Dear Wendy Sparrow,
While your manuscript consumed my interest, I’m afraid that wild gnomes from a far-off burrow broke into my office during the middle of the night and decided I shouldn’t represent you. I wanted to deny their demands, but if you’ve seen wild gnomes with their pointy sharp teeth and feral ways… you’ll understand. They’re standing above me while I’m typing this rejection and their pointy, red hats keep hitting the sides of my head. Honestly, Wendy, I’m scared, and not just a little bit. They’ve threatened to rip my arms off and beat me with them. While your manuscript is good, it’s not worth self-flagellation. I’m not rejecting you as either a writer or a person. I’m sure you’re a lovely individual for the gnomes to be taking so much joy in thwarting you.
You can see how much it pains me as I’m belaboring over this rejection even as the gnomes are going through my inbox and throwing papers around like confetti. Yes, this is a subjective business, but really it’s ruled often by luck… and, by luck, I mean the leprechauns who sent out the gnomes in the first place. Hopefully, you’ll find someone who isn’t afraid of the leprechauns or their gnome minions who’ll champion your book and fight the oppression of small fictional creatures with claws and an interest in manuscripts meant for mid-grade nearing young adult audiences. I’m afraid I’m just not that person. Please don’t judge me.
(Send help and cookies to appease the gnomes.)