I'd been working at the St. Louis Post-Dispatch for nearly five and a half years when another reporter and I started a project on teenagers and mental illness. I'd been waiting for a chance to do a multi-part series and I'd gathered reams of material, done dozens of interviews and was ready to start writing. I faced an empty computer screen, struck with rising panic and that terrorizing thought.

It was the same thought that seized my brain on my first day of each of my internships, my first day at the paper and at countless moments afterward when the words wouldn't flow. "They are going to find out I am complete fraud and I can't do this job. I have no idea what I am doing. Maybe I don't have what it takes to be a science writer."

Every writer I know has had that moment, usually on a semi-regular basis. I suppose that at some point, people gain confidence in their skills, but most writers I know are always a little insecure. That's not entirely bad; insecurity can be a powerful motivator as long as it's harnessed constructively.

So how is an aspiring science writer to know if he or she has what it takes to make it in this unknown profession? Here's a guide to some of the skills science writers need. The list is not comprehensive and is open to interpretation. I'll also offer some suggestions for how you can improve your own skills before you launch into a new career.

A science writer

Don't worry if your hamstrings are tight and you haven't touched your toes in years. We're not talking yoga. An open, agile mind is what you need.

Rigidity doesn't serve most journalists well. News breaks. Schedules change. Stories take new turns. And a good science writer must be able to roll with the punches. Whether you're a staff writer or a freelancer, you'll need to be able to juggle several projects at once, leaping from topic to topic as effortlessly as a frog traversing lily pads.

One of the best ways to flex your mind is to read. don't stick to papers in your field. I know it's hard enough to keep up with the current literature in your field, but think of reading something else as mental vacation. You get to explore uncharted territory and expand your horizons.

When I was a graduate student, I was put in charge of organizing a journal club. I insisted that students present papers from outside their field. It helped them understand new techniques and introduced me to a wider variety of subjects than I would otherwise have encountered.

When you go to meetings, make a point to sit in on some sessions or visit posters that just sound cool, unusual, fun or important, even if they aren't in your field. Talking to the presenters will help you hone your interviewing skills too.

This may seem like a contradiction to Skill Number One, but it's not. One must be flexible, but one must also be able to finish a story or one doesn't get paid/stay employed for long.

Some stories are hard to get. They take patience and perseverance and certain amount of bulldogedness.

Journalists pursue truth. Some sources will try to divert you down a different path. Some will throw up roadblocks. Sometimes the road to truth forks and you have to either decide which way leads to the destination or blaze a new trail. Sometimes you have to backtrack.

But through it all you have to hold on and make like a Canadian Mountie. They always get their men. Journalists must be able to get their stories.

When you've nailed a story, a tremendous feeling of satisfaction and excitement descends upon you. All the hard work seems entirely worth it.

For someone just getting their feet wet, doing any story can be the challenge. Do an exhaustive search for outlets for your talent. Most universities have public affairs offices. Some Public Information Officers, the people who write the press releases that alert journalists to new research at a school, will take on interns. Usually, it's an unpaid position, but it can be a way to get some writing experience.

Your campus paper may also be a good way to break in. That's how I started. I had an idea for the paper and pitched it to the editor. She liked it and I ended up writing four other stories for her. Those clips helped me get into journalism school and get an internship later.

Knows when to give up:

Wait a darn minute! I know what you're thinking. Mountie indeed. Now, I'm talking like Rocky's trainer the minute my fighter starts bleeding. (See what I mean about flexibility?)

Just as important as getting the story is knowing when to recognize that you're wasting your time and need to move on to something more productive.

Graduate school is perhaps the best preparation for this skill. If you know when to dump futile experiments, after trying valiantly to make them work, you're probably solidly versed in this skill.

One of the joys of newspaper journalism is the fast turn-around time. I now get published within a day of submitting my story.

That pace also means that you must be prepared to become an instant expert on a topic, read, do background research, identify good sources, conduct interviews and write an informative story all within a few hours of getting an assignment. Even longer-term projects are often completed within a week or two.

Magazines and weekly publications have different deadline pressures. Journalists who work those publications must be way ahead of the curve if their stories are to be timely as well as in-depth.

I'm not going to lie and tell you deadlines aren't stressful. They really can be. But it's also a major adrenaline rush. I amaze myself at how my brain can focus as tightly as a laser when I'm pushing a deadline. Deadlines also keep my tendency to over-report and research in line. I can only build the mountain of information I'm collecting so high on deadline. That saves me from being buried too deeply to find the story when it comes time to start writing.

It's not science writing, but one of the best ways to work on your speed is to cover local sports stories, concerts, or public meetings for your campus newspaper. Some local newspapers will also take work from stringers who are willing to go to zoning commission meetings or town government meetings. Covering these types of events not only gives you a whole new insight into how passionately people feel about sewer lines and tax levies, but also helps you hone your reporting skills, speed, and your news judgment. Even if you can't find a newspaper willing to take you on, try writing these things for yourself. Some communities have newsletters that may welcome your contribution.

Just because a topic shakes your scientific world, doesn't mean that Mr. and Mrs. Everyperson or Joe Businessman cares to read about it. Journalists tell people what is going on in the world. We give them tips on new trends, inform them about cool stuff, and sift through confusion to try to make sense of things.

Much of science is no-man's land as far as readers are concerned. They want to know about things that will affect their lives, the economy or the environment. They don't really care about the latest sequencing technique, or newest member of a chromatin remodeling complex.

A journalist has to judge whether an advance really constitutes a leap forward or is merely a baby step. That doesn't mean a baby step is off-limits. Stories that give readers insight into the scientific process should emphasize how research builds upon many incremental advances.

News judgment is subjective. As a reporter, I'm often convinced I have a great story. Sometimes my editors don't agree. That's part of life. But another part of a journalist's life is finding the story thread that weaves nuggets of information together like pearls on a necklace. It's exhilarating to be the first to break news to the world. Part of good news judgment is the talent to uncover the hidden stories.

Ask yourself when you're reading Science or Nature (two journals that science writers routinely draw on for story material), "is this story important? Why would my mother be interested in this? Would my neighbor care?" Why are you reading the article? For work or just because it interests you? If it's just interesting, maybe it's of interest to others.

Editors are both a writer's bane and best friend. A good editor can help shape a story, making it better than the writer ever could alone. If you don't have an editor, try bouncing ideas off a friend you trust to be objective.

If you're doing your job right, someone is going to be unhappy with you. You know you're really doing a good job if people from opposite ends of the spectrum of debate are disgruntled over your stories.

Early in my career at the Post-Dispatch, I wrote about a series of field experiments designed to determine whether pollen from corn genetically engineered to carry an insecticide could kill Monarch butterflies. I interviewed researchers from around the country, talked to the companies who make the corn and read as much literature as I could get my hands on. I even went out into the field with some scientists for a day and visited with farmers who used the crops. Everyone involved agreed that the insecticide engineered into the corn plants is designed to kill Lepidoptera, but no one knew if the corn pollen carried enough of the toxin, shed at the right time or built up enough on milkweed leaves to harm the butterflies. The experiments were designed to find out.

Shortly after the story ran, I got a brochure in the mail from a supporter of biotechnology. The brochure was a publication from Monsanto, one of the makers of the suspect corn, addressing the butterfly problem. A pithy note said, "if you'd bothered to do any research at all, you'd find that this matter has already been settled."

The next day, another copy of Monsanto's brochure arrived. This time, the note was from an activist opposed to biotech crops. His note screamed (written in all caps) "Monsanto admits its corn poisons butterflies! If you'd done your homework, you'd know that!"

I took that as a very good sign that I was fairly neutral on the topic and had achieved a fairly balanced story.

I've been accused over the years of being in the pocket of pharmaceutical companies, of being a liberal who hates business and wants to destroy capitalism, of being heartless, ignorant, stupid, a dupe, a conspiracy theorist, a threat to animal research, a supporter of animal research, and many other things. I wrote about Down's syndrome and one woman said that I was obviously incapable of loving a child and she hoped I'd be barren. The teen mental health series provoked comments from Scientologists and others opposed to psychiatry that I wanted to poison children with psychiatric drugs. Our series never addressed the use of psychiatric drugs in teenagers. I pointed that out to one man, who then shot back that if I believed he was stupid enough not to see my true motive then I must have the "brains of an aborted California fetus."

It can get nasty out there. You have to confidence in yourself and stand behind your reporting.

I don't mean to imply that it's all vitriol, though. Readers often call to tell me how much they enjoyed my story and how much it touched them. It's rewarding to hear someone tell you that they've never seen such an informative story before and they finally understand something. Some readers call for even more information. Some have suggested my boss give me a raise. I like to refer those people to my editor.

Defending yourself and your research in graduate school is also a proving ground for the type of abuse you may face as a journalist.

Don't worry if you haven't mastered all of these skills. No one ever does completely. At least that's what I tell myself on the days when insecurity raises its ugly head. The truth is, I can do this job. I do have what it takes, and I'll bet you do, too.