Our clients frequently receive questions about their writing habits: how they come up with ideas, their creative processes, and their thoughts on the skill and discipline it takes to finish a book. So we asked a few of our authors to share their experiences and suggestions with you here.

Nicholas Sparks
You can't be a writer if you don't write, it's just that simple. I wrote two complete novels and another book before I even attempted to write The Notebook . Those two novels are unpublished, but they taught me that I not only liked to write, but that I had it in me to finish a novel once I'd started it. Those lessons were important when I sat down to write The Notebook . I write five or six days a week, usually a minimum of 2000 words, sometimes more. 2000 words can take anywhere from three to eight hours. (Love those three-hour days, by the way, but the average is probably closer to five hours). The actual time spent writing depends on a number of factors, including what I'm writing, whether the scene is difficult or easy, etc. No matter what, I try to maintain consistency in my work habits. And I'm always trying to improve, to try new things, to write a new story that is better than anything else I've written. All people who regard writing as a profession write consistently. Those who regard it as a hobby usually don't. For more information, see Nicholas Sparks's Writer's Corner: http://nicholassparks.com/WritersCorner/Index.html

Debbie Macomber
I guess finding ideas to write about comes down to a writer’s filtering mechanism—how she looks at what’s in front of her. We all see the same things but notice different aspects of the same scene. I like to use an analogy to explain: My daughter, Jenny, who is a garage sale enthusiast, and I were traveling in my car some years ago. During that trip Jenny saw at least three garage sale advertisements in a short amount of time, because that's what she was looking for. During that same time frame I didn’t see a single one of those signs. I did see a mother and child swinging hands and walking, a boy chasing his puppy around his front yard, and a husband and wife arguing in the next car over. You get the idea. Naturally, my mind was busy inventing conversations and imagining pieces of these peoples' lives. I never run out of ideas because people never stop being interesting.

Writing novels begins by reading lots of novels, by studying what is being published and who is publishing it. And by writing. Every day.

Kelly Tyler-Lewis
Structure comes first for me. Narrative history needs more than chronology to be meaningful and resonant. Early in my research, I’m already thinking about the narrative rhythm of events and how the story could unfold, from the broad canvas of the book and the dramatic arc of each chapter to transitions and parallel action. For The Lost Men, I worked out the structure quite early, long before I began the first draft, which I found very freeing. You don't have to start writing on page 1--my first day of writing was devoted to chapter 16. For character development, it often made sense to write chapters out of sequence. I wrote 8 and 14 together, for example. I wanted to be immersed in a certain character's point of view and the reader's evolving knowledge of that person. And it worked. The original outline was surprisingly durable. Years of deep research and writing led to some changes, but for the most part, the structure held. I saw the story’s shape and themes most clearly in the beginning. It's the moment when my writer's perspective and my future readers' were closest. Much later, after masses of research blurred those first impressions, that framework also reminded me of the excitement and reactions of someone coming fresh to the material.

Linda Nichols
1.) A story usually begins with a seed. Sometimes it's an event. The opening scene from At the Scent of Water was born when I was having dinner with friends and we watched a man at a nearby table wait with champagne, roses, and a very small velvet box for a dinner partner who never came. I never forgot the impact of watching that man wait, and several years later a story was born from this incident.

2.) A writer's brain must be able to switch from editing to creating mode, but most don't run both programs at once. I know mine doesn't. If I try to critique my work in process (or have others critique it) I freeze up and can't write at all. When I am writing I try to turn off my editor and give myself permission to write badly. I tell myself the first draft doesn't count, that no one has to see it but me. I remind myself I can always polish it up later.

Lee Silver
The best popular science writing is achieved by authors whose knowledge base is much deeper than the material presented on the printed page. So does this mean that the best scientists are the best popularizers? The answer is no, almost never (with a small number of exceptions like Richard Dawkins). The problem is twofold. First, scientists are trained in an art of technical writing where the passive tense is common, interpretations are objective, metaphors are avoided, and speculation is shunned. To a lay audience, unfortunately, these traits will induce sleep more often than enlightenment. Second, the modern, highly collaborative enterprise of science operates with a vocabulary that contains not just obvious jargon, but alternative definitions of common words. "Cloning," "organic," and "energy" are a few examples with very different meanings to scientists and the reading public. So, here's my advice to prospective science popularizers. Learn the science you want to write about from actual scientists -- in formal classes, textbooks, technical papers, or interviews. But then seek out non-scientist friends, teachers, and others to discover how common language can be used most effectively and unambiguously to express your ideas about the wonders of the natural world.