Professor Samuel Freedman may be soft-spoken, but he inspires awe in his Columbia Journalism School students. Some of those students are hand-picked by Mr. Freedman to participate in his book-writing class, which, although only 16 students earn seats in the class each year, has produced 37 books since 1991.

The topics run the gamut from Gal Beckerman’s forthcoming history of the Cold War efforts to free Soviet Jews to Brian McDonald’s “My Father’s Gun,” which covers 100 years of NYPD history through the eyes of his grandfather, father, and brother.

Mr. Freedman’s approach to teaching could be called strict or old-fashioned, but that wouldn’t capture the essence of it. Students say he learns their names and a bit about them before classes commence, and edits every one of the 30,000 words they collectively produce each week.

A former student, Kerry Sheridan, 33, who took two courses with Mr. Freedman, recalls that during her first class, he told her, “You were in San Francisco, you were covering the Giants baseball team, you probably think you’re something else. But your application was about as cold as the lecture hall has been all week. Your chances of getting in here were very low.”

Ms. Sheridan, whose book “Bagpipe Brothers: The FDNY’s Story of Tragedy, Mourning, and Recovery” (Rivergate) was published in 2004, has only positive memories of her professor. “He transformed me from a real amateur into somebody who was able to tackle the kind of assignment I always dreamed I would be able to do,” she said. Ms. Sheridan said Mr. Freedman helped her confidence because he “breaks you down and builds you up, but he’s not building you up, you’re building yourself up.”

Admission to the book-writing course is highly competitive. Mr. Freedman said that each year about 75 students express interest in the course, which is open to all Columbia graduate students. Admittance is based on a short book proposal. “As soon as you enter the school, you start to hear religious talk about the class,” Mr. Beckerman said. “And you can’t argue with the success.” Former student Joan Quigley, 42, whose book is due out in March, said five of the students in her class landed book deals.

The class is rigidly structured. Mr. Freedman requires six narrative nonfiction writing assignments in the first six weeks of the course, which culminate in a 10,000-word book proposal. Throughout it all, students’ work goes “under the microscope” each week — both Mr. Freedman’s and their fellow students’. “For the first time, I got constructive criticism that was actually both,” Mr. McDonald said.

“I have a large constellation of agents and editors I’m in contact with, and agents and editors contact me a lot to ask me what looks good thanks to the track record students have built up,” Mr. Freedman told The New York Sun.

Mr. Freedman was inspired to inaugurate the book-writing seminar in 1991 by programs such as the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, which provide training for creative writers. Nothing comparable existed for nonfiction writers, so he sought to create a course that filled the vacuum.

Mr. Freedman’s effort involves acquainting students with the publishing business by inviting agents and representatives of publishing companies to speak to the class.

Mr. Beckerman, 30, said that before he took Mr. Freedman’s class he thought an author was “like a magician.” Mr. Freedman “demystifies the whole process of getting a book published,” Mr. Beckerman said.

If there is consensus among Mr. Freedman’s students that he is demanding — “That class is like a boot camp, but in a good way,” one student said — there’s also agreement that Mr. Freedman practices what he preaches, and that his example serves as inspiration.

A former New York Times reporter who is now a regular columnist and the author of six books, Mr. Freedman is also an avid runner. He ran the New York City Marathon in 1985 at faster than an 8-minute-mile pace. In a 2003 Times column, Mr. Freedman chronicled his experiences running in cities from San Francisco to Accra, Ghana, to Montevideo, Uruguay.

“He’d run 10 miles and then go to class,” Mr. McDonald said. “He edits an enormous amount of words for the class each week, plus he does his own column, plus he’s a devoted father and husband. It’s almost unreal how he lives his life.”

Mr. Freedman’s wife, Cynthia, is a professor at Cardozo Law School; his son, Aaron, is 14, and his daughter, Sarah, is 12.

A former bartender at Elaine’s, an Upper East Side writers’ hangout, Mr. McDonald completed both his undergraduate and journalism degrees while working behind the bar. Mr. Freedman said Mr. McDonald frequently invited him to Elaine’s for drinks. “I told him, ‘I’m not going to go have a drink at Elaine’s until you have a book contract and you’re on the other side of the bar,” Mr. Freedman said. “He thought Elaine’s was a bunch of pretenders,” Mr. McDonald said. “It has a literary clientele, although there were a lot of hanger-oners, and he didn’t want me to be in that category.” After taking Mr. Freedman’s class, without which Mr. McDonald said there’s “no chance” he would have written a book, Mr. McDonald said he walked out of Elaine’s and has been a writer ever since.

“We celebrated with drinks at Elaine’s when Brian got his book deal,” Mr. Freedman recalled. Messrs. McDonald and Freedman have another book to celebrate: Mr. McDonald’s forthcoming memoir of his nights behind the bar at Elaine’s.