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Times change, people change. Impetuous corra, who was prone to complain vociferously about cherished but dead ex tNBW members, or heartily welcome new members who'd been and gone several years hence... would have chewed the leg off poor James Martin long before digesting the editor's notes.

This is correct. Or should I say, this exactly the same experience that I encounter.  If someone has blocked me from accessing their work, I no longer have the permission required to block them from mine. That Author's profile, is as Janet says, marked private. The 'block' button does  not appear.

Oh, I can never delete the review in question; it's an audacious highfalutin masterclass masterpiece in aggressively tearing prose to shreds solely for the sake of sounding superior, authoritative and masterful in an attempt to humiliate and disgrace the author. It's fantastic; the best ever and I love it. A collector's item; somebody's best work, a real keeper.

I'd just like to stop the originator of the review, who blocked me, coming back and taunting me by editing/amending the comments section with further 'advice' upon what I should do to myself.

Great points here corra...  sometimes sexism is mistaken for patronisation. The tour guide fellow for instance; I bet he didn't patronize your mother. It is hugely annoying that he didn't take you seriously.  I've been places with my kids who are actually women now (23 and 19) and they get talked down to and treated as if they are dollies. I've seen it.  It is a human trait, I think it starts with those parents and adults who 'goo goo' talk to babies as if the child is not a fellow human being.

What I really hate is when people object to say, a female pilot. She may be the best person for the job, the most gifted and skilled, but she is dismissed as inferior assumed incapable by some, purely because of her gender. That's real sexism and I find it totally incomprehensible. Why would you demand a worse pilot simply because he is of a different gender? 

Raging liberals are so annoying, there's nothing wrong with general liberal principles but the ones that irk are those that jump onto other people's band-wagons and drive the agenda hard. That's an agenda by proxy, one that they don't really understand or that doesn't actually represent them. 

We all like to choose what we read and our selective process is driven by pre-conception and assumption. Easy choices. Syllabus or Curriculum defined novels are extremely important. I'd have never chosen to read Dickens, Shakespeare, Steinbeck, Twain, Orwell, Golding, Lee... et al if not for school. Other choices were more appealing and yet without the Syllabus I'd have never been properly introduced to the wonders of literature.

I tease with 'Little Women;' the truth is that I can't wait to get to it. I just have to read everything else in the world first.   x

A few opening paragraphs of this story were given the supportive, nurturing 'review' al Karen van Kriedt 'tear to shreds approach' (after which it would be patronizing to say 'good work or 'well done'). Bearing in mind this piece has already received 7 regular reviews and 5 other in-line reviews which have been digested and incorporated. It also won first place within the competition that it was written for.

                                                Hardon
                                                      by Dill Carver 2015

"Maybe he really doesn’t know anything… maybe he’s kosher.”  O'Toole spluttered, fear weaving a tremolo into his voice.  He retreated further into the shadows.

Through broken shutters within the high roof, random fingers of light pierced the dusty air of the dilapidated warehouse. As the watery London dawn broadened into something brighter one such iridescent shaft illuminated the chair-bound figure and his tormentor like a spotlight upon a centre stage tableau-vivant in limelight and shadow. A grotesque scene with Kaufmann hunched like a huge toad over the hooded victim and doing God knows what to the man’s exposed chest with a lighted cigarette.

O'Toole froze as Kaufmann ceased his work, let the captive slump in his bonds and turned to face him.

“He’s the fuckin’ accountant,” exclaimed Kaufmann in his ‘up-all-night’ Cockney gravel accent and flicked the cigarette at O’Toole with enough force for it to shower his chest in an explosion of red embers.

“Accountants know everything because they are busy little bastards. If you want to know about the money… you speak to the accountant.” He balled his left fist and landed a vicious sideways jab to the neck of the prisoner whilst maintaining eye contact with O’Toole.

“You, my son, are a fuckin’ nuisance. A nonce… a passenger… a pest,” Kaufmann, rolled the last word around his mouth like a bad taste whilst his finger remained extended in a post cigarette-flicking accusatory pointer aimed between O’Toole’s eyes.

“And you…” O’Toole retorted with fading conviction, “you’re a maniac Kaufmann, you’re a bridge too fuckin’ far… you always go too far.”

“Well, I ain’t even started with this one, don’t worry about that. I’ll go the whole fuckin’ way and we’ll see where that gets us.” The savage commitment within Kaufmann’s rage caused O’Toole to buckle as he flagged and sat upon the packing crate that he’d backed into.

“I don’t know… I honestly don’t know where they keep the money,” sobbed an urgent and pained voice from within the crumpled canvas. “I don’t know anything about the cash. I told you, as soon as I realised there was a shady side to the firm, I reported it to the police. I know nothing of it. They keep me to run the legitimate side of the business, and I’m straight, a part of the front. I know nothing about the criminal operation. That’s the whole point of it… that’s the point of me.”

It seemed to O’Toole that although there was fear in the voice, the accountant was making more of a proclamation of innocence than a plea for mercy and the sobbing seemed likely a result of broken teeth and split lips rather than self-pity. He sounded truthful.

-------------------------------------------------------------'
REVIEW Cut 'n' Paste, word for word with no edits
-------------------------------------------------------------

“Maybe he really doesn’t know anything… maybe he’s kosher.”  O'Toole spluttered, fear weaving a tremolo into his voice.  He retreated further into the shadows.

Through broken shutters within the high roof, random fingers of light pierced the dusty air of the dilapidated warehouse

As the watery London dawn broadened into something brighter.

one such iridescent shaft illuminated the chair-bound figure and his tormentor like a spotlight upon a centre stage tableau-vivant in limelight and shadow.

A grotesque scene with

Kaufmann hunched like a huge toad over the hooded victim and doing God knows what to the man’s exposed chest with a lighted cigarette

O'Toole froze as Kaufmann ceased his work,

let the captive slump in his bonds and turned to face him.
“He’s the fuckin’ accountant,” exclaimed Kaufmann in his ‘up-all-night’ Cockney gravel

accent and flicked the cigarette at O’Toole with enough force for it to shower his chest in an explosion of red embers.

“Accountants know everything because they are busy little bastards. If you want to know about the money

… you speak to the accountant.” He balled his left

fist and landed a vicious sideways jab to the neck of the prisoner whilst

  maintaining eye contact with O’Toole.
“You, my son

  , are a fuckin’ nuisance. A nonce

… a passenger… a pest,” Kaufmann, rolled the last word around his mouth like a bad taste whilst

his finger remained extended in a post cigarette-flicking accusatory pointer

aimed between

O’Toole’s eyes.
“And you…” O’Toole retorted with fading conviction, “you’re a maniac Kaufmann, you’re a bridge too fuckin’ far… you always go too far.”
“Well, I ain’t even started with this one, don’t worry about that. I’ll go the whole fuckin’ way and we’ll see where that gets us.” The savage commitment within Kaufmann’s rage caused O’Toole to buckle as he flagged and sat upon the packing crate that he’d backed into

“I don’t know… I honestly don’t know where they keep the money,” sobbed an urgent and pained voice

from within the crumpled canvas. “I don’t know anything about the cash

. I told you, as soon as I realised there was a shady side to the firm

, I reported it to the police. I know nothing of it. They keep me to run the legitimate side of the business, and I’m straight, a part of the front. I know nothing about the criminal operation. That’s the whole point of it… that’s the point of me.”

It seemed to O’Toole that although there was fear in the voice, the accountant was making more of a proclamation of innocence than a plea for mercy and the sobbing seemed likely a result of broken teeth and split lips rather than self-pity. He sounded truthful.

Technically speaking Vern; and in strict accordance to grammar and the English language... your reply was an ejaculation.

I'd have said the same. Ditto, but the other way around. I learned far more from you than I ever gave back. True!

But that was before I became the vile poisoner of an ogre that I am today.

I made a glib comment in respect of an offensive post in the forum and that person descended upon me; immediately sought out my work and hastily 'tore it to threads'.

The lesson she was dealing me was intended to belittle me, expose a multitude of flaws within with my work whilst simultaneously displaying superior editorial skills and literary knowledge upon her part. It didn't work, the review is so beyond pedantic that it comes across as desperate.

I never believed the fairy stories; how in 'Red Riding Hood,' inside of the gentle old lady, beneath that facade, is a vicious snarling dangerous wolf with evil intent waiting to burst out.

I'm gonna have to revise my beliefs.

You've only been here five minutes, and you have the audacity to think that I'm mean for being opposed to this...

You think this reviewing 'best practice' has a place on this site?

I know I am the mean one, but I'm truly sorry for your feelings of guilt for telling someone they’ve done a “Good job! It obviously made you feel very uncomfortable.  At least you can ease your conscious now, after tearing their work to shreds, by never saying anything encouraging at all.

Truthfully, I don't recall that. I wrote literally thousands of reviews back in the day upon the old site. I can actually remember three or four of them.

Since 2006 through to the end of the old site I remember dozens and dozens of members, but I don't recall you? I actually thought for a while that I did, but upon searching through my old archived documents, the member that I'd interacted with who I thought was you, turns out to be 'Deb'.  I don't know how I got mixed up upon that score. We obviously moved in different circles. Most of the members that I reviewed... I reviewed dozens of times, normally all or most of their work but I honestly don't recall ever reading (or reviewing) anything that you've written outside of the forum?

Where I do remember you, is from a forum spat after the site changed to the new format. You had an opinion expressing 'for' something in one thread and a contradictory opinion expressing 'against' the very same thing within another. It's a bit hazy now but it was fiery at the time. I might ask Vern if he recalls it, I'm sure he was around within the incident.

Since the new site I don't review much. Old colleagues originally from here, mostly off-line now or on another site. I review the tNBW competitions, mostly upon a reciprocation basis, unless I read an entry from somebody I don't know whose entry impresses me. 

If I've upset you in the past then apologies.

Again, to be honest, tNBW is a relatively small particle of my life. I'm embroiled in work and family, other writing projects and sites; photography clubs and workshops (my main passion) and military veteran and reunion groups and activities. Historical research projects. Study for trade accreditation exams. That and motorcycle stuff. If only you knew the extent of my heated discussions, spats, rows and disagreements across the scope of that lot; you'd understand why my tNBW memory is weak and inconsequential.  I am quite insensitive by nature and have always walked around with my foot in my mouth. Once bitten? You are very wise to steer clear of me and I have no memory of whatever passed between us, let alone lingering resentment or anything else to dwell upon. You are a name with nothing behind it and there is no reason to change that.

Cheers, Dill

Well, I was aiming a bit more generally toward the end; but anyway, do you think that within my views that I was 'tearing to shreds' and consciously abstaining  from saying 'well done' as per the proposed reviewing best practice?

I think that secretly you agree with me all of the time, it's just that most of the time you can't face the truth.

Seriously. I never claim to be right, I just express my current opinion. I am the first to admit I am often wrong, biased and inappropriate. It has been proved to me over and again. Sometimes, I love to be proven wrong, being shown a light, a better argument, swayed by superior logic or bested by superior intellect. They are fine moments in time, when the lights go on. Several members here have changed my interpretation, opinion and understanding upon a number of things. I realised a long time ago that if I don't let myself be educated by others, then I'll never move forward.  Okay, it's a slow job, heavy work and I'm probably not worth it; but there it is....

Hi Karen

BTW: I notice that your manta is "edit, edit, edit" and that you have severely edited your introduction to this thread since you first posted it. That is bad form. The replies are based upon your initial statement and you've radically changed that statement since people replied. It throws the whole thread out of context and kilter.

Anyway, I wondered what type of reviewer you are with your "torn their work to shreds" proclamation. Thankfully you answered my questions by reviewing an old piece of mine;

https://www.thenextbigwriter.com/update … 451/#start

You confine your review to the first few paragraphs and certainly (within your own mind at least) ‘tear the work to shreds’.

In one sense I feel vindicated upon the writing you feel is so awful. The piece you selected actually won 1st place within the competition for which it was written; so, although you might not say 'good job' it matters not because ultimately the judges did and the prize money was nice.

You pick up little or no valid technical issues but lambast my word choice and expression. Subjective to say the least?

You appear to demand that my literary voice conforms to your literary voice for no reason other than it is your personal preference for all writing to sound like your writing?

I am a British author from London England. I speak and write in the language I know. This story is set in London England and the characters are native.  You clearly do not understand the lingo. As with many US reviewers you assume my ‘British/London’ English language to be invalid, flawed or mistaken, insisting that colloquial expressions and regional dialects should be confined to a West Coast American version of English.   

You reviewing style is very bluntly assertive, insistent and authoritative. I feel this is in danger or appearing arrogant and ignorant.

Some snips from your review;

I write;
…O'Toole spluttered, fear weaving a tremolo into his voice.  He retreated further into the shadows.

Your editorial comment;
further? what do we have to compare it to?

Nearer? 

I write;
As the watery London dawn broadened into something brighter.

Your editorial comment;
brighter than what?

Brighter than it was previously? 

This from an author/editor who proclaims her mantra is ‘less is more’ ?

I write;
He balled his left fist and landed a vicious sideways jab to the neck of the prisoner whilst maintaining eye contact with O’Toole.

Your editorial comment;
an old-fashion version of while

It might be old-fashioned to you swanky Americans but it is actually how we talk here.

‘While’ is an expression of time. ‘I haven’t seen you in a while.’  ‘It’s been a while since I enjoyed a pint of beer.’

‘Whilst’ is used to express concurrency.’ Can you please watch my beer whilst I go for a piss.’  ‘I need to cover my arsehole whilst I bend for the soap.’

I’d say; ‘I saw her snoozing for a while, whilst at her desk, supposedly working!’

Following your editorial advice, you’d have to write; ‘I saw her snoozing at her desk for a while, while supposedly working.’

You see; your modern multiple use of a single word is not only confusing to English/English speakers… it can also require more wordage to fit into a sentence because you need to define in which context the otherwise explicit word is used.

I love to dissect and analyse prose. You said you like to ‘tear work to shreds’ and I’ve seen how you go to town. Well you are in luck. We have a ‘Shred Thread’ here, where we conduct deep inspection analysis upon sample prose.

I’ll stick your review of a piece of my piece in there so as I can fully appreciate your editorial guidance.

The game is afoot (at this point I imagine you staring indignantly down your leg to the appendage at the base whilst stating vociferously, “How can a foot be a game!”

I’ve had a quick random look at your product, and almost the first line I come across;

“A nearby apple tree was replete with apples hanging from its boughs…”

Now then, I’m not going to remark upon ‘replete’ being an old fashioned word just because I personally wouldn’t use it (or hear it) within a sentence. Nor am going to ask ‘Nearby? To what can we compare its nearness?’ I won’t at this point delve into the redundancy of being informed that the apple tree is full of apples (what not grapes?) nor that those apples upon the apple tree hang from the boughs as opposed to say, the trunk or the roots.

No, I’ll wait until I have the time to give your stuff a proper gander within the Shred Thread. This is great; I was bored and now I’m not.

It’s a game we can all play and the devil is — as you pointed out to me within the review and demonstrated within your own prose — most certainly within the detail.