‘I still feel like a lawyer who writes,’ says Neil White. ‘I’m trying to get my head around the idea that I’m a writer who’s a lawyer. It still feels like a bit of a hobby.’ But signing your second three-book deal with HarperCollins, as he has just done, should help in that process.

White, a solicitor working at the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS), is one of a small but growing band of lawyers who get home from a hard day in front of their work PC, only to spend a long night in front of their home PC in pursuit of a passion for writing fiction.

Many do not stray far from their legal roots, often penning thrillers featuring lawyers, but some disappear into a land far, far away. Spies, evil empires and giant insects are at the heart of Empire in Black and Gold, a fantasy adventure novel by legal executive Adrian Czajkowski, which was published this summer by Pan Macmillan (under the name Adrian Tchaikovsky, which it was thought readers would find easier). Czajkowksi, who heads the litigation department at Leeds firm Kellys, has sequels coming out later this year and next spring.

One of the best-known solicitor authors is Martin Edwards, head of employment at north-west firm Mace & Jones, who has turned out 13 novels, mainly in the crime genre and some of which star Liverpool solicitor Harry Devlin. Edwards recently won a Crime Writers Association award for best short story as well.Initially, Edwards says, ‘becoming a solicitor was a way of keeping the wolf from the door’ while he pursued his childhood writing ambition - ‘I then found that I liked it... I’m quite lucky to have two jobs that I enjoy’. And employment law and murder mysteries are not, it turns out, a million miles apart, because both have much to do with interpreting relationships. It’s just that employment disputes rarely lead to a hammer to the head.

Edwards is clearly happy juggling his two careers - ‘time management is the main issue’ - but for other legal authors, the ambition is to leave it all behind if possible. White openly admits he would write full-time if he could afford to do so (three children and a mortgage have thus far put paid to that), but nonetheless he seems to manage pretty well as he is. He aims to write 1,000 words an evening, which is pretty steep going by most part-time authors’ standards. ‘Because I’ve got three children, I’m always in,’ he jokes. ‘And because the CPS offers a better work/life balance, I don’t come home absolutely shattered.’

Well-known crime writer Frances Fyfield also cut her legal teeth at the CPS and, along with the likes of Helen Black and Francesca Weisman, proves that this writing lark is not just the preserve of male lawyers.

Equally, legal authors are as likely to come from large City firms as small high-street practices. Andrew Iyer and Sean Longley are examples of each, the former being head of the global energy and offshore group at Ince & Co, the latter a legal aid lawyer at south London practice GT Stewart.

Longley had long wanted to write a book but was stuck for an idea until hearing the tale of a French ship wrecked off the coast of Hartlepool during the Napoleonic wars. Legend has it that the only survivor was a monkey dressed in full naval uniform, which the locals eventually hanged as a spy. That gave him the jump-off point for a well-regarded first novel, The Hartlepool Monkey, which, he says, has at least provided him with a new kitchen and second-hand car. And yes, the main (human) character is a lawyer.

A hard-bitten criminal law solicitor who acted for one of the four boys accused of murdering Damilola Taylor, Longley refuses to get carried away with his success, resisting the temptation to check his Amazon rating on a daily basis, but is satisfied that it has sold well - and far in excess of the 600 that an unknown first-time author averages in hardback. The paperback is out next spring.

But one of the shocks many authors discover is that getting published is not the end point. It is just the end of the beginning. Having climbed to the top of a long ladder labelled ‘Getting published’, which in itself is a huge achievement that only a tiny percentage of wannabe novelists attain, you then find yourself at the bottom of another long ladder marked ‘Commercial success’; few writers actually make a proper living out of it. Despite evident and deserved pride in his accomplishment, Longley agrees: ‘You are built up to the idea that it is great and magical and life-changing, and it’s not. It just becomes something that you have done.’

Longley says that, in an ideal world, he would like the time to pursue ideas for further books. Then again, if he had the whole week to write, he can foresee only improving at computer games - writers have few peers when it comes to finding displacement activities. He works four days a week, which was originally to enable him to share child care, but eventually allowed him a writing day once the children were older.

Keeping it going after the breakthrough is a major challenge - Longley is currently working on the more commercial idea of a south London crime story inspired by working on a ‘cold case’ multiple rape, which his publisher is keen on but not yet committed to. Edwards observes that staying published is as hard, if not harder, than getting published in the first place. It is a tough old business where average sales below the top echelon are small.

Edwards’ agent, Mandy Little of Watson Little, explains that it all comes down to the book track figures - if sales go below a certain level, publishers will drop authors. ‘It’s very difficult to get through as a first-time novelist,’ she says. ‘But it’s possibly even harder to sustain it.’ Crime, though, is one of the better genres from this point of view, because writers build up a loyal fan base, she adds.

But some people enjoy some luck too. Iyer’s entry to the literary world was unusual and sprang from his one-time relationship with the daughter of football legend Bobby Moore. After the premature death of England’s World Cup winning captain, Moore’s wife set up the Bobby Moore Fund for Cancer Research and Iyer penned Domino Run, a thriller whose proceeds were to go to the fund. ‘I had very modest expectations for it,’ Iyer recalls - the idea was to sell it through charity shops. But active support from the likes of Sir Geoff Hurst and George Best turned it into a bestseller.

‘I consider myself to be a very fortunate amateur,' he says, but the reality is not as modest. His career as a City solicitor then took off and writing took a backseat until he took to his computer once more a few years ago to write another thriller, The Betrayed, which has again sold extremely well.

He is certainly sticking close to what he knows. The first book’s main character was a City solicitor, the second’s a provincial solicitor and the novel he is currently working on stars an in-house solicitor. ‘I haven’t really stretched myself... I’m not trying to write Catch-22 - I’m more of a storyteller than a great novelist.’

He too can see his writing becoming his career, having been approached by a US company about writing a screenplay. But one solicitor who has successfully made the leap to full-time novelist is Chris Sansom - who writes as CJ Sansom - author of a series of thrillers featuring hunchback Tudor (you guessed it) lawyer Matthew Shardlake. There are long-running talks to bring the books to the BBC, with Kenneth Branagh interested in starring.

Sansom worked as a civil litigator for nine years in Brighton. ‘I’d always wanted to write novels but throughout my time in the law didn’t have the energy to do a full-time job and write seriously,’ he says. Though he practised hard, attending writing groups and the like, it took a legacy from his father to give him the chance to take a year off and write properly. ‘I imagined I would be back in the law within the year,’ Sansom recalls. But after finishing his novel, not only did he quickly secure an agent, but he also found himself in that near mythical situation - spoken about by authors only in hushed tones - of being the subject of a bidding war among publishers.

‘Even after eight years it seems very strange to have got this level of success,’ Sansom reflects. ‘I still half expect to wake up in a meeting about the latest legal aid forms.’ He looks back with fondness on his legal career, but the pull of being a writer is stronger - ‘although my ears do still prick up at an interesting case’.

But not all lawyer novelists are compelled to have lawyers as their main characters. White, in fact, deliberately chooses not to. ‘If I made the main character a lawyer, I’d become obsessed by getting the detail right,’ he explains. At the same time, in the spirit of Alfred Hitchcock, he does try and have a cameo in his own books as a nameless prosecutor with grey hair and a shiny suit.

And yet, despite this proliferation of lawyers with a pen in hand, thereis nobody standing up to be the ‘English John Grisham’ - US lawyer authors are far more likely to write legal thrillers. Or, as Edwards prefers to put it, there has been no UK equivalent of Presumed Innocent, written by Scott Turow, who is still a practising lawyer despite that book’s huge success.

Why is that? White wonders if it is because ‘the American legal system is a bit more of a show – over here we try and do it properly’. Remember the outrage over the inaccuracy of the court scenes in In the Name of the Father, with Emma Thompson’s solicitor character bewigged and berating the Court of Appeal. Chris Sansom agrees: ‘There isn’t the tradition of courtroom drama,’ he says. Along similar lines, Little suggests that lawyers in the UK are perceived as ‘slightly backroom’ and so not exciting enough.

There is no doubting the pleasure and pride all of these lawyers have had from getting into print. It is no mean feat given that, as Little says, ‘it is harder than ever to get published’. Longley no longer drops it into conversation, but confesses that he did find himself doing so when his book first came out.

The thrill any author really wants is to be out and about, and see somebody actually reading their novel. Sadly, that rarely happens. Edwards, who is also a prolific writer on employment law, recalls: ‘I once saw someone reading one of my legal articles on the tube. It wasn’t as satisfying.’

Neil Rose is editorial consultant to the Gazette and the author of two novels, Bagels for Breakfast and Brief Encounters, published by Piatkus. Both of his lead characters are solicitors

How to get published

‘For months (years?) now, I have been telling myself (and anyone else who'll listen) that I am going to write a book,’ a friend of mine, Rina Wolfson, wrote in her blog, writes Neil Rose. ‘This impresses some people. They coo wide-eyed and say "How amazing!" and encourage me into believing that I really am the next big thing about to be discovered.

‘What they don't realise is that it's easy to say "I'm going to write a book" - anyone can do that - but actually sitting down and writing the bloody thing is a completely different matter. In fact, when I say, "I'm going to write a book", what I'm actually saying is "I haven't written a book yet", which, when put that way, is far less impressive.’

Many people say they want to write a book, but the reality, of course, is that putting together 120,000 or so coherent and well-plotted words is quite a task, requiring much perseverance.

Chris Sansom advises aspiring authors that ‘first you should think whether you really want to do it’ - and if so, you will ultimately find the time and motivation. For him, writing is a craft and crafts require practice. ‘Every new writer makes loads of mistakes in terms of the craft of doing it,’ he says. You are often best off initially just writing - short stories, random chapters, anything - so as to start developing your style.

Many writers prefer to toil away in solitude, but Sansom found writing groups beneficial, as did I - although you need to be able to take constructive criticism - and never forget that all writers are magpies, so seeing how other people write is a chance to improve your own writing. Similarly, read books with a writer’s eye, looking out for how the author pulls it off.

Though clearly you need some talent to become a novelist, there is a lot of technique that you can learn. But don’t get into the trap of constantly rewriting the same chapter - I have come across writers who barely make any progress because of this. It is best to put it away for weeks or even months and move on.

Every author plans their novel differently. Some construct detailed chapter plans before setting down a single word - and certainly a degree of plot planning is required in the crime and thriller genres - while others set forth with an idea of the beginning and end, and a rough idea of how to connect the two, which can change as the book develops.

Nowadays it is exceptionally hard to get published without an agent. It is not impossible - Andrew Iyer has managed it, but the unusual success of his first novel gave him contacts in the publishing business - and some publishers do have programmes for first-time authors.

The advice is to research carefully which agent takes the type of book you have written - The Writers and Artists Yearbook and Writers Handbook are useful guides - and then check their submission criteria. A good tip is to look in the author’s note of similar books, where the agent is often thanked. It is also important not to get discouraged. Plenty of famous authors have a wall full of rejection letters and there is always going to be a degree of fortune in reaching the right agent at the right time. Mandy Little advises writers to ‘read as much as you can in the genre you want to publish in - there’s a lot of fashion in this kind of thing’. It is important to know what editors are looking for.

Sean Longley says he only received six or seven rejections; his novel was the first his agent had taken off the ‘slush pile’ (of unsolicited manuscripts) in 15 years. But getting an agent does not guarantee a publisher. It was a further two years before Longley secured a publisher, and two years after that before he received a proof of the book. ‘By the time it got published, with all the rewriting and editing, I was so sick of it that I was slightly surprised it got good reviews,’ he jokes.

Writing a novel is not easy, but ultimately it should not be painful. If it is, maybe the life is not for you. Despite the frustrations, all of the authors interviewed for this article love the writing process and have fulfilled an ambition they have harboured for many years. It may be the route to fame and fortune only for a few, but there are not many people who can say they have had a novel published - it is a rare and wonderful satisfaction.