Weird moment

On Friday night, we met up with some of my husband’s ex-work colleagues before we went to a gig.  There was a lovely girl there called Lyndsey, who I had never met before.  We got chatting and one of the first things that she said to me was “You’re a writer, aren’t you?”  This question threw me somewhat.  I was amazingly flattered that my husband (who apparently talks about me all the time at  work – aw!) describes me to other people as a writer.  I think of myself as a writer, I intend to make writing my career, but at this moment I do not earn any money from writing – when people ask me what I do, I say that I work in publishing.  Publishing is what I do full time and is what pays the bills.  Writing is my identity, but in the ‘real world’ it is still just an ambition.  I felt like a bit of a fraud being described as a writer, when I’m not yet making my living from writing.  It would be like telling people that I was a dancer when I actually worked in Tesco.  Except, not really, because I work in publishing, which is undeniably connected to the profession of novel writing.  My experiences in the industry will undoubtedly help me once I’ve finished this novel and start the process of trying to get it published – I know so much more about agents, publishing houses, and the process of turning a manuscript into a book than I did when I was doing my creative writing degree and was convinced that I would walk straight out of uni into a publishing deal (ha!).  Is the thing that you earn most of your money from really the thing that defines you?  I have no problem with working in publishing – I love it and am quite happy telling people that that is what I do.  Yet, if I really want to ‘be a writer’ , should I start thinking of myself, and describing myself, as such?  Or am I a bit of a fraud?