Writing to Strangers is the practice of reaching out to someone you do not know, because their work matters and you have a real reason to connect.
A famous person is still a person, and a brilliant developer is still a person. Status changes the volume of incoming messages, not the basic human facts of curiosity, fatigue, pride, care, and limited time.
The point is not to “get access.” The point is to create the possibility of a good exchange: a small bridge between two worlds that might help a project, a community, or a piece of work grow.
The right attitude is confident and humble at the same time. Confident enough to speak plainly and ask for what you want. Humble enough to accept that you might be wrong, early, inconvenient, or simply not their priority today.
Photo of Binley Woods Village Hall, showing a local volunteer, Norman Miller, wrote to David Bowie’s son (Duncan Jones) over a village hall project, sending letters and jokes over time. On the tenth anniversary of Bowie’s death, a donation of £10,116 reportedly arrived, a number that echoed the date (10/01/16) and carried a quiet sense of being seen - bbc.co.uk 
That story is not a formula. It is a reminder that sincere outreach sometimes travels further than you expect, and that kindness can be part of serious work.
Writing well to someone important is mostly about respect. Respect their time. Respect their autonomy. Respect your own intentions, so the message is not vague, needy, or performative. A good letter has a spine. - Say who you are in one sentence. - Say why you are writing in one sentence. - Show that you actually know their work (one specific detail). - Make one clear ask that can be answered with “yes” or “no.” - Make it easy to say yes (a link, a one-page summary, a date range, a tiny task). - Make it safe to say no (a graceful exit, no guilt, no chase).
The best “ask” is often smaller than you think. Instead of “Can you join our advisory board,” try “Could you point me to the one person who would most disagree with this idea.” Instead of “Can you fund this,” try “Could you tell me the one thing that would stop you funding this.” Instead of “Can you promote us,” try “Would you be willing to read a 200-word description and tell me what’s unclear.”
Proof beats hype. If the project is real, include evidence that it exists: a working demo, a short public note, a single page describing the aim and current status. If the project is early, say so. Early can be fine. Confusing is the problem.
Choose the right doorway. Celebrities often have managers, agents, foundations, or public contact routes. Developers often have issue trackers, mailing lists, chat rooms, and community norms. Turning up in the wrong place is a fast way to look careless.
Timing matters, but not in a superstitious way. Avoid the moment they are obviously overwhelmed. Prefer moments when there is a natural link: a new release, a talk, an interview, a public post where they asked a question.
Follow-up is part of the craft. One gentle follow-up after a week or two is normal. Two is sometimes fine. After that, silence is an answer, and dignity is part of the brand.
The hardest lesson is that most letters will not get a reply. This is not personal. People triage. They miss things. They intend to answer and fail. A good letter is still worth sending, because it clarifies your own thinking and because the act of reaching out is how networks become real.
There is also an ethical line. Do not manipulate, guilt-trip, or imply a relationship that does not exist. Do not treat attention as entitlement. Do not turn a “no” into a debate. Respecting boundaries is what keeps outreach from becoming spam.
Writing to Strangers is one of the simplest ways to practice a modern form of civic confidence. It says: important work is not locked behind private doors. It says: it is normal to ask, normal to offer, normal to invite. It says: the world is made by people writing to other people.
For a wider cultural take on writing to famous strangers, including the mix of courage, research, and vulnerability involved, see A. M. Homes’ reflection on the subject - theparisreview.org