Dear Mr. Crabs,
I must regretfully inform you that your manuscript, EMMA'S DILEMMA, is not a fit four our agency at this time. Further, I'd like to add that it won't be a fit for our agency at any point in the future. I'd also venture to say that it is unlikely to be a fit anywhere with anyone.
To be clear, the writing is so lyrically awful, and the plotting so deviously simplistic and obvious, that I read through the first 400 pages in the first night. Frankly, I couldn't put your manuscript down, but only because I was powerless to stop the mental agony, and was in a slack-jawed stupor until dawn, when my contact lenses finally dried out on my eyes and fell out, permitting merciful blurriness to obscure your writing.
I don't want to sound negative, but feel the need to be specific about the quality of suffering your writing inflicts. I have, for instance, discovered that using your manuscript to deliver paper cuts to my tongue is far more enjoyable than reading what you've authored. I have taken the liberty of wadding up the individual pages of your manuscript in order to more easily swallow them, and the garbage bag of semi-digested paper pellets I've returned with this letter must serve as a critique, and one which I urge you to heed.
In closing, please stop before you do real damage.
In the name of all humanity,
Agent Rosy