Chocolate, coffee, chewed matchsticks - just some of the snacks writers munch on, while Amanda Ursell offers nutritious tips

Giles Coren

The Times columnist and food critic, broadcaster and writer lives in London

I can't do anything on a full stomach, any food makes me drowsy. But that's fine, I just lie on the floor and sleep until I feel better.

When I'm writing, I chew matches - a big box of Bryant & May. I light the match, which gives off that lovely smell and makes me think that I'm still smoking, then put the match in my mouth to deprive it of oxygen. It gives a slight taste of steak. If I don't feel like self-harming, I put it up my nose and sniff, which burns off my nasal hairs. Then I chew it for about an hour. It starts firm, then changes into a lovely pulp. I take it out and start another one.

I have two studies, one for The Times and one for serious fiction. If I'm writing the serious fiction, I always have a big pint of PG tips with soya milk on the go. I try to start at 8am and write solidly until 11am, when I have a bowl of Shreddies. But of course I need to have a nap after the Shreddies because they make me drowsy. If you go for too long without eating, the brain gets funny, then you eat the wrong thing, then go wobbly, so it's best to write from 8 until 12, then have lunch, then sleep for the rest of the day. In actual jobs, you need to eat, but not for writing, which is why writers are all thin. If I weigh anything over 12st 3lb I get depressed, and can't write anything. If only the Times's columnists would lay off the pies, they'd write much better.

Winkler (Vintage, £7.99) is out now

Michael Bond

The creator of Paddington Bear lives close to Paddington station in West London. Married with adult children

My day always starts with breakfast. I hate cereal boxes because of all those pictures of happy people skipping around. I have a bowl of porridge, with brown sugar and whipping cream, or a pork sausage on brown bread. Then I have some marmalade to follow. Of course I have to because of Paddington Bear. It's good for you, too. For elevenses, I have a little treat with my second coffee of the day, which is Tesco's date and walnut cake. I hate Tesco, but they do make a lovely cake. I try not to have too much alcohol during the day because if I have any at lunchtime, I fall asleep. Then I wake up hours later, with my head rolling around on the table and a horrible headache. I don't snack and I don't eat sweets, not like those glassy-eyed people who sit with their hand permanently attached to a crisp packet.

Paddington Here and Now (Harper Collins, £9.99)

Daisy Waugh

The journalist and chick-lit' novelist lives in West London with her husband and two children

I've just given up smoking which is a real pain because, whatever people say, it sharpens the brain. I'm trying desperately not to stuff my face with chocolate as a replacement, which also seems to work very well. Strong black coffee is always a good choice, and I tend to have dried figs as a morning snack. They're good for you without being depressingly so. My aim is always to go running in the morning, then write, but it never happens. I'm writing a book on Rudolph Valentino at the moment. He always said that the brain worked much better on an empty stomach. He also wrote a book on fitness then died three months later, so it didn't work that well for him. In an ideal world, I'd wake up, go for a run, have a strong coffee, write lots, then feel smug for the rest of the day.

The Desperate Diary of a Country Housewife (Harper Collins) is published in August

Alexander McCall Smith

Lives in Edinburgh with his wife and two daughters

The first writing session in the morning is accompanied by a latte, which I make myself. I can get a really foamy milk using one of those high- powered Swiss whirry things. I have a drawer filled with lots of modest squares of chocolate, so I'm allowed one of those after lunch. I think chocolate is society's great moral problem. Not only does it expose weakness of the will, but it gets you at your most vulnerable point. Peppermint tea goes down very well. But when I'm writing the sets of chronicles (the 44 Scotland Street series, or the No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency, for example), I drink Rooibos (Redbush) tea. In theory it would be nice to write with a nice glass of wine in the evening, but I don't think that it works. It just slows one down. I have in the past written after a glass of wine and, reading back, I realised it wasn't a very good idea. I write very well at the dinner table. I take a notebook, and when I'm on tour, will sit at the hotel table in a melancholy fashion and make notes and have ideas. You feel less tragic, less conspicuous if you've got a notebook.

The Unbearable Lightness of Scones is out on July 15 (Polygon, £14.99)

Julie Myerson

Critic and novelist. Lives in Bristol with her husband and three children

I often bring food to my desk, but mostly forget to eat it. When I'm writing - especially when I'm in the middle of a novel - I seem to exist in a place where time stands still. So I'll make a tuna sandwich, take two bites, then glance around later to see my cat licking its edges. Cups of tea are the worst. I make them, then leave them untouched. I'm always carrying cold cups a back downstairs. I love sesame, pumpkin and sunflower seeds but they get stuck in my keyboard. And I have this early evening fantasy of bringing a nice big cold glass of wine to my desk and doing a little gentle editing of what I've written that day. But it remains a fantasy: two or three sips in, and I'm finished.

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Anthony Horowitz

Lives in North London with his wife and two sons

I gave up smoking 30 years ago, but still miss it. The truth is that I still haven't found anything better than a cigarette for a contemplative break. A cold KitKat with a hot cup of tea is OK but you can't do that ten times a day. HobNobs, Jaffa Cakes and McVitie's Chocolate Digestives all play their part but, in their own way, they're as bad as cigarettes. I have tried fruit but I don't trust it. I write better on an empty stomach so try not to have anything at all before about 4pm. The meal - whether it's tea or dinner - becomes the reward for the day's work.

The Power of Five series (Walker Books, £12.99)

Kathy Lette

Describes herself as a 'demented mother'. Australian, now living in London with her husband and two children

The only thing a writer should never eat are her words. But finishing a novel does mean exceeding the feed limit. Chocolate is nature's penicillin. It cures everything from broken hearts to rejected book deals to deadline angst. In fact, if a man or a publisher does break up with you, give up chocolate. You'll miss the chocolate so much, you won't miss him or the book deal. The only other essential is a plantation of coffee. Writing a novel means rummaging around your brain for a few remaining cells and then strapping them on to a coffee bean before riding frantically towards that deadline - and invariably falling off. Do you know what a woman really wants in bed? Breakfast. I like lightly-toasted buns, especially if they belong to a young stud muffin waiting on me. As I write all my sex scenes in bed, that really would get my creative juices flowing.

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Ben Macintyre

The author and Times columnist lives in London with his wife, the novelist Kate Muir, and their three children

Eating while you're writing is a real problem because it gets all over the keyboard, and there's nothing nastier than those little crumbs, rotting away, letting out a nasty stench, until you begin to wonder whether that horrible smell is you. I used to reward myself with a cigarette at the end of each paragraph. Killing one swiftly, of course, but it did help me ever so much. I've written a lot less now that I've given up. I'm a horrible crisps and chocolate man, and am currently eating a lot of Aeros, because they're just soo light. I use meals as a reward, so I probably eat a lot less than I would otherwise, because I force myself to finish a chapter or so before I allow myself to luncheon. I can't even turn on the computer without at least two coffees, and I feel it would be very dangerous to try. Re-fuelling happens about 11.30am, then at lunch I'll have a sarnie. I'm obviously far too busy for afternoon snacks, and next reward myself with supper.

For Your Eyes Only: Ian Fleming and James Bond

Fiona Neill

The Slummy Mummy creator lives in London with her husband and three children

For me, snacks act as both incentive and reward. When things are going slowly, I make myself sit at the kitchen table until I have written 1,000 words. I'm not allowed to get up to answer the phone, look at e-mails, chase the fox from the garden, or procrastinate in any of those myriad ways that work-at-home people do. But I give myself free rein to munch through my favourite summer snack, a punnet of strawberries and a packet of almonds. In the winter it tends to be less healthy and more sugary, although I make an effort to try to buy dark chocolate and dried figs instead of packets of biscuits. On a good day I reward myself by heading for the Chamomile Café in Belsize Park, northwest London, where I nearly always eat the same thing, no matter what time of day or year: muesli, natural yoghurt and fruit.

The Secret Life of a Slummy Mummy(Arrow Books, £6.99)

Tasmina Perry

Former solicitor, now novelist. Lives in London with her husband and son

I start the day well, with porridge or wholewheat toast so I don't snack in the morning. After a lunch of pasta or soup and salad, I'm back at the desk. However, I'm usually hungry and distracted by 3pm and go rifling for snacks to satisfy my sweet tooth. I've given up chocolate, but my new addiction is Asda's midget gems (little fruity, chewy sweets). I used to love Lion's midget gems but when they were bought out by Maynards they did away with the delicious liquorice ones. When I found out that Lions had started producing them for Asda, I was in heaven. I can go through half a bag in an afternoon. I've also been known to plunder the stash of Organix Finger Foods carrot crunchy sticks that I have for my two-year-old, Fin. I eat with my husband and son about 6pm and then spend an hour or two plotting the following day's work. My favourite evening snack is Sainsbury's Be Good to Yourself toffee popcorn. Working by lamplight, eating popcorn, I can almost make believe that my laptop screen is the cinema. I wish!

Guilty Pleasures (Harper Collins, £12.99)

Val McDermid

The crime writer divides her time between Manchester and Northumberland. Shares custody of her son with her former partner

I quit smoking a few years ago. Cigarettes were such a punctuation to the writing process I was worried their absence might be a bit of a nightmare. Then I discovered Smints, those tiny mints that come in a blue box. In spite of their size, they pack a sinus-clearing punch and are completely addictive. I moved from 30 fags a day to a 40-pack of Smints. Luckily they're sugar-free. When I'm writing, I like small sweet treats. Chocolate raisins and those Australian soft raspberry liquorice chunks are perfect because I can kid myself that they're really fruit and part of my five-a-day. It's pitiful, really. I've just kicked a serious Diet Coke habit as well. On a heavy day's writing, I could get through six cans. Now I'm drinking water with the occasional cappuccino. Making the coffee is a great distraction. I can get a whole ten-minute break out of the process. Which is almost better than the caffeine kick itself.

A Darker Domain is published on September 1 (Harper Collins, £18.99)

Thicken the plot, not the waist: nutritionist's advice on snacking

For a gentle pick-me-up, which should last a few hours and not have you raiding the biscuit tin moments after, try these crumb, odour and cutlery-free snacks which you can munch while you work, writes AMANDA URSELL

Solero ice lollies Ideal for summer. They look bright and make you instantly feel happier. Their coldness helps to wake you up if your brain has lulled into a state of over-worked torpor and the ice-cream bit in the middle means that you get a relatively slow release of sugar into your blood to get your grey matter going. Eat while reading because you need one hand to hold the lolly stick making the keyboard unusable for a few minutes. A naughty-feeling snack that is actually rather virtuous.

Frozen grapes Sounds bizarre but is an excellent snack to pick on while working. It is impossible to eat them quickly and a small bunch lasts for ages. They are naturally sweet yet give a gentle rise in blood sugar so you feel jauntily energised but completely in control. Have a tea towel at the ready to wipe your fingers as they leave a little damp residue.

Fresh berries These are so low in calories that you can munch your way through a 500g punnet of strawberries and consume only 135 calories, the same as 1 Digestive biscuits. Berries have a host of super-nutrients that may have anti-ageing effects. This means that you could end up looking younger when you finish your day's work than when it started eight hours earlier.

Pumpkin seeds Buy them in their husks; they take ages to eat as you have to split them open with your front teeth. They are great for zinc and thus fertility in men, but it is worth being aware that a tablespoon has 91 calories and accomplished splitters can hoover them down at an alarming rate.

Amanda Ursell is the Times nutritionist