Some writers find online writing attractive enough to go with it full time.

Futian, 29, used to work as a translator when she started posting historical novels on Qidian in 2005.

Soon an editor found her and wanted to sign a contract with her. She accepted the offer proudly, saying, "only good ones get offered contracts".

By the very next year she was making 7,000 yuan a month, a decent amount in Shanghai for a 20-something.

She quit her job, writing at home and doing part-time translations occasionally.

Now she writes about 6,000 characters a day - an average output for online writers. Thanks to the loyal readers she has cultivated over the years, she now makes more than 10,000 yuan a month.

"The best part is you get to make money out of something you love," she says.

She works about eight hours a day, spending the rest doing part-time work and researching for her novels.

"In many companies working overtime does not guarantee more pay, but on the Internet more writing does mean more money," she says.

However, Futian admits that there are writers who lead a very exhausting life, staying up late to write more than 10,000 words a day, but she insists they are in the minority.

"Some do it to meet deadlines," she says. "And some just want to make more money, but in the long term it is quality that matters. If you write too much, you may lose your readers. "

Futian now has 16 books in print. Many online writers have their works published or adapted for TV or film.

He Wei, a senior editor with the Sichuan Literature and Art Publishing House, says one third of the books she edited last year were printed versions of online works, mainly on campus life and urban romance.

Some of these books have become smash hits and trend-setters in the publishing world, such as the tomb-theft stories of Tianxiabachang and the historical essays of Shi Yue.

However, disputes over whether works published online have any literary merit at all continue. Most criticisms are centered on the view that to grab eyeballs in the shortest possible time, online books focus on content more than technique and are rough works.

Ninety nine percent of online literature, says 46-year-old writer Mai Jia, is rubbish. At a seminar in April, he said if he had his way, he would get rid of it.