shall we say, extreme enthusiasm in anticipation of new material. It’s a key characteristic, no matter the fandom. Along with that fervor, though, comes a more controversial byproduct: the spoiler.

The Internet really seems to have changed the way we interact with our media of choice. Whether it be film, television, books, or any other format, fans now have near-instantaneous contact with both creators and other fans. Creators, who are still accustomed to the traditional idea that they can control how their stories are presented to their audiences through the specific publicity they sanction, have sometimes had difficulty adjusting to the new realities of cyberfanaticism.

This issue is especially prevalent in visual media, like Doctor Who. Instead of images, potential plot points, and other juicy details coming directly from the production team when and as they see fit, eager fans (or unscrupulous insiders) tend to leak them to social media, where they spread like wildfire. Such spoilers change the intended narrative, and sometimes ruin what were meant to be surprises carefully crafted over as much as months. Thus, as you might expect—and like absolutely everything else in fandom—spoilers tend to polarize fans.

One kind of fan craves every possible scrap of information they can find. What outfits will such-and-so character be sporting? Where are they filming each episode? What new creatures, situations, and characters are coming up? These fans (the Spoiler Lovers) are the ones camping out at filming locations, taking photos at the set, and posting them for everyone else to see. Alternatively, if they can’t be there themselves, they are the fans who repost such snippets and spread the good news.

The problem comes when Spoiler Lovers post where Spoiler Haters can see the content—especially without forewarning that a post may contain spoilers, or where the first thing someone sees is an image containing spoilers. Such posts make the Spoiler Haters like me really unhappy.

That’s because on the other side of the coin are folks who are “old school”—we want to experience stories as the creators intended, with the surprises coming at the point in the narrative where they actually appear. As a writer myself—and a lifelong reader—I really appreciate the craft that goes into creating a storyline that will take the reader/viewer on a specific journey. Life is a chronologically linear experience for humans; I like discovering the nuances of plot as a story unfolds, rather than knowing ahead of time what to expect. I enjoy that surprise.

Knowing plenty of people who read the first couple chapters of a book, skip to the end, and then come back to finish it, I suppose I can understand why some people are so enamored of the spoiler culture. Sometimes a narrative is too tense without knowing where it’s headed. (I see this especially with my daughters, who still struggle with peril in their stories, both books and videos.) So I get that my way isn’t the only way, and certainly not best for everyone. I just want the Spoiler Lovers to respect that Spoiler Haters like me want to experience things differently, and find ways to share the spoilers in ways that we can avoid them if we wish.

After all, the whole point is that we’re fans of the same thing. Let’s help each other keep enjoying it.