I'm glad and grateful that you are considering this invitation. Before you begin writing, there are a few things you should know about how this works.

What we're asking for:

Write the letter to one person. Someone real or imagined, alive or gone, or even yourself. Begin the letter with a single address line, however you'd like to name them. To Maryam, or To my grandmother, or To the friend I lost in 2009, or To my younger self. You decide how much to say with that line. You don't have to explain who they are. The letter that follows will say what needs to be said.

How to write it:

Write the letter the way you would speak to them if you were saying only what most needed saying. Write what you actually think. What you actually feel. Not what should be said, but what needs to be said. Imagine this is the letter that will remain of you, because, in truth, it will. Write what you want to leave behind.

This letter will be read by one person at a time, slowly, carefully. Write for that kind of reading. Write something that will mean something today and will still mean something ten years from now. Trust the depth. Don't chase the news, the pains, the troubles of the day.

There is no minimum length, a sentence can be a letter if it's the right sentence. If you find yourself writing more than around 2,000 words, you're probably writing an essay. But if your letter needs more space, use it. It's your letter.

In time, we hope these letters will appear in more than one language, but at the start the site will be in Persian and English. Persian is our preference, but if another language is closer to your thinking, write in that. We'll translate it. You'll approve the translation.

You can type the letter here. Or, if you prefer, write it by hand, on paper, with a pen. Take a photo of the handwritten letter and send it to us. If you don't type it, we'll do it for you. Handwriting carries something that typing doesn't. If that matters to you, do it.

What happens next:

Once you've sent us your finished letter, our editorial team will read it carefully and with patience. Publication is our editorial choice, not a guarantee. We're looking for letters that have been thought through carefully, that are honest, and that will still mean something years from now. Most of the letters we receive will meet that bar, but some won't. That's all right. It doesn't mean the letter isn't good, only that it isn't quite right for this particular collection. If that happens, we'll tell you honestly.

If your letter is approved, it will be published on Negah.

After publication, you'll have two invitations to give to anyone you think should write a letter. Publication on Negah happens by invitation only.

You have just two invitations. If it isn't used within three months, it expires, and you won't be given another. Choose your guest carefully. We're not looking for quick growth here. We want to grow slowly, by trust.

About publication:

Your letter will be published under your full name, unless you'd rather it weren't. If there's a safety concern, we can talk about other options. But the default is your real name, because your voice matters and deserves to be your own.

In the future, we may publish a selection of these letters as a book. If that happens and your letter is chosen for print, we'll certainly let you know, and we'll send you a copy of the book. By publishing your letter on Negah, you're also agreeing to this possibility.

Private messages from readers:

There are no public comments on this site. No "likes," no "comments," none of that. But you can choose whether to allow readers to write to you privately through the platform.

If you turn this on, a reader can send you a short, private message, without ever seeing your contact information or email address. You receive it, you decide whether to read it, whether to respond, whether to act on it. Whatever happens, there is no expectation; the choice and the responsibility are entirely yours.

You can turn this on or off at any time, even after publication.

One last thing:

This is a private space. Until your letter is published, only you and we can see it, no one else.

I am deeply grateful you are with us in building this place.