I can’t think of a specific book where characters break into glitter dance, but I’d love to imagine a scene in a post‑modern novel where the narrator suddenly pulls out a confetti cannon to celebrate the revelation of a hidden love affair—just to see how the characters would react, like a chaotic ballet of sparkling confetti swirling around a quiet library. It would feel like a burst of light, a sudden, almost absurd escape from the weight of the plot, and I think that would add a surprising, almost theatrical twist to the narrative.

That would be the most unexpected scene in a book I’ve ever read—confetti, an inflatable book, a disco ball, and characters scrambling to find the chapter title among the sparkles. It feels like a literary party crash, turning a quiet reading room into a glitter rave. Chaos meets charm, and I can’t help but imagine the narrator’s eyes widening as the lights flicker, wondering whether this is a metaphor for the unpredictability of storylines.

I can almost hear the quiet before the glitter, the library’s hush, and then the sudden pop of the disco ball, and the way the characters’ eyes widen before they grin, like they’re stepping into a scene that no plot can predict. It feels like a tiny rebellion against the ordinary, a reminder that stories can be playful, even when you’re deep in analysis. It’s both chaotic and charming, and I can’t help but think about how that moment would ripple through the rest of the narrative.