On the Subject of Ethical Reviewing: My Guiding Principles

On the subject of ethical reviewing: My guiding principles

Last Friday, I mentioned a previous email exchange with Angela (a pseudonym), a blogger who self‑published an inspirational romance novel. She sent me her third email, again requesting that I read a sample of her book on Amazon, purchase it in Kindle or paperback format, and write a review to help boost its sales and visibility.

Below is a redacted version of Angela’s third email:

Dear Alex,
I hope you are doing well.
This is just a friendly reminder about my novel “Redacted.” It is available to buy in Paperback and eBook formats and is free on Kindle Unlimited. It is for anyone who has ever loved or grieved the loss of a loved one .
Read the free sample as well as get a full copy at (redacted).
Thanks and regards,

Angela

Her first email from September 2025 was similar, though initially less forceful, since her book had just been released. Personally, I’m not a reader of inspirational romance, which is her book’s genre. I like novels with love stories, sure, but I find romance novels—regardless of subgenre—predictable and not terribly original. Plus, I was in the process of settling in here in Orlando after a hectic and stressful move from Miami. So I ignored it.

There’s also the fact that, aside from subscribing to my WordPress blog and perhaps liking some of my posts, Angela had never engaged with me before that original request to read her book and give her “feedback.” That was a turnoff, so consciously or unconsciously, I skimmed through her request and promptly forgot about it.

Unfortunately, Angela did not forget about it. On New Year’s Day, she emailed again:

Dear Alex,
As the New Year rushes into your life, I sincerely hope it brings along the best of blessings

for you and yours.
Happy New Year 2026!

To her credit, she didn’t add a reminder to check out her novel. Still, considering this was in a thread of emails about her book and how she needed both sales and feedback, it’s not a huge leap of logic to assume that Angela was trying to jog my memory and motivate me to buy and review her book.

I, meanwhile, had other things on my mind and forgot about Angela’s novel. I took her email at face value, sent Angela a polite New Year’s greeting, and went ahead with my usual writing‑related work.

And then Thursday came, along with that insistent, practically demanding request to buy and review Angela’s novel.

At first, I hesitated. The genre Angela chose to write in is not one I willingly read unless I’m trapped in a waiting room or airport terminal and there’s no other book handy. Plus, if she wanted a fair and honest critique, I’d have to buy at least the Kindle edition because—even if the sample on Amazon was indicative of her writing style and skills—I couldn’t in good conscience review only a sample.

Still, I try to be a decent human being. So I decided to read the sample on the novel’s Amazon page.

And I regretted it.

The first sign of trouble was the blurb. It was, to put it mildly, a mess. It was a thicket of clichés and poorly structured phrases, and it failed at the very job a blurb is supposed to do.

If you’ve ever shopped for books, you know that first impressions are important, and the quality of the blurb is a huge influence on your decision to buy a book or leave it on the shelf where you found it. Aside from the cover art, I’d argue that the blurb—its rhythms and hues, its wording, and overall tone—is the most essential sales device authors have in their toolkit. This is especially true in self‑publishing, where writers must not only write the book but also the promotional copy to sell it. (In traditional publishing, the marketing department usually works with the author on blurbs and related materials.)

Angela’s blurb, sadly, failed in all respects.

The sample from Redacted supplied by Amazon demonstrated similar problems. It read like the work of an overeager adolescent who had devoured a stack of Avon romance novels, absorbed some of the genre’s tropes and stylistic affectations, but lacked the attention to detail and basic writing skills that traditional publishers expect from even novice writers. The description of places was at times overly specific yet oddly generic in others. The dialogue was amateurish and too artificial to sound like real people speaking, and the characters felt like characters, not fully developed humans.

Mercifully, Redacted’s sample included only a few pages, and I survived the experience, but I felt like I’d trudged through a murky swamp full of clichés, inspirational bromides, and half‑baked world‑building.

When I finished my “assignment,” I emailed Angela.

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My email to Angela

Dear Angela,

Thank you for reaching out regarding your first novel, Redacted.

As you requested, I read the free sample this morning. Although romance novels with spiritual undertones are not my usual preference, I appreciate you sharing your work with me.

Because you asked for an honest appraisal, that’s what I’ll give you. I began my public writing career as an entertainment editor and reviewer, and I’ve been reviewing books, films, and other media online since 2003. That experience shapes how I read and what I notice when someone asks me for feedback.

You need a professional editor. I know that sounds harsh, but what I read needs a lot of careful editing. There are too many errors, even in your back cover blurb (which is just as important to a book you are trying to sell as the main text, because it is one of the first things readers will see on your Amazon page) for me to overlook as a reader or a reviewer.

You also need a proper copyright page, as well as a disclaimer stating that the novel is a work of fiction and that the people and places you write about are imaginary, or are used fictitiously.

I tried to read the rest of the excerpt on Amazon, but as I said before, you need a professional editor to improve the prose.

That’s my honest opinion. I hope you don’t take it as an insult or a lack of care on my part.

Best regards,
Alex Diaz‑Granados

I suspect that Angela did not appreciate my feedback, as she never responded to my email. Silence in these situations often speaks volumes. While I hope she understood my intention to be constructive, her lack of reply suggests the message may not have been well received. And that’s fine—no writer is obligated to enjoy criticism—but the absence of even a brief acknowledgment underscores why ethical reviewing practices matter.

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How I approach requests like Angela’s

My response to Angela wasn’t written in a vacuum. It comes out of more than two decades of reading and reviewing, and out of a personal code I’ve developed over time.

I started my public writing life as an entertainment editor and reviewer. Long before I published my own fiction, I was evaluating other people’s creative work—first in school publications, then in print and online venues. I’ve been reviewing media products online since 2003, which means I’ve seen the best and worst of how writers approach reviewers, and how reviewers respond.

Out of that experience, I’ve distilled what I call my Five Rules of Reviewing. They’re not laws, just guiding principles that keep the relationship between writer and reviewer grounded in respect.

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The Five Rules of Reviewing

• Ask once.
  Silence is an answer. No one owes you their time, their money, or their attention. A single, polite request is fine; repeated nudges cross the line into pressure.
• Never assume a sale.
  A link is an invitation, not an obligation. When you send someone your Amazon page, you’re offering an opportunity, not issuing a directive. Entitlement poisons the well.
• Respect the reader’s time.
  Reading and reviewing are labor. They require focus, energy, and often emotional bandwidth. Treat that investment as a gift, not a given.
• Be ready for honesty.
  If you ask for feedback, you must be prepared for critique. “Tell me what you think” is not the same as “Tell me only what I want to hear.” An honest “this needs work” is more respectful than a hollow “I loved it!” that teaches you nothing.
• Say thank you.
  Engagement deserves acknowledgment, even when the feedback stings. A simple “Thank you for taking the time” goes a long way toward maintaining goodwill and professionalism.

These rules are the lens through which I viewed Angela’s repeated requests and the sample of her book. They’re also the reason I chose candor over empty praise. If I tell another writer that their unedited, error‑filled book is “wonderful” just to be nice, I’m not helping them. I’m lying to them.

Ethical reviewing, to me, means respecting the work, respecting the reader, and respecting the truth—even when the truth is uncomfortable.