Most writers spend years waiting for some invisible authority to tap them on the shoulder and say, “Alright then, you’re a professional now.” But here’s the uncomfortable truth: no council of writers is meeting in secret to approve your title. Professionalism arrives the moment you decide to treat your writing like real work.
Every writer will wrestle with this question at least once — usually many times: “What does it take to be a professional writer, and when can I call myself one?”
It is a good question and here’s the blunt answer: You become a professional writer the moment your writing earns money — and you stay one by running it like a business.
That’s the simple definition. But if you stopped reading here, you’d miss the point entirely. Because in my experience, what people are really asking is:
- “Am I allowed to claim this?”
- “Am I legitimate?”
- “When do I stop feeling like an imposter?”
So let’s delve into this question properly — without the inspirational fluff and without the gatekeeping.
Money matters — but not the way you think
If someone pays you for your writing — even $20 — congratulations: You’re not an aspiring writer anymore. You’re a professional offering a paid service.
But earning money isn’t the end of the story. It’s the entry ticket.
Professionalism isn’t about income size. It’s about behaviour.
Professionals behave differently:Here’s what separates professionals from hobbyists — and none of this requires (or magically manifests) a six-figure income:
✔ Professionals meet deadlines.Even self-imposed ones. Even “I only have two hours between kids and chaos” ones.
✔ They communicate clearly.Emails. Expectations. Boundaries. Word counts. Rates.
✔ They learn the business side.Not all at once, but gradually: quoting, contracts, scope, invoicing.
✔ They take editing seriously.Not personally. Seriously.
✔ They deliver.That’s the whole job: deliver the words you promised, when you promised them.
That’s professionalism. You don’t need an agent, a fancy website, or 10k followers.
You need consistency.
You don’t need permission to use the title:There is no exam. No governing body. No secret council of writers deciding who’s allowed in.
If you write, deliver and get paid (even sporadically)…then you’re a professional writer.
The title is descriptive, not honorary. It’s about the work, not the prestige.
But what about people who haven’t made money yet?
Fair question. Lots of writers do professional-grade work long before a cent comes in.
Here’s the rule: If you are actively pitching, publishing, freelancing, or pursuing writing as a business — you’re a writer. Full stop.
‘Professional’ follows naturally as soon as income arrives. And it will, if you keep showing up. But don’t wait for a cheque to take yourself seriously.
What it really takes: skills nobody teaches
Here are the actual competencies that turn writers into professionals — the stuff that rarely appears in writing courses:
• Resilience:Clients will push back. Editors will cut paragraphs you loved. Keep going.
• Adaptability:You might rewrite the same piece three times. That’s the job, not a failure.
• Boundaries:A professional writer says, “That’s outside the agreed scope — happy to quote an additional fee.”
• Self-management:A writer who can’t track their time becomes a writer who can’t track their invoices.
• Detachment:Good writing isn’t precious. Professionals trim, adjust, improve, and move on.
• Humility + confidence in equal measure:Know when you’re right. Know when you’re not. The difference is your paycheck.
The imposter syndrome trap
Most writers feel fraudulent long after they’re technically professionals. Why? Because writing is weird. You can make money and still feel like you’re pretending.
Here’s the antidote:
- Keep your commitments.
- Keep learning.
- Keep writing.
- Keep getting paid.
Imposter syndrome hates evidence so give it plenty. But if you do need a quick clear checklist to reassure you that you can call yourself a professional, here it is:
✔ You write regularly.
✔ You’re improving deliberately.
✔ You treat writing with respect.
✔ You’ve delivered something to someone.
✔ You’ve been paid for writing (even once).
✔ You’re pursuing writing as a craft AND a service.
If those boxes are ticked? Use the title. You’ve earned it.
And if the money part hasn’t happened yet? Call yourself a writer with confidence.
The professional part is in progress. It counts.
Remember, being a professional writer isn’t about fame, big contracts, book tours or someone else’s validation. It’s about showing up, doing the work, delivering the words, and taking yourself seriously enough to keep going. Professionalism is behaviour, not status.
And if you’re reading this thinking, “Could that be me?” It probably already is.