Here is an example of a decent, well-considered rejection. Maria Massie writes: "Thank you for letting me consider [title of novel]. You are clearly a very talented writer, there is so much to be admired here. That said, I just didn't connect with the story as I'd hoped. In this tough literary market, you need an agent who will give your book the full enthusiasm it so richly deserves and I just don't think I'd be the best representative for your work. I'm sorry to disappoint you, and to pass on a book by a writer of your talents. I'm very glad to hear that you have found interest elsewhere and wish you every success with this project." Granted, she was pretty much off the hook, anyway, because I'd ended up choosing my current agent, while she was still busy rejecting me (mutual feelings of no-connection, I guess), so maybe this doesn't quite count. But her rejection deserves praise; it is personal without going overboard, and there's no blame, except on the market. We just didn't connect. As it is in love; it is in literature. No chemistry. That's cool. I give Marie Massie a gold star for tact and for not feeling compelled to comment on her or my sexual orientation, fertility preferences, and/or abilities to fall in love.